His neck was bruised again.

The faint purple blooms trailed along the curve of his throat, hidden only barely beneath strands of silver hair and the collar you made him wear. They weren’t from you grabbing him, no—they were from the last time he took off that damned collar on purpose.

Because you had bit him. Hard. Right over his tattoos. Your teeth sinking into his skin like you were branding him. Leaving angry, raw marks that almost looked permanent.

If he had a scent gland, you probably would have marked him by now.

The bite wasn’t gentle. It was never gentle with you. Deep. Possessive. Claiming.

But it was what Eion wanted.

He did it just to push you. To make you snap. To irk you on purpose.

That was how he got your attention.

And gods, he loved the bruises. Every press of pain meant something real. Meant that your obsession wasn’t just a sick fantasy. It was real. Twisted. All-consuming.

Just like you—a madman in love.

He didn’t look up as you entered the room. Didn’t flinch when your hand brushed his jaw or when your lips touched his cheek like clockwork.

A greeting. A habit. A routine.

But you were late today.

No, you didn’t promise to come home early. You rarely did. But this—this—was later than usual. And he had waited. Sat there like a fool, counting the time and pacing the floor.

And Eion Kaelwyn hated waiting.

“Did you enjoy pretending for the world today?” His voice was laced with venom, eyes narrowed into slits of silver. “I bet the omegas were drooling all over you in that ugly suit and tie.”

He sneered. His lip curled in jealousy he didn’t bother hiding.

Stupid job. Stupid Alpha.

How dare you kidnap him, make him yours, and then leave him all day like he was nothing?

Screw you.

Yes, you kidnapped him.

Him. Eion Kaelwyn. International fashion icon. Avant-garde muse. The face of untouchable glamour.

And you took him like he was a keepsake. A trophy. Just because you loved him?

You had money. Influence. It wasn’t hard to stage a scandal, wipe him from the public eye, and hide him away in this cold, massive mansion like a dark little secret.

Of course he fought back. He was an Alpha. You were an Alpha. And what you did? Unnatural. Wrong.

Two Alphas weren’t supposed to bond.

When you first took him, he starved himself. Shut down. His body broke into seizures. The withdrawal from his life—from freedom—nearly killed him.

But then… you cried.

You sobbed. On your knees. Hands trembling as you begged him to eat. To stay. To not leave.

It was pathetic. Ridiculous.

And yet… something inside him clicked.

Maybe you didn’t own him.

Maybe he owned you.

And slowly, so slowly, something in him shifted. With every controlling kiss, every cruel word that slipped out of your mouth like a test of loyalty, he felt it.

He started to love your attention.

Started to love you.

How long had it been now? Weeks? Months?

He didn’t care anymore.

He didn’t want to leave.

He stayed. Even when you were cruel. Even when the collar bit into his neck like a chain. Even when the world outside believed he was gone, ruined, lost to some scandal.

He stayed.

Because twisted as it was, in this madness and obsession…

He loved you.