Ren stood in front of the full-length mirror, his skin crawling as he looked at the expensive get-up he had been practically forced into.
He was wearing a suit that cost more than a white-collar worker's yearly salary. It was black, perfectly tailored to his thin frame, but the color that stood out was the deep Vane-crimson of the silk shirt underneath.
And then there was the collar.
Cilian had replaced the heavy iron for the evening. Now, a band of black leather sat around Ren's throat, fastened with a silver buckle in the back. In the center, a single, teardrop-shaped ruby hung—a drop of blood against his pale skin.
Even without the iron collar, Ren still looked like a slave. A high-maintenance slave.
He reached for the collar, his hand nearly touching the ruby when Cilian's voice came from the doorway.
"You look exquisite,"
He walked right up to Ren, flashing his charcoal suit and how much money he spent on his golden cufflinks.
He stood right beside Ren, forcing Ren to feel the heat radiating from him and the suffocating scent of his cold Pheromones.
Cilian's hand reached out, his fingers grazing the leather of the collar before settling on the back of Ren's neck.
Ren kept his gaze on the mirror, his jaw clenched in disgust. "Is this what you wanted?" He asked. "To show everyone you bought an expensive dog?"
Cilian laughed, a soft, airy sound. He leaned down, burying his face in the crook of Ren's neck, taking a deep inhale of Ren's Pheromones. Even the scent of the new suit seemed to fade completely, and the only scent he could process was that of sweet lavender. That intoxicating lavender seemed to be what Ren let out the most when he was angry.
Was that why he liked to get on Ren's nerves most of the time? Likely.
Ren felt Cilian's heart racing against his back.
But he could not see the expression on his face. If he did, he would've come face to face with that terrifying flushed face that seemed to be intoxicated with his scent.
"Not a dog, Ren," Cilian whispered against his skin. "A masterpiece. I want them to look at you and know that no matter how much they offer, you are the one thing they can never have."
He nipped at the back of Ren's neck, just above the collar, a sharp, possessive bite that made Ren gasp.
"Remember the deal," Cilian murmured, pulling back just enough to look Ren in the eye through the mirror, that flushed expression completely gone and replaced with his usual cunning fox smile. "Just smile and stay close to me. Don't make me look bad in front of anybody, okay? If you can do that, I just might let you talk to Toby tonight."
Ren felt a spike of hope knowing he might get to speak with Toby. He closed his eyes, his hands shaking at his sides.
"I hate you," Ren said, his voice a dead, flat line.
Cilian's smile only widened, his fox eyes curving into those terrifying crescents. He didn't seem bothered by the hatred. If anything, he seemed to thrive on it.
"I know," Cilian said, grabbing Ren's hand and interlacing their fingers, his grip bruisingly tight. "Now, let's go. The guests are waiting to see my prize."
The car ride to the city center was suffocating. Ren sat in the back of the darkened sedan, his hands folded in his lap to hide their trembling.
Cilian sat right next to him, his thigh pressed against Ren's, his hand resting heavy on Ren's knee. Every time the car hit a bump, Cilian's grip tightened, as if he was worried Ren would disappear with even the least bit of distraction.
His hand on Ren's knee was just a way to stop Ren from attempting to flee.
He had already used Toby as a leech, but there was no telling what this little birdie was capable of.
Ren looked at his hand gripping his knee and could feel a sense of paranoia from Cilian.
He didn't understand why Cilian needed to go this far. He already showed that he had Toby. Ren was a sentimental person and an Omega who could not bear to leave the fate of a child to this monster. Especially if that child was his nephew.
So for now, he planned to play along, wait for the perfect opportunity, and—
"You're thinking too much," Cilian said, his voice cutting through the silence in the car and Ren's thoughts. "Your scent is turning sour. Relax, Ren. It's just a party."
"It's a funeral," Ren replied, looking out the window. "That's why we're all wearing black, isn't it?"
Cilian blinked, realizing he hadn't thought of that fact, but then he laughed. "Don't be dramatic. It's your debut. It's a bad thing to call it a funeral, so don't say it again."
Ren simply kept his gaze out the window. Whatever Cilian said, it went through one ear and found its way out the other ear.
To call his appearance at a place filled with traitors of his family… How laughable.
The hate he felt towards Cilian was just as strong as the hate he felt towards the other families. Whether they were part of the former Big Three or a lesser neutral family.
The gala was held at the Grand Ivory, a hotel the Vanes had owned for a decade. And as the car pulled up to the private entrance, flashes of cameras erupted like gunfire.
Ren flinched, but Cilian's arm was suddenly around his waist, pulling him against his side to exhibit their closeness. The Alpha's scent—that cold winter air—flooded Ren's senses, making his head swim.
Ren knew Cilian released his Pheromones on purpose, but he just couldn't fight it. All he could do was bite the inside of his mouth till he tasted copper.
"Chin up," Cilian whispered, his breath hot against Ren's ear. "You need to smile for the camera."
Ren straightened his spine. He focused on his center of gravity, shifting his weight to keep his injured shoulder from drooping.
He walked through the gilded doors with Cilian as if he were walking to his own execution, his face a mask of cold, porcelain indifference. He didn't smile. How could he?
Even if he tried to force it, it just wasn't possible.