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Gao Tu and Shen Wenlang had known each other since high school. 

Well, known was generous. 

Gao Tu knew Shen Wenlang in the way prey knows a predator is nearby: ears twitching, nose quivering, heart pounding fast enough to power a blender. 

Shen Wenlang, on the other hand, knew Gao Tu in the way a wolf knows the faint rustle of grass… that is to say, vaguely.

Shen Wenlang had been the kind of alpha who could stop traffic with a look.

Tall, pale, impossibly self-assured, he walked the halls like the world owed him space. Wolf ears pricked forward, tail swinging in a slow rhythm that screamed confidence, he was all sharp angles and sharper gazes. Even the fluorescent lights seemed to tilt in his favor.

Omegas whispered. Betas gawked. Alphas either bristled or fawned. Shen Wenlang never broke stride.

And Gao Tu was the rabbit hybrid who thought blending into walls counted as a personality trait.

Slender, sleek, with honey kissed skin and just enough muscle to carry heavy stacks of textbooks, he was quietly pretty in a way that made people glance twice. His soft features and sun-kissed glow made him look almost sensual, though Gao Tu himself would rather eat an entire field of bitter greens than admit it.

He kept his head down, smothered his scent, and prayed to every higher power that Shen Wenlang never noticed how his long ears gave him away.

But oh, Gao Tu noticed him.

Every time the wolf stalked down the hallway, Gao Tu’s gaze betrayed him. The way Shen Wenlang’s canines flashed when he smirked. The lazy confidence of his stride. The gravitational pull of a predator who didn’t just belong at the top of the food chain… he was the top of the food chain.

Of course, Shen Wenlang never noticed. Why would he? To him, Gao Tu was just a twitchy rabbit who darted away whenever their eyes met.

Years passed, as they always do, dragging their claws through innocence and leaving behind sharpened edges.

The wolf became what wolves were meant to be: ruthless, ambitious, dangerous. 

Shen Wenlang ascended from heir to CEO with teeth bared, earning a reputation so sharp that even his allies sometimes flinched. He was cold and impossibly controlled, the sort of man whose stare could silence an entire room.

The rabbit became what rabbits rarely were: steady, resilient, dependable. 

Gao Tu buried his omega nature under suppressants and hard work, settling into the administrative department of a rival company. With his sister’s illness and his father’s debts chewing away at him, he became a creature carved from quiet sacrifice. Still soft, still pretty, but forged with the kind of quiet strength even predators respected.

And then fate decided to toss him directly into the wolf’s den.

The day Gao Tu walked into the boardroom and saw him again, his heart forgot its job. Shen Wenlang sat at the head of the opposing table, his sharp gaze sweeping the room like a scythe.

Time had only honed him.

Oh God. He’s gotten hotter. That should be a crime. 

Gao Tu’s ears twitched violently before he slammed them down with sheer force of will. His grip on his pen tightened as if the pen could save him from being eaten alive.

Shen Wenlang’s gaze slid lazily across the faces in the room until it snagged on one. He went still. His wolf ears flicked once. His nostrils flared faintly.

“…You,” he said, voice low, like he was pulling a memory from dusty corners.

Gao Tu straightened his tie and blurted, “Me?”

Shen Wenlang remembered.

Not the crush, he’d been oblivious to that, but the rabbit who used to freeze whenever he drew near, then bolt like prey. Except now, Gao Tu wasn’t running. He was soft, yes, but steady. A rabbit who held his ground against the wolf’s stare.

Something primal stirred. 

What was supposed to be weeks of careful negotiation morphed into something far stranger: Shen Wenlang flirting.

At first, it was subtle. The wolf’s gaze lingered too long. His lips curled whenever Gao Tu’s pen tapped nervously.

“Do rabbits always fidget when they’re nervous, or is it just you?” Shen Wenlang asked one afternoon

Gao Tu’s ears shot up. “I’m not nervous.”

“Your scent says otherwise.”

“…Maybe I just don’t like wolves staring at me.”

“Strange,” Shen Wenlang murmured, canines flashing, “because you never seem to look away.”

Gao Tu dropped his pen. He did not pick it up again.

Then came the coffee.

One morning, a cup appeared on Gao Tu’s desk. His favorite. No explanation. No note.

“…This isn’t a bribe, is it?” he asked suspiciously.

Shen Wenlang’s wolf ears twitched in amusement. “Of course not. It’s a test.”

“A test?”

“Yes. To see if rabbits prefer their coffee sweet or bitter.”

Gao Tu sipped. “Sweet.”

“Noted.”

The next morning, another cup appeared… sweeter. And the next was sweeter still. Until Gao Tu finally squinted, ears flicking.

“…Are you trying to give me a sugar overdose?”

“Just narrowing down your preferences,” Shen Wenlang replied smoothly. “Scientific method.”

The tension only grew sharper.

One day, they were trapped in an elevator. Gao Tu pressed himself into the corner, ears trembling. Shen Wenlang leaned casually against the wall, tail swaying.

“You’re twitching,” he observed.

“I’m not twitching.”

“You are. Relax. I’m not going to eat you.”

“That’s… not as comforting as you think it is.”

Shen Wenlang chuckled, low and warm. The sound rumbled straight through Gao Tu’s bones, leaving him scowling at the floor. The wolf, meanwhile, found himself watching the rabbit more intently than he should, possessive instincts humming just under his skin.

The possessiveness only deepened at a company dinner, when a careless beta brushed too close and tugged Gao Tu’s fluffy rabbit tail. Gao Tu yelped, ears snapping up.

Before Gao Tu could even react, Shen Wenlang was there, eyes glowing faintly.

“Touch what’s not yours again,” he growled, voice like sharpened steel, “and you’ll lose the hand.”

The beta paled and bolted. Gao Tu gawked, mortified. “You didn’t have to threaten murder!”

“Correction,” Shen Wenlang said calmly, gaze still fixed on Gao Tu’s twitching tail, “I wanted to.”

Gao Tu’s ears drooped. “…You’re crazy.”

“And you,” Shen Wenlang replied smoothly, “are far too tempting.”

The line between business and something else blurred. Meetings ended, but Shen Wenlang lingered, asking questions that had nothing to do with contracts. Courting began, in his wolfish, sideways way.

Late one night, Shen Wenlang found Gao Tu asleep at his desk, cheek pressed against paperwork, ears twitching even in dreams. The wolf leaned down, brushing his fingers lightly against one ear. Gao Tu jolted awake, wide-eyed.

“Relax,” Shen Wenlang murmured, softer than Gao Tu had ever heard him. “I was just checking if rabbits dream.”

“And?” Gao Tu demanded, rubbing his eyes adorably.

Shen Wenlang smiled faintly. “Apparently, they do.”

Shen Wenlang was nothing if not thorough.

Once he rediscovered Gao Tu, he discovered everything else too: the debts, the sick sister, the weight of responsibility. 

Without hesitation, he did what wolves do best: handled it. Debts paid. Doctors arranged. All quietly, ruthlessly, efficiently.

No pity. Wolves didn’t pity rabbits.

But this particular rabbit? This one he could not stop protecting.

And Gao Tu, despite his better judgment, kept circling closer. Against every twitch of prey instinct, against every logical warning, he found himself drawn to the wolf. His heart pounded with fear, but it leaned forward with something dangerously close to longing.

Teasing became courting.

Courting became scenting.

Soon, Gao Tu carried the sharp tang of Shen Wenlang’s iris scent, while the wolf bore a faint trace of sage from the omega. 

To the outside world, they were claimed.

But the most important step remained undone.

No knot. No soul mark. No bond.

Despite living together for six months already.

Gao Tu had even quit his job for him. No one had asked him to… least of all Shen Wenlang, who had assured him more than once that he didn’t care if Gao Tu kept working. But Gao Tu wanted to. He wanted to be the omega who cooked, who kept the home, who stood proudly at Shen Wenlang’s side. 

And still, one step was missing.

Gao Tu tried to bring it up delicately.

