The following days were a study in stifling, gilded devotion. Kim Sol, the man who had previously treated the world with the bored detachment, had transformed into a hovering, relentless guardian. He smothered me with a level of care that bordered on the obsessive; every time I shifted my weight or reached for a tool in the woodshop, he was there, his hand steadying my elbow or his eyes tracking my pulse. It was maddening. I was an S-class Alpha, a man whose reputation as "The Tongue Ripper" made hardened criminals cross the hallway to avoid me, yet here I was, being treated like a piece of fine porcelain that had already cracked.
It was infuriating but, in the dark corners of my mind I refused to acknowledge, it was the most grounded I had felt in years.
I sought sanctuary in the only place he couldn't follow - the therapy room.
Yi-jun - or "Doctor Jie" to the rest of the prison population - was waiting for me, but he wasn't alone in the way I expected. As soon as the door clicked shut, he didn't open his notebook. Instead, he looked at me with a mixture of pity and mischief, sliding his personal smartphone across the desk.
"She's been calling every ten minutes," he said softly. "If you don't talk to her, she's going to fly a drone into the yard."
My breath hitched. I grabbed the phone, and before I could even say hello, my sister's voice exploded through the speaker.
"Song Bin! You absolute idiot!"
The voice was a familiar, sharp crackle that immediately made my shoulders drop.
"Noona," I whispered, the word feeling heavy in my throat.
"Don't 'Noona' me! I almost had a stroke when Yi-jun told me you were in the hospital. A shiv, Bin? Really? You're an S-class! How do you let a B-class amateur get that close to you?" She was pacing, her A-class Alpha aura even coming through the small speakers.
I apologized profusely, my voice dropping into the small, submissive register I only used for her. She was the only person in the world I ever truly cowered before. Yi-jun just sat there, leaning back in his chair with a cheeky grin, clearly enjoying the sight of me being thoroughly dismantled by a phone call.
Finally, after a grueling marathon of soothing her fears, she hung up. I tossed the phone back to Yi-jun and glared at him.
"How are you?" he asked, his voice returning to its professional, albeit slightly amused, lilt.
"I am fine," I snapped.
"And your wound?"
"The infirmary cleared me," I said, my voice dripping with boredom. "It's healed."
Yi-jun checked his notes through his thin-rimmed glasses. "The person who stabbed you was punished. But interestingly, the guards found him in the isolation wing yesterday. He was... significantly bruised. Broken jaw, shattered ribs. Someone got to him before the guards did."
I knew where this was headed. Yi-jun wasn't just my therapist He was my brother-in-law, the man who had married the only light in my dark world, they had a child together. No one in this facility knew that the monster Song Bin had a sister, an A-class Alpha who ran a successful neighborhood cafe. We had been raised in two different worlds, a fact I thanked the universe for every night. She got to live her life.
"Is he the person you like?" Yi-jun asked, the question landing like a heavy stone.
I groaned, dragging my hand down my face.
"You spent your rut with him, didn't you?" He leaned forward, his eyes bright. "Look, Bin, we're family. I'm not just your doctor."
"You're an irritant," I muttered, though my anger lacked any real sting. He had let me talk to my sister; he had helped me keep her world separate from mine. I owed him that much.
"If you need more condoms than the standard issue, you can just tell me," he said, winking. I snarled at him, a low vibration in my chest that usually made men's knees weak. He didn't even flinch. "But on a serious note... be careful, Bin."
I looked at him, my brow furrowing.
"His trial," Yi-jun said, his voice dropping. "It's being brought to court again. Apparently, there was a mistrial. ZQ Holdings has been moving mountains behind the scenes."
I felt my breath hitch. A mistrial meant he could be leaving. It meant the "dream" was reaching its expiration date. Yi-jun was warning me not to get too attached, but it was far too late for that. I had already let him in.
The next few days were a bittersweet haze. I tried to cherish every moment, reciprocating Sol's embraces while we slept, allowing myself to be grounded by his presence even as the looming reality of his departure sat in the corner of my mind like a predator.
****
"Ughhh!" The sound was ripped from my throat as I let my head fall back onto Sol's shoulder. I was on all fours, my back arched in a desperate, trembling bow as his hands sunk into my waist with a possessive, bruising force.
"Fuck... you are so beautiful," he grunted. His voice was a deep, predatory rumble that vibrated through my spine. He kissed the back of my neck, his tongue tracing the line of my vertebrae while his hand traveled down, holding onto my member and fiddling with the sensitive skin with a dexterity that sent my already sensitive body into a total, white-noise overdrive.
