"I don't need a reason. I just don't like the way he talks to you. I can't do anything myself and I'm counting on hugging your thigh to survive, but that Miguel wants you to take the lead. Isn't that basically pushing my golden thigh into a fire pit? If something happens to you, what am I supposed to do?"
Albert's tone was teasing. Hayes listened halfway through and already realized the man was spouting nonsense. It took him some effort to keep the corner of his mouth from twitching. "Can't you be serious for once?"
Only then did Albert rein in his smile a little. Lowering his voice, he said, "Fine, fine. Honestly, I thought you seemed unwell just now. I was worried you wouldn't be able to out-argue him. Your hand was ice-cold…"
As he spoke, he tapped lightly on the back of Hayes' hand. "I thought you were about to pass out."
He had keenly noticed that toward the latter half of the conversation, Hayes had been somewhat distracted. The man repeatedly furrowed his brows, as if struggling to keep his focus, and even his steps were starting to waver.
Albert felt like he had already guessed the truth.
"Sir, are you… a little…"
—restless from heat.
He held the last few words in his mouth, chewed them, and ultimately didn't say them aloud.
Hayes, of course, shot him a glare. "Shut up."
His icy bark couldn't hide the panic underneath.
His thin-lidded eyes were naturally sharp in shape, carrying a contradictory charm—both cutting and alluring.
Because he was looking up at Albert, the corners of Hayes' eyes were rounded slightly, like two quiet pools of water—mysterious and unexpectedly tender.
His eyes were faintly red, and his voice carried a tremor, revealing a rare hint of vulnerability.
To an outsider, the scene would have had quite an impact.
After all, a human in heat and an animal in heat… were not the same thing.
Especially when the person in question was Hayes—the one who always seemed cold and strong-willed.
Albert let out a small cough, thinking: If not me, then who?
Besides, getting hugged by a fluffy big cat for a bit wasn't going to kill him. "So… can you change back? I can let you hold me."
"…" Hayes stared at him like he was an idiot, then glanced around the tiny office. "This place is so small. How am I supposed to change?"
Albert went silent. Fair point.
If Hayes shifted into his beast form, this cramped room probably couldn't even fit him.
He was about to suggest moving to another place—
—but Hayes took a step closer. His expression didn't change as he said, "Come here—stop talking."
The tone and attitude left no room for argument.
If Albert hadn't caught the faint, fleeting trace of hesitation and awkwardness on Hayes' face.
Albert understood instantly. His lips parted, and without thinking, he opened his arms.
The next second, a long, lean body fell into his embrace on its own.
Hayes wrapped his arms around Albert's waist, burying his delicate face against the man's chest. He took a restrained, deep breath, then lightly rubbed his head twice—just a tiny, controlled movement.
"…So he really is a walking catnip," Albert thought.
He instinctively slowed his breathing, tightening his hold slightly, his hands resting gently at Hayes' waist without applying pressure.
Hayes spoke in a muffled voice against his chest: "Hold me tighter."
Albert blinked. "What?"
"I said—hold. Me. Tighter."
The young man lifted his head from Albert's chest, enunciating each word, clearly dissatisfied with Albert's reaction.
He narrowed his eyes, studying Albert's face up close, and said with a displeased expression, "Afraid I'll take advantage of you? I only want to test whether your scent still affects me in human form. Don't overthink it."
Hayes' voice was cold—cold like an icicle.
Albert could only tug at the corner of his mouth. "I wouldn't dare."
And besides… if anyone was taking advantage here, it should be him.
Not that he'd mention it.
And certainly not that Hayes wasn't the one overthinking.
Fine—since it was Hayes' request anyway.
Albert pushed all stray thoughts aside and tightened his arms just as Hayes had told him to.
The young commander's waist was slender, his bones light; at first glance, his build even seemed a little fragile.
Only when Albert's hands traced the subtle lines of Hayes' lower back could he feel the truth—under that warm skin lay lean, taut muscle, thin but powerful, a silent promise of explosive strength.
Neither of them spoke for a long time.
Hayes' exposed skin was icy at first; before long, it began to heat like a furnace, warming until a delicate blush spread across his face.
His body swayed, sinking even further into Albert's hold. He turned his head slightly in discomfort, his shorter frame rising and falling rapidly with his harsh breaths, trapped in a torment with no escape.
His hands tightened involuntarily, clamping around Albert's waist so hard it nearly knocked the wind out of him.
Albert felt the pressure, but it was still bearable. After thinking for a moment, he chose not to say anything. His hand resting at Hayes' waist pressed gently, a quiet attempt at comfort.
His scent was intoxicating—Hayes, dazed, buried himself deeper into the man's chest, following that cool, clean fragrance with single-minded focus.
It was as if Hayes were trapped between fire and ice—burning one moment, freezing the next. Sweat gathered at his brow as he fought a losing battle against instincts too primal for a human body to contain.
His legs trembled, his shoulders shook, and short, suppressed whimpers escaped from his nose.
Time blurred; it was impossible to tell how long had passed. In a daze, the cold sweat soaked through Hayes' back.
But finally… his body stopped trembling.
Albert let out a long breath. One hand hovered awkwardly in the air before he carefully patted Hayes' thin, trembling back. "It's over."
Hayes took a few deep breaths with his eyes closed. Before the flush on his face fully faded, he loosened his grip on Albert and stepped half a pace back.
The air between them remained dense, warm, and unmistakably intimate.
Albert lowered his gaze. "Do you want to sit down for a bit?"
Hayes shook his head. He parted his lips, trying to speak.
"I…"
He barely managed one word before a loud commotion erupted outside the door.
"Aaah—!"
A sharp, terrified female scream echoed down the hallway, followed by frantic footsteps racing toward them and choked, incoherent sobbing.
"Help… someone please help me!"
The two men exchanged a glance, their expressions darkening instantly.
Hayes reacted first. Without even steadying himself, he yanked the office door open and dashed out.
Albert didn't think—he rushed out right on Hayes' heels.
They spotted the girl almost immediately.
She looked to be in her twenties, bundled in a bulky padded coat. Around her waist, the fabric had been torn open by something's bite, exposing white stuffing inside… along with fresh, steadily flowing blood.
Because of the injury, her running was clumsy and uneven.
Panicked and disoriented, she had stumbled all the way into this supposedly empty school building. She was already losing hope, sinking into despair—until two men suddenly appeared out of nowhere in the hallway.
Her eyes widened. Like she'd found salvation, she lurched toward them in a mad sprint.
"Help me—please! Please…!"
A scraping, chittering sound echoed from the corner of the hallway.
The moment the girl finished speaking, a tall, hulking red figure emerged behind her.
It was a mutated arthropod.
Its head was flat and oval-shaped, with long, curved, fuzzy antennae stretching far forward like signal sensors. Its body was thin and towering—so tall it nearly matched Albert's height.
Its mouthparts resembled a pair of pincers. The thick mandibles looked almost metallic at first glance, opening and closing with nimble precision like scythes poised to claim a life.
Albert's expression tightened.
"…Bloodscythe Ant."