“Wenlang, don’t you think we should-”

“Buy sturdier locks for the house? Yes, I was thinking the same,” Shen Wenlang cut in smoothly, sipping tea with infuriating calm.

Cue Gao Tu’s long ears drooping lower than a wilting daisy. He pretended it didn’t sting, but it always did.

Still, Gao Tu was not a quitter. If the wolf wouldn’t talk, then the rabbit would coax it out of him. With persistence. And maybe a dash of seduction.

Tiny problem: Gao Tu was an inexperienced virgin bunny. He had zero clue how to seduce anyone, let alone a wolf whose self-control was legendary. But desperate times called for desperate research on the internet.

At 3 a.m., he was buried in a hybrid forum titled “How to Get Your Alpha to Knot You Without Breaking a Bone.”

User: FluffyTail88:

Bought lingerie. My lion ripped it off in five seconds. Best five seconds of my life.

User: BoldKitty23:

Dropped my towel. Slipped. Hit my head. He still knotted me though.

User: Bark4444U:

Climbed in his lap during a meeting. Now we’re married.

Gao Tu’s cheeks burned as he scribbled notes like a diligent student. “Okay. No concussions. No public lap climbing. Start small.”

By dawn, he had a list. A questionable, highly embarrassing list. But a plan was a plan.

He stood before the mirror, honey skin glowing in the morning light, rabbit ears trembling with determination. His reflection looked soft, pretty, and more than a little nervous. But his eyes held stubborn resolve.

“Alright, wolf,” he whispered to himself. “You think you’re the hunter? Not this time. Operation Seduce the Alpha begins… now.”

The next evening, towel wrapped snugly around his waist, tail flicking nervously, ears twitching, he stepped into the bedroom. Steam from the shower clung faintly to his skin, highlighting the subtle curve of his shoulders, the soft slope of his abdomen, and the lean line of his torso.

He gave the towel a careful flick… planned to be smooth, controlled, and confident.

Instead, it slipped completely to the floor, scattering awkwardly across his feet. Gao Tu stumbled, arms flailing, knees buckling slightly, ending in a graceless crouch. Tail twitched anxiously; ears pinned. Every inch of his body was on display, collarbones sharp, chest soft yet toned, muscles flexing faintly with the effort to balance himself.

Shen Wenlang looked up from his laptop, wolf ears flicking forward. “…Tu? Did you fall?”

“I- I’m fine! Totally fine!” Gao Tu scrambled upright, tugging the towel back around his waist. I am being seductive! he told himself, though every line of his body seemed to scream otherwise.

Shen Wenlang tilted his head, frowning, utterly oblivious but clearly concerned. “You’re shivering. Your skin’s wet. Put something on before you catch a cold.”

Ears drooping, tail flicking nervously, Gao Tu muttered, “Yes, yes, of course…” 

Phase One: Disastrous.

Gao Tu cooked all the time.

Stews, stir-fries, rice with delicate sides. It was part of the quiet routine of their life together. So Shen Wenlang was now used to good meals waiting on the table.

But tonight wasn’t just cooking. Tonight was strategy.

The rabbit stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up, apron snug at his waist, ears pitched forward with serious determination.

He lined up the ingredients like soldiers awaiting inspection: glossy peppers, shaved ginseng, a pouch of dried herbs he’d bought under the counter.

The forum had been clear: “Guaranteed to spark your alpha’s instincts. Works every time.”

Gao Tu’s ears flushed hot just remembering the thread. Dozens of omegas swearing by it. Pictures of bowls, smiling faces, a dozen “good luck!” comments. He’d even saved the recipe twice in case it got deleted.

He chopped the peppers with careful precision, whispering to himself as he worked. “Not too much heat. He’ll just laugh if it’s fire soup. Balance.” His tail flicked as he scraped them into the pot. The broth hissed, sharp spice curling upward.

Then came the ginseng, shaved thin, almost translucent in his hands. He slid the slices in reverently, watching them float before sinking. “Strength,” he muttered. “Energy. Nothing suspicious here.”

Finally, the pouch of herbs. He pinched out a measured portion, not too much, just enough. The leaves hit the broth, darkened, curled, and dissolved with a faint, spicy sweet aroma. 

Gao Tu stirred quickly, ears twitching like guilty flags.

“This is ridiculous,” he whispered, cheeks burning. “Absolutely ridiculous. Who even listens to strangers on a forum?”

Still, when he tasted it, the stew had a bite. Bold, warm, with a lingering pulse of heat that even made his own chest flutter. 

Perfect.

By the time he carried the tray into their lounge room, his nerves were shot. His hands were steady, but his ears betrayed him, twitching at every creak of the floorboards, every flick of Shen Wenlang’s gaze.

“I made dinner,” Gao Tu said, striving for casualness.

The wolf looked up from his drink, eyes gleaming with lazy interest. “You always make dinner, baby. Even though I say there is no need to.” Shen Wenlang said, tilting his head. His gaze lingered a fraction longer than usual on Gao Tu’s flushed cheeks, but his grin was easy. “What’s different tonight?”

“Nothing,” Gao Tu said too quickly. “Just… try it.”

Shen Wenlang leaned forward, spoon in hand. He took a bite, chewing slowly. The spice bloomed immediately, sliding down his throat in a wave of heat that spread warmly through his chest. His lashes lowered just slightly… Then he smiled, broad and casual.

“…Good,” he said. “Really good.”

Gao Tu leaned forward, ears twitching. “Good good? Not just polite good?”

“Good good,” Shen Wenlang confirmed smoothly. He set his spoon down, reaching for his glass of liquor instead. “You never miss.”

Gao Tu blinked, tail curling tight. “…You’re not finishing it?”

Shen Wenlang sipped, the corner of his mouth curving faintly. “I had enough.” His tone was light, perfectly casual, as though there was no hidden meaning at all.

Heat crawled up Gao Tu’s neck. He stared at the barely touched bowl, his ears flattening. “So it didn’t work,” he muttered under his breath.

“What’s that?” Shen Wenlang asked, voice mild.

“Nothing,” Gao Tu snapped quickly, shoving the tray aside. His tail flicked furiously. “Eat more if you want.”

The wolf chuckled, low and easy, swirling the liquor in his glass. “Later,” he said.

And that was it. No raised brows, no teasing remark, no hint he’d noticed the extra care or the suspicious heat in the broth. 

Gao Tu sank back into his seat, mortified. Of course it didn't work. He’d been stupid to believe a bunch of gossiping omegas on a forum. Shen Wenlang wasn’t even fazed. He was probably laughing on the inside, too polite to say anything.

The stew cooled on the table, its scent lingering like a secret plan gone embarrassingly wrong.

Phase Two: Over before it even began.

The forums had one commandment in all caps:

“RELEASE YOUR SCENT SO YOUR ALPHA HAS TO NOTICE.”

Gao Tu had scoffed at it for days. It sounded cheap, desperate. Something only clueless omegas with no self-respect would try.

And yet… here Gao Tu was, lowering the suppressants just enough to let his sage sweet scent bloom into the living room, warm and rich, threaded with the faint herbal sharpness that made him unmistakably him. 

Every breath carried a whisper of omega: subtle, undeniable, inescapable.

Shen Wenlang froze mid typing. His wolf ears pricked sharply, nostrils flaring. 

He could smell the rabbit from across the room, each note of sage and warmth tugging at instincts he had worked so hard to ignore. The laptop clicked shut almost instinctively, the sound loud in the quiet, and his eyes darkened.

“Gao Tu.” His voice was low, rough and tense.

“Yes?” Gao Tu said, trying for innocence, though his tail betrayed him, flicking lightly as his ears flattened and twitched.

“What are you doing?” Shen Wenlang asked, brows drawn together, jaw tight.

“…Existing,” Gao Tu replied softly, letting the tip of his tail curl around his ankle, hoping his subtle movements were seductive enough to convey the plan.

Shen Wenlang’s eyes narrowed, dark and unreadable. He rose smoothly, fluid and predatory, then unexpectedly turned toward the kitchen. 

Gao Tu’s ears twitched.

