Silas Shen had underestimated the gravity of his mistake.
Ever since that fateful night in the laboratory—that "accidental" moment of soothing where he had allowed a feral Alpha to find sanctuary in his scent—it felt as though Hunter Huo had installed a high-precision GPS directly into his soul. No matter where he went, whether it was the bustling university cafeteria, the hallowed silence of the library, or now, at the threshold of his supposedly impenetrable sanctuary—his off-campus apartment—the boy was always there.
Rumble—!
Muffled thunder rolled through the oppressive charcoal clouds like a warning. Moments later, the heavens fractured, and a torrential downpour began to lash against the glass walls of the apartment complex. As Silas stepped out of the elevator, the soft chime of the doors was the only sound in the hallway—until his gaze fell upon his doorstep.
There, curled against the cold, dark wood of his door, was a drenched, huddled figure.
Hunter hadn't bothered with a jacket. His black T-shirt was soaked through, clinging like a second skin to his broad back and outlining the powerful, explosive ridges of his Alpha shoulder blades. He sat on the frigid marble floor with his knees pulled tightly to his chest, looking unnervingly small despite his massive frame. A sodden basketball duffel bag lay discarded by his feet, leaking a small puddle onto the pristine floor.
At the sound of Silas's footsteps, Hunter lifted his head. His golden hair was a tangled, dripping mess, and his eyes—peering through the wet fringe—were startlingly bright. Yet, beneath that brightness lay a devastating, shattered sense of abandonment, like a creature that had been left out in the cold for too long.
"What exactly are you doing here?" Silas stopped dead in his tracks, three meters of professional distance maintained like a reinforced wall. Rainwater dripped steadily from the tip of his black umbrella, tapping against the floor like a ticking clock. His voice was devoid of even a trace of warmth, as cold as the storm outside.
"Professor... hiss..." Hunter winced, deliberately turning his face away just enough to expose a jagged, angry purple bruise blooming at the corner of his mouth. He sniffled, his voice thick and muffled. "My Rut... it hasn't passed yet. The Alphas in the dorm were being loud and aggressive... things got out of hand. We got into a fight."
He let out a shaky breath, his eyes downcast. "I had nowhere else to go. My head was so loud, but all I could think about was the scent of your silver fir... I didn't even realize I'd walked all the way here until I reached your door."
Silas adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze as sharp and clinical as a scalpel. "The university hospital maintains a twenty-four-hour duty rotation. If you have truly forgotten the way, I would be more than happy to call the police to escort you there personally. Furthermore, explain to me how you bypassed the security for this floor."
"I told the guard downstairs that I was yours... I mean, that I was your student, here to deliver a time-sensitive document." Hunter stood up, his movements swaying and precarious. He shifted a step forward, his tall shadow stretching across the floor until it stepped directly into Silas's own space.
Suddenly, a heavy, damp scent of orange, mingled with the metallic tang of rainwater, crashed into Silas's senses. It was no longer the arrogant, predatory heat from the lab; instead, it was a wilted, pathetic sweetness—a scent that was practically whimpering for mercy.
"Professor Shen, I'm so cold. I think... I think I have a fever. If you don't believe me, just feel it."
Before Silas could react, Hunter's large, calloused hand shot out, seizing Silas's wrist and pressing his palm firmly against his own forehead.
Silas's fingers were long and habitually icy, but the moment they made contact with Hunter's skin, he felt a jolt of unnatural, scorching heat. It was like touching a furnace. He instinctively tried to recoil, but Hunter's grip tightened with a sudden, desperate strength. The "puppy" took advantage of the momentum, leaning down until his burning forehead was buried deep into the hollow of Silas's cold, snow-scented neck. He took a greedy, shuddering breath of the professor's scent.
"Silas... please. Just for tonight," Hunter whispered, his hot breath ghosting over Silas's skin. "The sofa is fine. The floor is fine. I promise I won't cause trouble. I promise... I won't bite you."
Silas froze, his body turning into a pillar of ice. Beneath his ear, he could hear the violent, erratic thudding of Hunter's heart—a surging, chaotic rhythm that spoke of a young Alpha's primal vitality. As a biologist, Silas knew exactly what this was: the dangerous, instinctive precursor to "nesting" behavior. Every logical cell in his brain screamed at him to shove this volatile intruder back into the rain.
But then, he looked down. He saw the slow trickle of blood from the bruise on Hunter's lip, and he saw those wide, "puppy" eyes that were filled with a terrifying, silent plea: Only you can save me.
The permafrost that had encased Silas Shen's heart for years gave a sudden, inexplicable tremor.
"...The living room only," Silas finally spoke, his voice tight as he pulled his hand away. He reached out and swiped the fingerprint lock with a sharp, clinical motion.
"Get inside. Strip off those wet clothes immediately. If you so much as drop a single bead of water on my carpet, you're dead."
The moment the heavy door clicked shut, sealing them into the quiet, fir-scented sanctuary, the shattered look in Hunter's eyes evaporated. In its place, a dark, triumphant spark of cunning flickered for a fleeting second. He stepped into the pristine apartment—a forbidden territory he had finally breached—like a young wolf that had successfully infiltrated the heart of the fold.
"Professor, you really are as kind as they say."
He watched Silas's rigid back as the man turned away to fetch a towel. Hunter's tongue flicked out, tasting the copper tang of the bitter wound on his lip. The obsession in his gaze deepened, swirling like a dark storm, ready to drown the very man who had just let him in.