I had wondered when his rut would happen, but I hadn't expected this. His pheromones were no longer masked ,It was something archaic. They were suffocating and overpowering every S-class instinct I possessed. I felt like I was crumbling into dust beneath the sheer intense pressure he was radiating.
He thrust inside me, deeper than I thought possible, making me moan with a volume that would have been humiliating if the room wasn't soundproof.
After his initial display in the yard, CJ had mentioned that Sol claimed to be an S-class Alpha with a rare childhood "condition" that masked his scent. But On paper, he was an A-class Alpha. I knew this because I had spied on his records when I went to the infirmary for my checkup.
I knew he was full of bullshit. No A-class, and certainly no ordinary S-class, could overpower me like this.
He thrust hard, hitting the spot that made my vision spark. The surge of pleasure was so violent I felt my muscles go weak. It had already been two days, and he showed no signs of slowing down. His stamina was terrifying, matching my own rut beat for beat. Even when I was a trembling, spent mess, he looked like he could go for a dozen more rounds.
I felt something hot hit my prostate—a sudden, deep surge that made my breath leave me in a ragged gasp. .I shuddered, my body threatening to collapse, but his hands held me steady, pinning me to him.
"You... you didn't wear a condom?" I panted heavily , my voice a wreck., the air in the room smelling like sex and salt.
"They finished a round or two ago," he muttered in a haze against my skin.
He pulled out of me slowly, and I felt the ache of his absence instantly. My body was sensitive, the skin of my thighs raw from the friction of his size. Every time he entered me, I wondered if I would actually break, yet my body always stretched to accommodate him, as if I were designed for this specific violation.
He turned me around, his eyes a glowing, hazed red. He kissed my neck, my chest, my face, every inch of me was being claimed. A part of me wished he would never leave, but how could I ask that? He was used to being free. Asking him to stay was like asking a bird to clip its own wings.
"I love you."
The words froze the blood in my veins. I stared up at him, The words were a physical blow, my heart stopping in my chest as I looked up at him. His eyes were a dark, burning red, the haze of the rut still clouding his features. He looked vulnerable. He looked terrified of his own admission.
"You don't have to say it back," he whispered, capturing my lips again. I felt his hands slide under my knees, widening my legs and lifting them high, exposing me completely before he slowly, agonizingly, began to sink back into me.
"You are swallowing me so well, Bin."he praised, his voice a low purr.
The intimacy was too much. I felt overtaken, not just physically, but emotionally. His bare skin inside me felt exhilarating. I kissed him back with a desperate zeal, my moans muffled against his lips as our skin slapped together in a rhythmic symphony of heat. I buried my head in his shoulder, my hands circling around his back, pulling him as close as possible.
I wanted this moment to last forever. I cursed myself for ignoring the obvious truth: the warden was at his beck and call, and the "mistrial" was just a legal formality to erase the stain in his records.
I felt a sudden, cool moisture on my cheek. He stopped moving, his hand brushing the tear away.
"You're crying?" his voice was laced with a sudden, sharp fear.
I lay there, staring at him through a veil of tears I hadn't realized were falling. I had shown this man more in two months than I had shown the world in twenty-five years. I pulled his face down, capturing his lips in a kiss that tasted of salt and desperation, a silent plea for him to keep me in this moment. He didn't protest; he dove back into the kiss, his hunger bordering on the maniacal.
"Fuck me!" I moaned, moving my hips against him.
He obliged with a renewed hunger, using my body like a ragdoll, hitting that same deep spot with every thrust ,sending me into a fit of moaning that shredded my already sore throat. I c*m twice the intensity so sharp I felt my vision dimming, before he finally joined me.
He kissed my forehead as we both breathed in heavy, ragged gasps. I felt it then ,the slow, internal expansion.
"Wait... pull out," I groaned, trying to push against his chest as the realization hit.
He winced as the base of his member expanded, locking us together as he buryed his face in my neck and tightened his hold on me.I let out a frustrated, exhausted sigh, my heart sinking even as my body hummed with the connection.
He had knotted inside me claiming me as his.
"You bastard," I cursed.
"Let's stay like this for a while," he whispered against my neck, his breath fanning my damp skin.
"You did that on purpose," I scolded him, my voice a weak rasp.
"You taste too good. I couldn't resist." He kissed my neck softly, a soothing gesture after the intensity of the last hour alone.
I gave in. Every time I tried to shift, the sensation only intensified, so I stayed still, locked to him in the dim light of the rut room. As the fire in our blood finally began to cool, we drifted into a carefree, heavy slumber, two predators finally at peace in the heart of a cage.