Is he… thirsty?

The wolf moved like a man suddenly remembering he needed water, stretching his shoulders and taking long, deliberate steps. Gao Tu’s tail flicked nervously; his heart thudded. 

Oh no. Did I do something wrong? Did my scent overwhelm him?

From the living room, he could see Shen Wenlang’s profile against the soft kitchen light, chest rising and falling, a glass in hand or at least, what Gao Tu assumed was a glass. 

He must need water. Poor wolf, all tense from… me.

Gao Tu’s breaths quickened. Ears tipped forward, tail curling tighter around his ankle. He leaned slightly toward the wolf’s path, hoping his subtle movements would somehow communicate reassurance or seduction, maybe both.

Shen Wenlang returned with the same calm, measured stride, eyes fixed on him with intensity that made Gao Tu’s pulse spike. 

Predatory. Taut. Fluid. Every muscle ready, every nerve coiled. Gao Tu’s chest constricted. Finally, he thought. Finally, it’s working.

Shen Wenlang’s hand lifted slowly, deliberate but effortless. Thumb hovered near Gao Tu’s collarbone, then glided over the soft curve of his heart shaped lips, warm and gentle enough to make his pulse stutter, teasingly insistent. Gao Tu froze, breaths hitching, ears twitching nervously. 

“Open,” Shen Wenlang said, voice low, rough, threaded with just the faintest edge of command.

Gao Tu’s knees wobbled. Lips parted. Heart thundering. This is it, he thought. The wolf was leaning closer, eyes locked on him, every instinct tangled with desire. The heat of him pressed close, warm and dangerous.

And then, with a motion so casual it was almost cruel, Shen Wenlang pressed a small, bitter capsule to Gao Tu’s lips.

Gao Tu blinked. Once. Twice.

His mind stuttered, brain refusing to process the betrayal. His lips parted further in shock as the pill was tipped into his mouth. Before he could react, Shen Wenlang’s thumb brushed over his lips, coaxing him to swallow.

A scent blocker.

“There,” the wolf said softly, voice smooth as silk, “That’ll keep you from getting sick.”

Gao Tu sank back into the couch, tail curling tight, ears pressed flat, cheeks flaring hotter than the firelight. 

He had imagined dozens of seductive scenarios. Lips on his, hands along his spine, whispered promises low in his ear. 

None of them had involved being neutralized like an overexcited omega who forgot his suppressants.

He had believed he had finally drawn the wolf’s desire. That his carefully planned, forum approved, sage scented seduction would work. Instead, he had been medicated.

And Shen Wenlang? Calm. Collected. Unfazed by temptation, at least outwardly. Eyes unreadable, chest rising unevenly, the faint curl at the corner of his mouth hinting at a private amusement that Gao Tu was absolutely not invited to share.

Gao Tu glared at the half empty glass in Shen Wenlang’s hand.

The forums had lied. Or maybe Shen Wenlang was just impossible. Definitely impossible.

Phase Three: Catastrophic, with a side of humiliation.

A few weeks had passed since Gao Tu’s last disaster. In that time, he’d tried every private strategy he could imagine, each ending in awkward stumbles, whispered self-scoldings, and quiet mutters to the mirror about how next time would definitely be different.

By now, he was beginning to question the wisdom of the forums. And yet, here it was: one last plan, promising guaranteed results.

One careful package order later, and Gao Tu had what he needed. Before Shen Wenlang’s arrival, he prepared himself.

He had never dared dress like this before. Never imagined he could. His insecurities fluttered with every movement as he arranged the outfit in front of the mirror.

Around his neck rested a golden collar, polished and gleaming. Thin chains trailed down to cuffs around his wrists, and another delicate chain circled his waist, emphasizing the lean line of his hips. He wore a sheer shirt, soft and almost invisible, clinging lightly to the curves of his body while allowing the gold to gleam against his warm, honey toned skin. Nude underwear completed the ensemble, leaving little to the imagination and making him feel exposed in ways he’d never let himself feel before.

He studied himself in the mirror, heart hammering. His ears twitched nervously, tail curling subtly around his ankle.

He had always felt small, ordinary, a rabbit among other beautiful omega hybrids, but now… the shimmer of gold against his warm skin, the lean tension of his body, the delicate sway of his hips in the light, all made him feel impossibly tempting. Not in his mind, not in his usual cautious fantasies, but real, undeniable. He wasn’t entirely sure he could handle looking like this without melting from his own nerves.

The door clicked softly, signaling Shen Wenlang’s arrival.

Gao Tu positioned himself like a soldier on display, ears high, tail flicking in subtle rhythm, chest lifted. Every subtle sway and tilt was calculated, every flick of his ears and curl of his tail a delicate message he hoped the wolf would read.

“Welcome home.” he said, voice steady despite the flush climbing his neck and chest.

Shen Wenlang appeared in the doorway, casual as ever, a file tucked under his arm. His sharp eyes caught sight of Gao Tu, and for the first time, he froze entirely. His bag slipped from his hands to the floor with a loud thump, completely forgotten.

Gao Tu’s ears pinned back, tail twitching nervously. Success? Humiliation? His stomach twisted in suspense.

Shen Wenlang’s gaze swept over him slowly, deliberately, dark and unreadable, and yet impossible to ignore.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

Shen Wenlang growled, voice low, rough, each word vibrating with alpha authority.

Gao Tu’s lips trembled. A wave of embarrassment washed over him, scorching his cheeks. He pressed his tail against the curve of his leg, ears flattening nervously. 

“I… I thought you’d like it,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, gaze darting to the floor. “You hate it?”

Shen Wenlang’s eyes darkened, scanning him with a predator’s intensity, gaze drinking in the honeyed glow of his skin, the shimmer of gold, the soft rise and fall of his chest beneath the sheer shirt. His jaw tightened; the wolf inside him trembled with restrained desire. Every instinct screamed to claim, to taste, to mark.

“Baby, no,” Shen Wenlang said, noticing the forlorn tilt of Gao Tu’s ears, the subtle curl of his tail. His voice was low, warm, comforting, easing the tension in the room. 

“Of course I don’t hate it. I didn’t mean it like that.” His eyes softened, tracing every nervous movement, every twitch of ears and tail. His hands flexed at his sides, muscles taut, but his tone carried quiet reassurance, a promise that he wasn’t upset, only… struggling to keep himself in check.

Gao Tu swallowed hard, voice trembling. “Then… what did you mean?” He edged closer, cautious, unsure, heart hammering like a drum in his chest.

The sheer fabric of his shirt pressed between him and Shen Wenlang’s solid covered chest, his nipples grazing the cool, glinting gold of the chains that ran from his collar to his wrists and waist. The faint weight of the metal tugged slightly as he shifted, and a shiver ran through him, part embarrassment, part involuntary thrill.

Shen Wenlang’s chest rose and fell unevenly, breaths ragged, restraint stretched to the breaking point. His eyes burned, molten and dark, drinking in the sight of the trembling omega, so nervous yet so daring, pressed impossibly close, gold chains catching the firelight like subtle sparks. 

“Baby,” he rasped, low and husky, every word thick with tension he refused to release. “What… are you doing?”

“I… I don’t know,” Gao Tu whispered, ears twitching, tail curling tightly. He pressed even closer without thinking, small and exposed beneath the wolf’s piercing gaze. “I just… wanted to…” He faltered, swallowing hard.

Shen Wenlang’s eyes flicked over him, muscles coiled beneath his suit, fingers clenching at his sides. His pulse thundered, body taut with desire. He exhaled slowly, forcing calm, but the tremor in his hands betrayed the wolf’s longing. Every fiber of him ached to lean in, to taste, to bury himself in the warmth and vulnerability pressed against him.

“I think I know what you’re trying to do,” Shen Wenlang said finally, voice low, strained but controlled, each word a careful battle between reason and instinct.

Gao Tu’s tail twitched, ears pinned, cheeks blazing hotter than the firelight. He pressed a little closer, vulnerability bared, and whispered, “And… what are you going to do about it?”

