Neuvillette sat at his polished office desk, the dim light from the lamps casting shadows on his furrowed brow. His fingers tapped his pen rhythmically, though his mind was far from focused. His knee bounced rapidly, a nervous energy building up inside him. With a deep sigh, he pressed a slender finger to his temple, trying to steady his breathing, but it did little to calm the storm swirling within him.

Beads of sweat trickled down his face, and his normally composed features were now flushed with an unnatural warmth. His sharp, predatory fangs dug into his lower lip, the tension causing the muscles in his jaw to clench. His lavender eyes, usually calm and calculating, now flickered with an intense, almost frantic light, betraying the inner chaos he struggled to control.

His horns, once elegantly curved, stiffened at the base of his skull, a telltale sign of his mounting discomfort. The tip of his tail twitched and then fully emerged, swaying uneasily behind him. The sudden emergence of his tail seemed to signify just how much control he was losing.

Neuvillette’s breath came in shallow gasps as he growled again, his voice strained with frustration and a sharp edge of agony. “This is so unbearable…” he muttered under his breath, barely able to restrain the raw instinct that surged through him.

He was in the midst of his rut, and everything about his body screamed for release. Yet, he couldn’t escape the suffocating confines of his office, nor could he escape the overwhelming pressure building within him. The battle between his mind and his instincts was a silent war, one he feared he might lose if he didn’t find control soon.