Love Me Like A Sin: 005

Three days later, Ilya returns to work at the D’Avorin mansion wearing a black turtle neck tucked into a pair of pants but with a new mission in mind. 

The new plan is simple; get Valen D’Avorin out of his way and break free from this cursed bond. 

His jaw clenches as he walks down the long hall, irritation clawing under his skin as his own skin doesn't feel like his own anymore. The mark on his neck and the turtle neck shirt; everything feels out of place and fucking wrong. 

Even the mere thought of the bond claws at Ilya' skin, filling him with disgust. He can't believe he lost control and his fate just had to be so rotten that no one else found him in that pathetic state other than that son of a bitch.

“If you clench your jaw further, there could really be a crack,”

Ilya comes to a stop abruptly as he rounds the corner, coming face to face with Serik, a Beta who has made himself worthy to be among the syndicate’s Alpha Soldiers. To the rest of the world, betas are the neutral ones between Alphas and Omegas with bland scents and weak pheromones but in the Crimson Circle and the D’Avorin mansion, Betas are mere drivers and servants except Serik while Omegas are whores, Ilya chose to be neither. 

“Serik,” Ilya forces his face to return to its usual expressionless one.

Serik smiles with a tilt of his head. “I heard you left mid way through the mission. You have never done that before. Did something happen?”

Ilya nods. A lot of things happened; his life got ruined over night. “I had a rut,”

“A rut?” Serik repeats, lifting a questioning brow.

Ilya shrugs, keeping his shoulders relaxed even though his back feels stiff. He feels like if he shakes, the whole world will discover his secret “Bad timing,” comes his reply.

Serik nods in understanding. “Yeah, it was. I heard you kinda ruined Valen's plans," he says, then he rolls his eyes. "I don't think whatever plan he had was gonna come through,” Serik scoffs lightly. “I mean, he cares about nothing but wetting his dick,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You didn’t miss much.”

Ilya gives a flat look but suddenly, there's a sudden sensation from his neck, coming from the mate mark. His hand itches to touch but he stops himself. Ilya curses under his breath. He needs to get out of here. He looks back at Serik. “I will see you around,” 

He doesn't wait for a response as he immediately starts to leave, hurrying down the hall till he comes face to face with the last person he wishes to see on Earth. 

Instantly, Ilya' eyes darken. Now he knows why his mark is tingling, his so-called mate is close. Shocking, how he isn't buried in some piles of naked bodies this time.

Valen’s green eyes roam all over his body before a mischievous smirk stretches on his lips. 

“You look well,” Valen says lightly, eyes flicking to Ilya’ covered neck. He shoves his hands into his pocket and tilts his head. “Three days off suits you, though, I didn't think you’d return,”

Ilya’ hands clenches so tight on his side till his knuckles turn white, his jaw clenches strongly while his amber eyes drills a hole through Valen’s face. “What do you want?”

Valen smirks, taking a step closer, towering over Ilya with his taller height and larger body and painfully, Ilya inhales a trace of his scent, and every instinct in his body screams. 

One part of him screams fight, urges him to draw out his gun and end this now while the other part, traitorous and unwanted, pulls toward the alpha standing in front of him. Fuck his life.

Valen smirks again, cocky and arrogant as if he hears Ilya' thoughts. “Relax,” he says softly. “You look like you’re about to attack me in my own hallway.”

Ilya scoffs. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Valen chuckles. “Feisty, I like that. If you want to know what I want, follow me, pretty soldier,” 

The cocky bastard doesn't give Ilya the chance to protest because he's already leaving and Ilya is left there, rethinking all his life decisions.

He could have just killed him at the hotel when he had the chance.

~

Ilya follows Valen to his bedroom. The alpha makes himself comfortable on the sofa in the middle of the room and pours himself a glass of wine with his leg crossed like everyone and everything is at the palm of his hand.

“Tell me, pretty boy, how did you convince my father and everyone else that you're an alpha? You don't even look like one, especially with that waist of you,” his lips curl into a cunning smile as he lifts the glass and swirls the wine. “Do you know what happens to an Omega pretending to be an Alpha in a crime syndicate?”

Ilya knows. He knew his fate before he masked his scent and chose to become an alpha in his enemy's home. He knew he would be dead if anyone found out his secret, that's why he perfected being an alpha, he showed no emotion and took the strongest suppressants to conceal his Omega nature. He sacrificed years and endured pain only to be discovered now that he's so close to achieving his goals.

If looks could kill, Valen would be dead from Ilya' deadly eyes. “What do you want?”

Valen scoffs. “I don't think you can offer me anything, pretty soldier. I already have everything that I want,” he smirks, leaning on the seat and finally taking a sip of his wine.

“If you haven't killed or ratted me out to the Don, then I believe you want something from me,” 

Valen’s smile widens, slow and taunting, like a predator amused by his trapped prey. “Smart,” he says. “Very smart.”

Slowly, he rises from his seat after setting the glass down and suddenly, the room feels too small for the both of them.

Valen gets closer. “You’re right,” then he circles Ilya. “If I wanted you dead, you’d already be bleeding on my floor. And if I wanted to expose you—” he clicks his tongue softly, “—my father would’ve had you torn apart by now.”

Ilya tries hard not to move. The alpha's presence behind him is too heavy, his scent is suddenly intoxicating, his pheromones are making Ilya' knees buckle and he's feeling things through the mate mark. Ilya hates this. “Then get to the point.”

Valen closes the little space from behind, pressing their bodies together. “What I want…” he murmurs near his ear, then his hands travel from Ilya’s shoulder to his slender waist, giving it a firm squeeze that makes Ilya jerk. “…is your body,” 

Ilya’s breath hitches.