Shen Wenlang ground his teeth, muscles taut, eyes molten and unreadable.

For a heartbeat Gao Tu thought the wolf might snap. 

Then, with a teasing, impossibly slow exhale, Shen Wenlang’s hand glided out, brushing lightly over the chains glinting against Gao Tu’s honeyed skin.

“Careful, baby,” he murmured, voice low and dangerous. “This ‘gold’ isn’t real, you know. Could turn your skin green if you wear it too long. Might want to take it off before it stains.”

Shen Wenlang then withdrew, heading toward the dining room with exaggerated casualness, talking a little loudly about how he was excited for dinner.

But Gao Tu remained frozen, the sting of rejection sharp, cheeks burning hot. His heart pounded like a drum in his chest, each beat a humiliating reminder of how utterly exposed he felt. He had planned, rehearsed, and teased himself into courage, only for Shen Wenlang to wave him off with that single casual remark about the fake gold. The chains, the sheer fabric, every carefully crafted move he had orchestrated to lure his alpha now felt ridiculous, absurd even, as if he had performed a one rabbit show for an audience that wasn’t even impressed.

He wanted to disappear, to melt into the floor, to bury himself under blankets and pretend this entire evening had never happened. The flush on his cheeks burned hotter with each passing second, his tail curled tightly against him, ears pressed flat, and every flick of them reminded him of how completely visible he had been, how nakedly vulnerable and foolish he looked.

Without a word, he bolted, propelled by embarrassment, straight to the bathroom. The warmth of the lights faded behind him, replaced by the cold, reflective surface of the tiles and mirrors. He shut the door, pressing a trembling hand to the edge of the sink, leaning forward to catch his breath, heart still hammering, tail twitching nervously.

Gao Tu shed the gold chains and sheer fabric, letting them fall to the floor like discarded armor. He sank into a long, hot bath, water cascading over his skin, but the warmth did little to calm the storm inside him. 

At first, he was consumed by doubt, tracing every flicker of Shen Wenlang’s gaze in his mind and convincing himself that nothing he had done had mattered. He had planned, positioned, seduced, and yet… the alpha had seemed untouchable, unreadable, as if his efforts had barely made a ripple.

Time lost all meaning. Minutes stretched into an hour as Gao Tu lay submerged, water lapping against his skin, thoughts spinning tighter and tighter. He replayed the evening endlessly, scrutinizing every movement, every twitch of ears or tail, every flicker of expression. Had he really provoked anything at all, or had he been foolishly exposed for nothing?

Then, slowly, details emerged he hadn’t noticed before. 

The subtle flush across Shen Wenlang’s cheeks. The almost imperceptible tension in his shoulders. The faint twitch of his ears and tail, the quick flex of fingers at his sides. The uneven rise and fall of his chest for the briefest moment before the wolf had regained control. 

Gao Tu’s chest tightened as understanding slowly, painfully bloomed: he had affected him.

Every fiber of Shen Wenlang had wanted to claim, to taste, to mark him but had held back deliberately. That restraint, that careful, agonized control, was proof that Gao Tu’s efforts had worked. The wolf had been stirred, provoked, even if outwardly he had remained calm. The alpha’s measured response was evidence that Gao Tu had mattered, that he had been seen, and that he had drawn out a hunger no one else had ever glimpsed.

A shiver ran through him, part embarrassment, part exultation, as he realized just how dangerously close he had brought the wolf to the edge of his own restraint.

Gao Tu had thought himself powerless and exposed, a trembling little omega with no sway over the solid, impossible alpha before him. Instead, he had sparked something, ignited a fire barely contained, and the knowledge of it made his chest swell with a little wicked pride.

Then another realization hit him like a bolt of lightning. 

He had been so wrapped up in his grand seduction scheme, so consumed with coaxing Shen Wenlang into noticing him, that he had entirely forgotten to prepare dinner! 

A small panic prickled at the back of his neck, his tail flicking nervously as he wrapped a towel more tightly around his shoulders.

He bolted toward the dining room in his bathrobe, ears flattened, fully bracing for the imagined wrath of a hungry, disappointed alpha. Not that Shen Wenlang had ever actually scolded him for missing a meal, but dramatic flair had always been Gao Tu’s specialty.

Instead, the scene that greeted him stole his breath. 

Steam curled lazily from bowls perfectly arranged, the aroma of all his favorite dishes curling around him like a warm embrace. Shen Wenlang sat nearby, hunched over paperwork, shoulders tense, brow furrowed, a quiet intensity radiating from him that made Gao Tu’s chest tighten. The alpha looked slightly overwhelmed, but entirely in control.

Gao Tu froze mid step, cheeks blazing hot, heart hammering so hard he swore Shen Wenlang could hear it. “You… you’re not… mad?” he whispered, voice small, tail curling protectively around his leg.

Shen Wenlang’s gaze flicked up, calm but tired, voice low and measured, with just the faintest rasp of amusement. “Why would I be? Baby, I already told you, there’s no need to cook. My chef has been on standby ever since you moved in. And I already ate, so… you should, too, before it gets cold.”

Gao Tu sagged into the nearest chair, tail twitching, ears still pressed back, completely unprepared for this level of gentle, practical care. There was no admonishment, no scolding, just quiet competence, letting him save face while Shen Wenlang quietly gathered himself.

His chest rose and fell as the panic ebbed, replaced by a slow burn of awe and warmth. 

Phase Four: Humbling, with a side of revelation.

After the golden collar fiasco, Shen Wenlang prowled the apartment like a general on high alert, part alpha, part calculating wolf, part very flustered human who had just realized he was under the spell of a particularly persistent omega. He even slept in the guest room now, claiming his late night project returns shouldn’t disturb Gao Tu’s sleep, which was less about consideration and more about demonstrating that he could choose to be distant.

Every flick of Gao Tu’s ears, every tiny twitch of that impossibly soft, honey kissed tail, every stretch of his lithe, slightly muscular frame practically shouted, I am irresistible. Please react.

But Shen Wenlang was the picture of controlled chaos in slow motion, the calm eye in a storm of temptation. He moved with the precision of a CEO juggling a merger and a minor existential crisis. He probably would have taped his eyes shut if it would help.

Gao Tu noticed everything, of course. The faint catch in Shen Wenlang’s jaw when he reached for the spice rack, the imperceptible thump of his tail when knees brushed, the micro tension in his shoulders whenever Gao Tu stretched, highlighting the curve of his torso and the hard line of his collarbone. 

Gao Tu’s tail swished with quiet, smug satisfaction, ears drooping in mock defeat, a carefully crafted performance of innocence that slowly, deliciously tested the alpha’s restraint.

Weeks passed. Gao Tu’s tail twitched, ears flicked, hips nudged, eyes batted with textbook perfection. He even tried rolling his hips subtly while reaching for things, purely as “exercise.” Shen Wenlang remained immovably distant, frustratingly composed.

Gao Tu had long since unbookmarked the forums, tossed their “expert tips” in favor of trusting his instincts. He realized now that nothing could predict or manipulate the alpha’s will… not golden collars, not scented baths, not carefully calculated wardrobe choices. Nothing.

And yet the tension was palpable. He could feel it radiating from Shen Wenlang, rich and wolfy, pressing in the air like a low hum you could sense but not name. 

The alpha wanted him... right?

He could smell it in the subtle shift of Shen Wenlang’s stance, feel it in the taut line of his muscles, glimpse it in the controlled way his hands flexed at his sides. But Shen Wenlang did not act. Not yet.

And that, more than any golden chain or sheer shirt, was maddening, intoxicating, and perfectly infuriating.

In the middle of this reflection, Gao Tu realized his heat was approaching.

“Oh no,” he muttered, tail flicking nervously as his gaze locked on the calendar pinned above the kitchen counter. How had he been so absorbed in teasing Shen Wenlang, so obsessed with coaxing every flicker of attention, that he had completely ignored his own cycle? 

Normally, he endured his heat alone… soft pillows, carefully hidden toys and strict self discipline. 

