Chapter 67: They Were Obsessed With That Spot

Edgar didn’t answer right away. His golden eyes remained fixed on his nephew, watching the volatile Alpha burn with a dark, twisted sense of amusement. Edgar couldn’t resist. He wanted to test the limits—to see just how far Benjamin’s unhinged obsession stretched, and how much his new ’investment’ could stir the waters between them.

"Almost there," Edgar whispered softly into the side of my neck.

Before I could process his words, his lips pressed directly against the sensitive skin right over my pulse point—kissing the exact spot Benjamin had marked the day before.

I flinched, my toes curling inside my boots as an unexpected, searing wave of heat shot straight down to the pit of my stomach.

Is kissing it really part of erasing the scent?

This strange sensation was still alien to me, but the physical reaction was undeniably instant. My skin flushed scorching hot, my pulse spiking wildly—the exact same dizzying friction I had felt with the rutting Alpha, with Benjamin in the car, and now under Edgar’s touch.

"E-Edgar... wait a second," I stuttered, my voice betraying me as my breath hitched, coming out hot and shallow.

Edgar didn’t stop. He kept his golden eyes locked onto Benjamin, watching his nephew’s bloodshot purple eyes flare with pure, murderous rage. Benjamin didn’t move, his jaw clenched so tight the bone looked ready to snap, yet he remained pinned in place by sheer, agonizing restraint.

"What is it?" Edgar murmured, his canines grazing the flushed skin.

"W-Well... it feels weird," I muttered, trying to keep my composure while my body betrayed me with a sudden surge of feverish heat. His canines sank a little deeper, but not deep enough to break the skin. "Are... Are you sure this is fine?"

Benjamin’s voice cut through the air like broken glass. "Uncle, do you even know what you’re doing? Or are you actually into this kind of thing?"

Edgar let out a low, rumbling laugh, his chest vibrating against my back. "What? I got her permission." He looked down at me, his thumb lightly stroking my waist. "Right, little cat?"

"Um... yes," I answered, feeling a sudden, humiliating wave of fluster wash over my face. My skin was burning up again. I needed cold water. Immediately. I shifted on his lap, clearing my throat as I looked at Edgar. "Can I use the bathroom in your suite upstairs again?"

Edgar’s lips curved into a smooth, satisfied smirk. "Go right ahead. I’ll come up shortly and bring you the artifact."

"Alright," I muttered, quickly untangling myself from his broad frame and stepping off his lap onto my own two feet.

"Wait—what artifact?" Benjamin asked sharply, taking a step toward us, his brows pulled together in confusion.

I ignored his question entirely, my mind frantically focused on keeping the sudden, suffocating heat in check. My chest was heaving slightly, my body feeling ridiculously heavy and sensitive.

There’s no way I’m going into heat, I thought, my mind desperately trying to analyze the physical anomaly. Only awakened wolves went into rut or heat. I was a wolfless Omega. I hadn’t even re-established my spiritual bond with Silas yet. So why was my temperature spiking like this? Or was I actually getting sick?

I pushed past the thought, deciding a freezing shower was the only logical solution to reset my nervous system.

As I tried to walk past Benjamin toward the door, his hand shot out, wrapping tightly around my wrist.

I stopped in my tracks, snapping my head back to glare at him. "Let go, Benjamin."

He looked like he wanted to refute it—to pull me away right then and there—his grip on my wrist tightening for a second as his bloodshot purple eyes searched my flushed face.

"Benjamin, come here for a moment," Edgar called out smoothly from behind his desk, his low voice breaking the tension. "There’s something I want to ask you."

Benjamin opened his mouth to speak, a sharp protest clearly on his tongue, but nothing came out. He closed his mouth, his jaw clenching hard enough to pop. Slowly, reluctantly, his fingers uncurled from my wrist and he let go.

I didn’t waste a single second.

Without giving either of them another glance, I turned on my heel and slipped out of the office, heading straight for the elevator to take me to the suite on the floor above.

I didn’t care what conversation those two Alphas were about to have behind closed doors. All I cared about was getting under a stream of ice-cold water before this unexplainable, suffocating heat completely consumed me.

Inside the suite, I quickly took off my clothes and got under the shower.

Cold water splashed over my skin, instantly cutting through the suffocating, feverish heat that had taken over my body downstairs. I stood under the freezing spray until my skin turned pale and cold to the touch, forcing my heart rate back down to a steady, controlled rhythm.

Finally, I shut the water off, wringing out my dark hair before stepping out onto the bathmat.

Wrapping a fresh white towel securely around my chest, I walked up to the fogged vanity mirror and wiped a circle clean with the side of my palm.

I leaned in close, inspecting my reflection. For a split second, a faint, iridescent glimmer seemed to pulse right next to my throat—a ghostly, pale glow flickering over my scent gland.

I blinked, rubbing my palm over my eyes, and looked again.

Nothing. Just smooth, pale skin.

I let out a faint, dismissive exhale. Of course I imagined it. Why on earth would there be a glow on my neck in the first place?

What was actually there, plain as day, was a dark, mottled bruise right over my pulse point—the violent, overlapping marks of three collective moments. First, Instructor Zero’s forced suction from the shed; then Benjamin’s fierce, desperate kiss in the car; and now, Edgar’s canine digging into the exact same spot just minutes ago.

I raised my hand, scratching lightly at the surface of the tender skin.

Why were all of them so obsessed with this specific spot? It was irritating, invasive, and downright annoying. To an assassin, having three different men constantly reaching for your throat—whether out of violence or some strange, territorial Alpha instinct—was an intolerable hazard.

I sighed, turning away from the mirror to grab the dry clothes resting on the counter. I needed to get dressed before Edgar arrived with that artifact.