Albert had braced himself for Hayes' reaction. Leaning back with an effortless charm that could disarm anyone, he offered a wry, playful smile—the kind that hinted at secrets shared in the dark. "I was… very accommodating last night," he murmured, his voice dripping with suggestive warmth. "No need for lethal measures first thing in the morning, Commander."
Hayes' gaze stayed locked on him, sharp and unwavering, as if he were trying to read Albert's every thought behind those teasing words.
After a tense moment, Hayes seemed to recall the events of the previous night. A faint flush colored his ears—whether from annoyance or something else, Albert couldn't tell. "Whatever," he muttered, swinging his legs off the bed.
The blanket slipped, revealing Albert's smooth, pale skin and the lean lines of his torso.
"Turn around," Hayes said, low and dangerous. "If I catch you looking, you'll lose those pretty eyes of yours."
With swift, precise movements, Hayes rose and dressed in the uniform Albert had laid out—every action radiating controlled authority. He didn't look back once, confident Albert wouldn't dare.
And Albert didn't. He didn't need to. He'd already memorized Hayes' shape in the dim light from last night.
Heat still crept up Albert's neck, and he scolded himself for the reaction. Turning sharply away, he stole one last fleeting glance, catching the elegant curve of Hayes' lower back—a glimpse that lingered in his mind, igniting something stubbornly alive.
Once dressed, Hayes led Albert from the tent and nudged him toward the mess area. "Go eat."
Then Hayes became all business, barking orders to his team as they broke camp with military precision.
After the Collapse, Hayes' assigned city had fallen to swarms of mutated creatures. He and his unit had been moving north when his cycle hit—an inconvenient, vulnerable moment—forcing them to take shelter in Creek City. Albert's arrival had shifted things. Accelerated them.
They had been running low on supplies for days. A week in Creek City had nearly emptied their reserves. Hayes planned a quick run to the city center for essentials, then a swift departure.
"Sir," his adjutant murmured, "the drifters from last night… they're still detained."
Hayes' expression tightened. He'd already reviewed the interrogation notes—just another desperate group scraping by in the ruins. Petty theft, a clumsy attempt at arson. Nothing new.
Two months into the end of the world, laws were relics. People did whatever they needed to survive.
"Let them go," Hayes said.
"But, Commander—they set fire to the west tent line—"
Hayes cut him off with a sharp, final look. "I said let them go."
If the soldiers on night watch hadn't noticed the anomaly in time and snuffed out the flames before they spread, they would have lost at least thirty percent of their supplies.
Hayes' tone sharpened. "Do as I said."
The adjutant hesitated for a brief moment, then nodded and walked away.
It took about an hour to pack all the equipment.
Before departure, Hayes' adjutant shifted into a massive Arctic wolf. Though impressively large, it was still slightly smaller than Hayes' own beast form. The wolf bent one foreleg, offering a step for Hayes to climb onto its back.
Albert watched, mesmerized, as Hayes swung up effortlessly. His long legs, clad in dark uniform pants, gripped the wolf's fur, and he settled atop the creature with an air of commanding authority.
Albert couldn't help but stare in surprise. Being an officer really was different—able to use other shifted beings as mounts.
Hayes' cold gaze met his. "What are you standing there for? Get up. Or do you plan to stay here by yourself?"
Albert froze. He had a place too?
Truthfully, he felt uncertain about his future. Since waking, he had wrestled with several thoughts: how would he, an ordinary person without any special abilities, survive if he left Hayes? Or was Hayes bringing him along because he was drawn to his scent—should he even agree?
Admittedly, finding a powerful protector in the apocalypse was a dream scenario for many. He wouldn't have to struggle for food, shelter, or privileges that others couldn't access.
Yet relying on someone else's protection in this way felt strange, almost humiliating. After all, the only reason he enjoyed these privileges was because Hayes needed his scent.
Albert's mind churned with conflicting emotions.
But he couldn't just stand here, frozen. Once Hayes and the others left, this place would be nothing but empty land.
"…No," Albert finally said, pushing his thoughts aside.
He had no choice but to steel himself and clumsily mimic Hayes' movements, climbing onto the Arctic wolf's back to sit behind him.
…It was unnervingly high.
In his previous life, Albert's heart condition had kept him from any strenuous activity—not even horseback riding. Riding a wolf was entirely unprecedented.
The adjutant had taken only a few steps forward when Albert, inexperienced and unsteady, lurched forward. His tall frame collided squarely with Hayes' straight, lean back.
Albert: "!"
Certain he was about to be thrown off, Albert had no time to overthink.
In a panic, he instinctively wrapped his arms around the only warm object within reach—his long arms encircling Hayes' narrow waist, locking firmly across his lower abdomen.
From an outsider's perspective, it looked like an intimate embrace.
Sharp breaths hissed through the air around them.
"You—" Hayes' expression shifted subtly.
Even knowing Albert's action was entirely accidental, he couldn't help thinking—this guy was way too clumsy.
A flicker of embarrassed annoyance crossed his finely sculpted features. "Hold on properly," he said through slightly gritted teeth.
If it weren't for the fact that Albert still had some use, Hayes would have liked nothing more than to kick him right off the wolf.
"Sorry, Commander," Albert muttered, a rare flush of awkwardness painting his handsome face. "But… where am I supposed to hold?"
He glanced around and realized that aside from Hayes' waist, there really wasn't anywhere else to steady himself.
"Grab my fur," the adjutant beneath them finally spoke up, unable to watch any longer. "My hide is thick—it won't hurt."
Albert: "…Alright then."