But this time, he wanted Shen Wenlang. 

Not toys. Not distractions. He wanted every inch of his alpha, every heartbeat, every scent, every touch.

But so far Shen Wenlang refused to synchronize their cycles. “I want us to build on a solid foundation,” the alpha had said, voice measured, calm but firm, each word carrying quiet, unshakable authority. “I want you to get used to my scent, to living with me, before we take the next step. I’ll spend my rut alone, just like you.”

At the time, Gao Tu had tried to reason it away. 

Logic, he reminded himself. Alpha logic, perhaps.

But now the truth hit him like a thunderclap. 

Maybe Shen Wenlang wasn’t just avoiding the heat. Maybe he was avoiding him. Maybe… maybe he had seen through all of Gao Tu’s efforts…every teasing glance, every subtle, desperate touch meant to draw the wolf’s notice and realized he was no longer attracted. 

Maybe he didn’t want the final step, the mark, the soul bond, the knot, because he didn’t want Gao Tu at all.

The thought clawed at him sharper than humiliation, and Gao Tu froze mid stride. Heart hammering, stomach tightening, tail curling anxiously. His chest felt like it had been caught in a vice, each breath heavier than the last.

He does not want me.

Shame and panic coiled tightly around the heat already blooming in his belly, a constricting knot of fear and longing. Self doubt pricked at him like icy needles. 

Maybe he had misread every glance, every twitch, every slight brush of skin. Maybe every moment he had thought carried meaning, every whispered sigh, every shiver, every heartbeat in sync was just… imagined. 

The nerve endings along his spine screamed with need, mocking him, reminding him with cruel precision of how small, how exposed he truly was.

Tears streaked his cheeks before he could stop them, hot, furious, burning as if his own body resented the betrayal of desire unmet.

“Tu? Are you there?” Shen Wenlang’s voice drifted from the hall, calm and steady, threaded with concern as if he picked up on the changing scent.

Gao Tu’s ears flattened, tail twitching. The last thing he wanted was to be seen like this… crying, weak, utterly defenseless, every instinct screaming hide.

Instinct took over. He bolted for the bedroom, slamming the door behind him, curling into himself on the floor, tail tucked tight, body trembling as though the walls themselves could shield him from the weight of his own panic.

“Baby, I can hear you,” Shen Wenlang said gently, knocking with measured patience, voice firm but warm. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Gao Tu didn’t answer. He bit down on silence, wishing he could vanish, wishing he could rewind every moment of confidence, every calculated glance, every deliberate flick of tail that had been meant to entice. 

Every plan backfired, every angle misread, every daring step a misstep. And in the crushing, suffocating moment, he feared something worse than failure.

Maybe his alpha had truly checked out…

“Leave me alone!” Gao Tu snapped, voice cracking, walls of defensiveness shooting up like spiked armor. “Go away!”

“I can’t just walk away knowing my rabbit is quivering like a leaf,” Shen Wenlang said, low, steady, threading concern through the firmness. “You don’t have to let me in, but talk to me. Please.”

Gao Tu shook his head violently, pressing his face into his knees. “I don’t want you to see me like this! Go away!”

“Baby…” Shen Wenlang stepped closer, voice low and insistent, a soft rumble threading through the words. “Just let me in.”

Gao Tu’s tail twitched against the floorboards, ears flicking and drooping simultaneously, betraying the whirlwind of fear, frustration, and yearning roiling inside him. His chest felt squeezed in a vise, each breath shallow, yet the pull of his alpha was overwhelming, suffocating and comforting all at once, a paradox he both hated and craved.

Gao Tu’s nose twitched, heart hammering, tail curling tighter around his legs. Every inhale of Shen Wenlang’s measured breathing outside the door was torture and temptation intertwined. Every second I wait, I’m melting into him, and he doesn’t even know it.

Finally, with a deep breath and one last shiver of defiance, Gao Tu whispered, “I… I can’t. Not now. Please… leave.”

CRASH!

The bedroom door suddenly exploded under Shen Wenlang’s force. Splinters scattered like raindrops, punctuating the air with a sharp, chaotic rhythm. 

Gao Tu froze, ears flattening, tail curling tight around his trembling legs, heart hammering so violently he swore Shen Wenlang could hear it from across the room. Every instinct screamed to flee, to vanish into the shadows but before he could even move, strong hands gripped his shoulders, anchoring him in place.

“Gao Tu,” Shen Wenlang’s voice rumbled low and rough, edged with restrained fury and something deeper, rawer, a vulnerability so unexpected that it made Gao Tu’s chest constrict painfully. “Why are you hiding from me?”

“I… I…” Gao Tu stammered, hiccuping, voice trembling. He flinched, bracing for scolding, maybe even a growl, something to punish him for his weakness but instead, Shen Wenlang pulled him into a hug so grounding, so utterly possessive, that his knees nearly gave out. 

Every heartbeat, every shallow breath screamed in unison: I’m here. You’re mine.

“Baby…” Shen Wenlang whispered, voice thick with guilt and unfiltered longing. 

Gao Tu’s sobs broke free, hot and uncontrollable, face buried against the alpha’s chest. His body shook, not from fear alone but from the paradox of safety and overwhelming intensity, from the ache of needing someone who was simultaneously his protector and his tormentor.

“I… I’m a mess,” Gao Tu groaned, tail flicking helplessly, ears twitching, voice breaking under the weight of shame, frustration, and desire.

Shen Wenlang shifted, moving deliberately to sit on the edge of the bed. His hands didn’t stop their roaming, sliding under Gao Tu’s arms to gently pull him onto his lap. Every motion was slow, reverent, as if savoring the weight and warmth of the omega pressed against him. His hands moved over him in slow, deliberate, almost sacred circles, tracing the trembling curves of his back as if memorizing every inch of his vulnerability. 

“A mess doesn’t scare me,” he murmured, voice low, steady, layered with unshakable certainty. “I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.”

Frustration, raw and bitter, bubbled over. Gao Tu’s tail lashed violently, ears flattening against his skull. “Don’t say that if you’re just going to leave me soon!” His voice cracked with fear, anger, and despair. 

The last few months, the teasing, the stolen moments, the laughter had been the brightest of his life, and the thought of losing it all sent a shiver of panic racing through him.

Silence pressed down, thick and suffocating, until Shen Wenlang’s voice, low and dangerous, vibrated against his chest. 

“What did you just say?”

Gao Tu flinched, but the deep, resonant growl in the alpha’s chest held him captive, rooting him in place.

“Say that again,” Shen Wenlang ordered, unwavering, voice a mixture of warning and hunger.

“Wh-What…?” Gao Tu stammered, ears flicking nervously, tail curling tighter around his trembling legs.

“I said, say that again. I’m not asking.”

“What… you want me to repeat that you’re going to leave me? Is this some game to you?!” Gao Tu snapped, frustration and fear knotting together, chest heaving, tail twitching like a pendulum of panic.

Shen Wenlang leaned closer, the space between them charged, taut with tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. 

“Do you even realize what you’re saying?” His growl rumbled low, every syllable dripping with alpha authority, disbelief, and pain. Gao Tu tried to push away, flinching, but it was useless. He was still perched on Shen Wenlang’s lap.

“I know I’m naive, Shen Wenlang, but I’m not stupid! Did you think I wouldn’t notice? That I wouldn’t figure out why you haven’t mated me? That it’s because you… don’t want me?” Gao Tu’s voice cracked, raw and urgent, a storm of frustration, fear, and longing spilling out all at once.

Before he could spiral further, Shen Wenlang’s lips claimed his, urgent and uncompromising. Gao Tu gasped, chest heaving, barely able to respond as the kiss deepened, tongues brushing, teasing, and leaving him dizzy.

When they finally pulled back, Gao Tu leaned against Shen Wenlang’s shoulder, trembling, tail curling tightly around him. Shen Wenlang pressed his nose to Gao Tu’s temple, inhaling sharply, as if memorizing the scent of both his fear and need.

“I… I’m so sorry, baby,” Shen Wenlang murmured, voice thick with emotion. “I never wanted you to feel like this.”

