The neon haze of Neo-Chang'an cast fragile reflections on rain-slicked streets, swirling colors bleeding into puddles as distant advertisements flickered to life. High above, steel towers cut into the night, their glass facades opaque with smog and secrets. In this city governed by pheromone law and whispered power, the night belonged to the hunters—and the hunted.
Zhou Yu staggered through the refuse-strewn alley, every step heavy like the weight of a crumbling empire pressing down on him. His breath caught in his throat, suppressed pheromones slipping past the synthetic inhibitor he'd clung to so desperately. The video—manipulated, cruel, endless—played on every screen in every bar and holo-cafe, a public unmasking of his most vulnerable moment. The Omega heat he'd fought so hard to conceal was now a spectacle.
Drowning in the venomous cascade of hate from fans and media, his agency had dropped him like a stone sinking fast and silent. The bright lights and curated smiles gave way to this: cold indifference and the echo of betrayal.
He doubled over, waves of shame and panic clashing within him, raw and merciless. The cheap motel room smelled of mildew and lost hope, a far cry from the orb of glittering fame he once occupied. He slumped on the threadbare bed, hands trembling, head bowed. He refused, absolute and stubborn, to be pitied — to be owned again by a world that saw him as nothing more than an object to discard.
A soft hum buzzed from the pathetic holo-screen, news looping images of the LunarCorp's newest CEO. His name sent a pang through Zhou Yu's chest: Li Xuan. The Alpha he'd known years ago, in a different life, colder and sharper than winter ice. The memory surged — Li Xuan's cruel rejection after Zhou Yu's humiliating mistake, a moment that had set their fates on parallel yet opposing trajectories.
A new message trailed on the screen: "If you want to survive, come to the Imperial Tower. Suite 99." The handwriting was precise, digital — Li Xuan's signature unmistakable. With nowhere left to fall, and no pride enough to refuse, Zhou Yu rose. The rain drummed a dark percussion as he set off toward the tower that ruled the city skyline like an iron crown.
The elevator hummed upward, sterile and stifling. The doors slid open to reveal Suite 99—a space defined by shadow and silence, minimalist to cold perfection. Rain streaked the glass wall, blurring the sparkling cityscape into watercolor chaos. Behind the glass sat Li Xuan, a predator masked by composure, scent deliberately muted beneath layers of suppression. His presence sliced through the room with precision, claiming dominion over the space and Zhou Yu's dwindling resolve.
The air thickened as Li Xuan's voice broke the silence — measured, authoritative, dripping with unspoken control. "You've lost everything, Zhou Yu. But not to your enemies—your enemies are pawns. Someone else orchestrated your fall."
Zhou Yu's defenses tightened; the bitterness in his throat sharpened into defiance. "Why should I believe you?"
Li Xuan's cold gaze flicked with a brief, inscrutable flicker. "Because I hold the power to erase it all." His hand slid forward, revealing a sleek tablet displaying a digital contract glowing faintly with a silver outline — the Lunar Bond Agreement.
"For one year, publicly bonded as my mate. Privately, abiding by every clause. Including… obedience during your inevitable heat cycles." The words hung, venomous and precise.
Rage flared hot and bright, but beneath it lurked desperation. No other offer existed — not after the scandal that painted Zhou Yu as damaged goods. His voice cracked, a mixture of scorn and need. "You think I'm a possession to control. I'm no one's pawn."
Li Xuan leaned forward, eyes locking onto Zhou Yu's with merciless intensity. "This isn't charity. It's survival. And make no mistake—this contract will bind you tighter than chains."
Yet beneath his calculated cruelty, something flickered—an involuntary reaction as Zhou Yu's Silver Lotus pheromones, rare and pure, rose like a clarion call. Li Xuan's stoic mask trembled, heartbeat syncing with his for a flicker of devastating clarity. A forbidden omen neither dared acknowledge.
Fingers trembling, Zhou Yu touched the tablet, signing the document scrawled in glowing script. The moment his signature sealed fate, Li Xuan's hand brushed against his wrist in a possessive, sharp contact. A burning trail traced along Zhou Yu's skin, a faint crescent-shaped mark glowing gold—Moon Mark, the symbol of True Mates. The room tilted; both men staggered under the rush of psychic fire igniting between them.
As Zhou Yu rose, rain outside deepened into storm fury. Eyes had never left him — Li Xuan's voice dropped into a murmur thick with promise and warning: "You wanted a way to survive, Zhou Yu. Now you'll live by my scent."
Alone in the dark, fingertips brushed the glowing Moon Mark beneath his sleeve. The city's cold promise faded into a new hell.
Unseen, a red light blinked behind the suite's dim curtain—a hidden camera, recording everything.