Gao Tu let out a bitter laugh, tears still glinting in his eyes. “Then why… why does it feel like you don’t want me?”

Shen Wenlang’s voice dropped, low, fierce, and grounding. “Gao Tu… stop thinking that. It’s not true. I love you. I want you. Every part of you. More than I can put into words.”

Gao Tu’s heart stuttered, disbelief and hope colliding. “Then… then why didn’t you… why…”

“Because I couldn’t risk hurting you,” Shen Wenlang interrupted softly, yet every syllable carried weight, authority, and care.

Gao Tu’s ears twitched, tail flicking nervously. “Hurt me?”

Shen Wenlang’s jaw tightened, but his eyes softened, flickering between raw intensity and something almost tender. 

“Gao Tu… it’s not that I don’t want you.” He exhaled, low and deliberate. “I’m… bigger than most can handle. That’s why I always spend my rut alone. Most panic, freeze, or bolt and it ends up hurting them more than it ever could please them.” His gaze darkened slightly, edged with frustration at past failures. “Doctors even warned me… my knot isn’t just above average. It’s… overwhelming.” 

He lifted a thumb, brushing the corner of his eye in a gesture so intimate it made Gao Tu’s heart stutter. “I couldn’t forgive myself if I ever hurt you. You’re mine, and I’ll never do that to you. Not now. Not ever.”

Gao Tu shivered, tail curling tighter, ears flattening against his skull. Heat pooled in his belly, creeping upward, cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and longing. Shen Wenlang’s nostrils flared, eyes widening slightly as he caught the subtle shift in scent.

“Gao Tu… your heat,” Shen Wenlang said sharply, ears flicking, voice taut with instinct. “Did… did it come early?”

The air between them thickened, charged with something Gao Tu couldn’t name. His skin prickled under his clothes, too warm, too tight, and the slow, insistent slick building beneath him was impossible to ignore. He hadn’t meant for this to happen, not here, not now, but Shen Wenlang’s lap was solid and warm beneath him. The scent of concern laced with something sharper, maybe curiosity, made his pulse skip.

Shen Wenlang stiffened as he felt it too, the damp seeping through fabric. His breath hitched.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered, startled enough to shift just slightly and jostle Gao Tu in his lap.

A small gasp escaped the omega at the friction, hips twitching before he could stop himself.

“D-do you need help?” Shen Wenlang asked, face burning crimson. “Should I go?”

Gao Tu shook his head fast, a whimper rising in his throat as he curled closer instinctively.  

“N-no… please… stay.”

Shen Wenlang hesitated, a silent struggle playing out behind his eyes.

Gao Tu pressed closer, grinding against the alpha's thigh and whimpering, desperate to convince him.

"Please stay with me," he pleaded, his voice a desperate whisper. "I need you here. Please spend my heat with me... You've made me wait for too long."

"Tutu..." Shen Wenlang's voice trailed off, uncertainty flickering across his face. "What if I hurt you?"

"You won't," Gao Tu assured him, shaking his head fervently. "You won't hurt me. You'll take care of me… I trust you, please."

Gao Tu could feel the alpha’s hesitation like a weight pressing against his chest. His inner omega twitched impatiently with each passing second, muttering something very un-polite about wanting the alpha now. 

The thought of enduring his heat alone again was almost criminal. Just as he was stewing in frustrated anticipation, a sharp, undeniable pang shot through his lower abdomen, making him wince.

A low groan slipped from his lips as the cramp tightened, his hips jerking forward instinctively. The movement pressed him harder against Shen Wenlang’s thigh, and he couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through him, heat pooling low, slick seeping steadily, soaking into his clothes.

"Just... just the head," Gao Tu bargained, voice breaking. It was humiliating and desperate and utterly necessary. "Please… I just need to feel you inside me… even a little. Anything but that cold damn toy again." His breath hitched. "I want you, Shen Wenlang… please let me have even a piece of you."

“Just the head?” Shen Wenlang’s voice was a low growl, tinged with disbelief. His eyes burned into Gao Tu, who trembled beneath his gaze, cheeks flushed crimson, tail twitching nervously.

The omega’s plea hung in the air like a spark waiting to ignite.

“Y-yes,” Gao Tu whimpered, shifting in Shen Wenlang’s lap, thighs squeezing as slick dampened his skin. His ears flicked nervously, tail twitching in little, betraying jerks. “I can’t take another night alone. I can’t.” His voice softened into a whisper, sweet and shaky. “Please, Wenlang… I’ll be good. I promise.”

Shen Wenlang’s jaw tightened, his alpha instincts warring with his restraint. He could smell the omega’s heat, sweet, intoxicating, maddening and it took every ounce of willpower not to pin Gao Tu to the bed right then and there. But the fear of hurting him, of being too much, held him back.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” Shen Wenlang murmured, his voice rough, strained. His hands tightened on Gao Tu’s hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh beneath the fabric of his clothes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Gao Tu whimpered, his hips instinctively rocking forward, seeking friction, seeking him. “I don’t care,” he breathed, his voice trembling with need. “I want you. All of you. Please, Shen Wenlang… I can’t take it anymore.”

Shen Wenlang exhaled slowly, the sound halfway between a growl and a laugh. “You really don’t make it easy, do you?” he muttered, nose brushing against Gao Tu’s hair, inhaling the maddening sweetness. 

For weeks, he had walked the knife’s edge of self control. Now, with his rabbit writhing in his lap, begging so prettily, that edge crumbled to dust.

His lips found Gao Tu’s ear, teeth grazing lightly before he whispered, low and deliberate, “You win, baby.”

And then he gave in.

With a low growl, Shen Wenlang flipped Gao Tu onto his back, pinning him to the bed with a predatory ease that sent a shiver of anticipation down the omega’s spine. Gao Tu’s breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest as Shen Wenlang loomed over him, his broad frame casting a shadow that seemed to swallow the room whole.

“You asked for this,” Shen Wenlang growled, his voice deep, threatening, promising. 

Gao Tu nodded frantically, his hands clutching at the alpha’s shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

Shen Wenlang wasted no time. His hands gripped the hem of Gao Tu’s shirt and yanked it off in a single, forceful motion, leaving him bare. Cool air swept across his skin, raising goosebumps, but it was nothing compared to the molten heat swirling low in his belly.

Shen Wenlang’s gaze lingered, hungry and reverent all at once. 

Gao Tu was not like the soft, delicate omegas most alphas were used to. His body told a different story. Creamy beige skin gleamed in the light, stretched over lean muscle. The faint ridges of his abs shifted with each breath, his narrow waist drawing the eye in sharp contrast to the quiet strength in his shoulders. He was lithe, quick, rabbit-born, yet beautiful in a way that was both fragile and fierce. 

It was the kind of beauty that unsettled a wolf, that made restraint feel impossible.

The alpha’s hands began to move again, slow at first, then urgent, as if unable to stop. He touched, explored, claimed, tracing the cut of his torso, the smooth plane of his chest, the curve where his waist tapered in. Gao Tu arched into the contact instinctively, his breath breaking into short, ragged gasps, his ears flicking helplessly as though even they could not withstand the intensity of being wanted so deeply.

Shen Wenlang’s voice dropped to a low rumble, a sound that vibrated with hunger and something softer. “Mine.”

The alpha’s lips found his neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, and Gao Tu moaned, fingers tangling in Shen Wenlang’s hair. “P-please,” he begged, voice breaking as Shen Wenlang’s hands trailed lower, slipping beneath the waistband of his pants.

With a sharp motion, he ripped Gao Tu’s pants off, leaving him completely exposed. The omega’s backside gleamed under the light, smooth and flushed, every curve and dip catching Shen Wenlang’s hungry gaze. Gao Tu’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but the way Shen Wenlang’s eyes darkened with desire made it impossible to look away. Vulnerable, exposed, yet thrillingly alive, Gao Tu arched instinctively, pressing his back and hips closer to the alpha, silently inviting him.

“So beautiful,” Shen Wenlang murmured, his voice rough with desire. His hands trailed down Gao Tu’s thighs, spreading them apart, exposing him completely. The omega whimpered, his tail curling around Shen Wenlang’s wrist as he tried to close his legs, but the alpha wouldn’t allow it.

“Shh,” Shen Wenlang soothed, his voice low, commanding. “Let me take care of you.” His fingers brushed against Gao Tu’s entrance, and the omega gasped, his hips jerking forward instinctively. 

He was already wet, so wet and the thought of Shen Wenlang’s knot filling him sent a jolt of anticipation through his body.

“Wenlang,” Gao Tu moaned, his voice trembling as the alpha’s fingers pressed inside him, stretching him open slowly, carefully. The stretch was delicious, painful yet euphoric, and Gao Tu arched into the touch, his nails digging into the sheets.

“Relax,” Shen Wenlang whispered, his breath hot against Gao Tu’s ear. “Just relax for me, Tutu.” His fingers curled inside him, brushing against a spot that made Gao Tu cry out, his entire body tightening with pleasure.

“Oh god,” Gao Tu gasped, his hips bucking against Shen Wenlang’s hand as the pleasure mounted, overwhelming him. His vision blurred, his breaths coming in short, shallow gasps as Shen Wenlang worked him open, preparing him for what was to come.

“You’re so tight,” Shen Wenlang murmured, voice low and urgent. “Feels even better than I imagined. You’re ready for me, aren’t you, Tutu?”

Gao Tu could barely nod, ears flicking, tail curling, unable to speak through the haze of need.

Shen Wenlang’s hands shot to the hem of his shirt, ripping it off in one swift, commanding motion, and Gao Tu’s eyes went wide, tail curling tighter, ears flicking helplessly as if trying to escape the intensity of what he was seeing.

Every inch of the alpha’s body screamed power… broad, solid shoulders, taut ridges of pale muscle along his arms and chest, the sharp V of his torso tapering down to a narrow waist, skin glowing under the light like it had been polished for him alone.

Before Gao Tu could even blink, Shen Wenlang kicked off his pants too, the belt clattering to the floor with a victorious clang, and the sight made his jaw go dry. 

The alpha’s cock was impossibly thick, long, and stunningly pink at the tip, already heavy and glistening, arching proudly against the pale plane of his lower abdomen. 

Heat pooled low in Gao Tu’s belly, ears drooping, tail twitching like a live wire, and all he could do was gape, cheeks burning, stomach twisting, heart hammering. 

Gao Tu couldn’t stop the shaky, awed laugh that escaped him. “I… I can’t believe how… you’re… how is that even possible?” His words tumbled out, flustered, half in disbelief, half in admiration, utterly incapable of hiding how completely Shen Wenlang had undone him.

Shen Wenlang’s lips curled, not with amusement, but with raw, predatory hunger. His voice dropped low, rough and charged. “You asked for this, baby,” he said, eyes dark and burning as he pressed closer, heat radiating off him in waves that left Gao Tu trembling.

“Yes, so hurry up…” Gao Tu whispered, breath hitching.

The alpha didn’t make him wait any longer. No teasing, no slow build-up. Gao Tu was in heat, hot and impatient, and the alpha wasn’t about to make him wait. With a low rumble, Shen Wenlang positioned himself at Gao Tu’s entrance, his cock thick and heavy against the omega’s slick hole. Gao Tu’s breath hitched, ears drooping, tail curling tighter, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared up at Shen Wenlang, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and anticipation.

“Last chance,” Shen Wenlang whispered, his voice thick with restraint. “Tell me to stop.”

Gao Tu shook his head frantically, his hands clutching at Shen Wenlang’s shoulders. “No,” he gasped, his voice trembling with need. “Don’t stop. Please, Shen Wenlang… I need you. I-I want you.”

Shen Wenlang didn’t need to be told twice. With a low, commanding press, he pushed forward, his cock stretching Gao Tu open inch by agonizing inch. The omega’s breath caught in his throat, his nails digging into Shen Wenlang’s shoulders as he tried to adjust to the sheer size of him. It hurt, oh gods, it hurt, but beneath the pain was a pleasure so intense it made his head spin.

“S-slow,” Gao Tu gasped, voice trembling, tail flicking nervously. 

He had begged for just the head before, terrified of being overwhelmed, but now every fiber of him ached for more. Shen Wenlang’s hands gripped his hips like steel, guiding him inch by agonizing inch into Gao Tu’s tight, hungry heat. Each movement stretched him exquisitely, sending sparks of pleasure mixed with sharp, consuming pain up his spine.

“You’re doing so good, Tutu,” Shen Wenlang murmured, voice low, thick with restraint and need. His hands anchored Gao Tu, holding him steady as he bottomed out completely. Gao Tu’s back arched, tail curling, ears drooping, body trembling with the exquisite agony of being stretched to the edge of what he could handle… and wanting more.

Shen Wenlang froze for a heartbeat, breath hitching. Most omegas or betas would have panicked by now, bolted at the first overwhelming stretch, but not this rabbit. 

Gao Tu wasn’t just surviving it. He wanted it. He wanted all of him. 

A flicker of something soft, something tender, sparked in Shen Wenlang’s chest, and a low, hungry hum slipped past his lips.

“Wenlang…” Gao Tu gasped, shivering, voice breaking. “I… I want… I need… you… please.”

Shen Wenlang’s lips curled, a mix of awe and desire twisting through him. “You… actually want this?” he murmured, eyes dark, voice thick with emotion. He pressed closer, heat radiating off him, hands digging into Gao Tu’s hips as he tested the omega’s limits. “You’re… unbelievable, baby.”

Gao Tu whimpered, rocking into him instinctively, every nerve on fire. “I… I can take it… I want it… I want you, all of you…”

Shen Wenlang’s gaze softened, a flicker of endearment hiding beneath the raw hunger. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, voice rough and reverent, pressing a quick, searing kiss to the curve of Gao Tu’s shoulder. “You make it impossible to hold back.”

With that, Shen Wenlang moved again, slow at first, savoring the delicious tension, letting Gao Tu adjust, reveling in the way the omega not only endured him but begged for more. Then he drove forward with a relentless, precise rhythm, every thrust claiming, consuming, pushing Gao Tu to the edge and beyond. Gao Tu’s body shivered, trembling, yet demanding every inch, utterly undone beneath the alpha’s hands and weight.

Gao Tu’s vision blurred, breaths shallow, rapid, heart hammering as pleasure roared through him like wildfire. When Shen Wenlang’s knot caught on his rim, stretching him impossibly wide, he cried out, a keening sound of complete surrender, his body clenching around the alpha. Every nerve ended in fire, every muscle coiled in exquisite torment and bliss.

Shen Wenlang froze for the briefest heartbeat, hips still buried deep, feeling the omega tighten around him, feeling the delicious, overwhelming proof of Gao Tu’s need. Then, his instincts took over. Leaning forward, teeth brushed along Gao Tu’s neck, a sharp, hot nip, the mating bite, seared into his skin, claiming him utterly. 

The mark burned with an intimacy both fierce and possessive, a promise, a bond, and Gao Tu’s body arched involuntarily, tail curling, ears flattening.

“You’re mine,” Shen Wenlang murmured, voice thick, ragged, vibrating through Gao Tu as the knot held them together. “All of you, all the time, Tutu. Nobody else could ever touch you like this.”

Gao Tu shivered violently, gasping, every inch of him alive with the alpha’s claim, overwhelmed by the ache and fire of it all. His heart pounded not just with pleasure, but with the staggering, dizzying certainty that he was utterly, irrevocably Shen Wenlang’s.

“Shen Wenlang,” Gao Tu gasped, his voice shaky but filled with awe, he felt so full, so complete, like nothing else in the world mattered except the alpha connected to him. “It’s… It’s amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” Shen Wenlang growled softly, amber eyes filled with an endless devotion. He kissed Gao Tu softly, brushing tender nibbles and tastes against soft lips before pulling back to look at him earnestly. “How does it feel for you?”

Gao Tu shuddered at Shen Wenlang’s deep voice, grinding against the alpha’s knot instinctively as his body sought more pleasure. “So good,” he moaned, unable to articulate how much he cherished every inch of Shen Wenlang inside him. Every press of his swollen knot sent delicious waves rippling through his entire core.

It wasn’t long before Shen Wenlang’s thrust picked up again, slower than before but much harder, pushing Gao Tu closer towards another peak with each jagged movement. The rabbit omega whimpered and twisted beneath him, hands clutching desperately onto broad shoulders as Shen Wenlang drove into him over and over again.

Shen Wenlang’s knot pressed deep, filling Gao Tu completely, every inch of him trembling at the sensation. His hands gripped the sheets, tail curling tight, ears pinned back, and he whimpered, “Ah… Wenlang…!”

The alpha’s fangs grazed the sensitive skin of his neck again in a sharp, possessive bite, eliciting a ragged moan from the omega. The pain was sharp, intoxicating and exactly enough to push Gao Tu over the edge, his body shivering as pleasure and heat surged together.

And then it happened.

A spark, a thread, a pull deep inside them both. 

Sudden, undeniable. Gao Tu’s vision blurred with warmth and shock as something ancient stirred, connecting them in ways words couldn’t reach. Threads of awareness, of instinct, of soul, wove themselves together, binding him to Shen Wenlang in a perfect, inescapable harmony.

Soulbond.

Gao Tu gasped, his body trembling not from Shen Wenlang’s weight alone but from the overwhelming clarity of it. His heart raced, wild and full, and a laugh of disbelief slipped from his lips. “W-what… what’s happening?”

Shen Wenlang’s eyes were wide for the briefest moment, pupils dark, molten. Then they softened as realization settled in. “Gao Tu… we’re… we’re connected. Fully.” His voice was low, steady, reverent. “You’re mine. I’m yours.”

Gao Tu’s tail wrapped around himself, shivering with relief and joy. “Finally,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to Shen Wenlang’s chest. “Finally… you are mine.”

Shen Wenlang let out a low chuckle, brushing hair from Gao Tu’s damp face. 

Gao Tu nuzzled into him, laughing softly between breaths, tail flicking happily. “I can’t believe it… we’re soulbonded.”

“And you couldn’t have done it with anyone else,” Shen Wenlang murmured, voice rumbling like a purr as he tightened his hold. “Only you, baby. Only you.”

Gao Tu shivered with pure happiness, burying his face in Shen Wenlang’s shoulder. “I’m so happy… we’re finally… together like this.”

The alpha’s lips pressed to the top of his head, teeth grazing lightly in another teasing bite. “Mine. Every messy, perfect bit of you,” Shen Wenlang said, and the bond between them thrummed in sync with their hearts.

For the first time, Gao Tu felt completely safe, completely wanted, completely his alpha’s.

Shen Wenlang collapsed beside Gao Tu, still breathing hard, chest rising and falling in jagged rhythms. The sheets were tangled, sweat-slicked skin pressed together, and the scent of their heat lingered heavy in the air. 

His eyes scanned Gao Tu’s body like he was seeing him for the first time and maybe he was.

“You… you really took me so easily,” Shen Wenlang said, voice low, rough around the edges. 

“You have a crazy look in your eyes.” Gao Tu teased, still stuck in a bit of haze.

“Crazy look?” Shen Wenlang’s voice dropped to a growl. “I don’t care. I can’t get enough of you. Every inch of you… honey skin, red nipples, every damn curve… I’m obsessed, and I don’t want to stop.” His fingers wandered lower, brushing against the soft swell of Gao Tu’s hip. “Do you have any idea how impossible it is for me to stay calm after everything we just did? It wouldn’t be normal if I didn’t look crazy.”

Gao Tu’s ears twitched, a mixture of shyness and pride coloring his blush. “Well… maybe you should’ve told me. I thought that maybe… maybe you didn’t want me.”

Shen Wenlang’s chest tightened, a flash of guilt crossing his eyes before he leaned down, pressing his forehead to Gao Tu’s. 

“You’re everything I’ve wanted… everything I didn’t even know I needed. And I… I kept thinking if I pushed too hard, I’d hurt you. I couldn’t risk it.”

Gao Tu’s tail curled around Shen Wenlang’s arm, and a soft laugh escaped him. “What about my seduction attempts, I thought I scared you off with how ridiculous I was being.”

Shen Wenlang grinned, eyes dark with heat. “I was scared, yes… Scared of losing control. Scared that I’d break you… and obsessed enough that I couldn’t let you out of my head. Every time I… touched myself after your little seduction attempts… I was scared of losing it.”

Gao Tu preened immediately, a triumphant glint in his eyes. 

“Oh?” he grinned, nuzzling against the alpha. “I actually made you… think of me?”

“Yes,” Shen Wenlang said, voice low and urgent. “Every single time. And now… now that you’re here, after everything… I can’t stop looking at you. I want to mark you more, kiss every inch, remember this… remember you.” He pressed another kiss to Gao Tu’s cheek, then down the neck, pausing to admire the hickeys and bites littered across his honey skin. “God, you’re beautiful. Ridiculously, impossibly beautiful.”

Gao Tu let out a soft chuckle, tail flicking lazily. “And you’re ridiculously obsessive,” he said, nudging him playfully. “But… I like it. Just… maybe stop talking before I melt completely.”

Shen Wenlang laughed, low and husky, pressing his nose into the curve of Gao Tu’s shoulder.

“Melt all you want. You’re mine, Tu. And I’m not done yet.”

Gao Tu hummed happily, nuzzling closer. “Good. Because I’m not planning on going anywhere. And maybe… maybe I like being your obsession.”

Shen Wenlang’s hand stroked along Gao Tu’s side, lingering over every curve, every bite mark. “You have no idea what it does to me, seeing you like this. I’ve wanted this for so long… and now… now I finally have you.” He pressed another kiss, slower, deeper, greedy in a way that made Gao Tu shiver. “And I don’t ever want to let go.”

Gao Tu grinned, tilting his head. “Well, in that case… I guess we’ll just have to spend the next few days proving that, won’t we?”

Shen Wenlang groaned, capturing his lips in a long, claiming kiss. “Oh, we’re going to spend them… proving everything,” he murmured against his mouth. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

Gao Tu’s laugh was soft, breathy, and utterly satisfied. “I don’t think I’ll ever want to.”

A week later, Gao Tu was humming in the kitchen, ears twitching with every sharp sizzle of the pan. The air smelled of ginger and soy, rich and comforting, but it could not compare to the warmth curling beneath his skin. He was glowing, utterly sated, still dizzy from the memory of Shen Wenlang’s heat, his weight, his teeth.

Every tilt of his head made the fresh bite on his neck ache. The dull throb flared when his collar brushed against it, sharp enough to sting, warm enough to make him smile. It hurt because it was real, because it belonged to Shen Wenlang, and Gao Tu would not have traded that ache for anything.

The doorbell rang. He wiped his hands on a towel and padded to the door. On the porch sat a sleek black box tied with a red ribbon, a discreet card perched on top.

He carried it inside and set it on the counter. The ribbon slipped free beneath his fingers, and the lid lifted with almost ceremonial care. 

Inside, nestled on velvet, was a golden choker, sleek and decadent, chains spilling like liquid fire. Real gold, heavy, made to be worn, made for him.

Gao Tu’s breath caught. His fingers trembled as he lifted it, the cool weight settling against his throat. The metal brushed over his fresh bite, a kiss and a sting all at once, and he shivered.

The card was written in Shen Wenlang’s bold, unmistakable hand:

For my Tutu. Your neck is probably sore, but don’t pout. My mark looks better than any jewel. The fake chain was cute. This one is real. This one stays.

A helpless laugh escaped him, soft and incredulous. His ears flicked madly, betraying him, and he pressed the note against his chest as if it could melt right into his heart.

“Heaven,” he muttered, cheeks burning as his smile stretched wider. “I am actually in heaven.”