The "Honest" Beta Deceived Day and Night by a Twisted Obsessive - Chapter 22

When Duan Huaijing returned to his room, the drug’s effects took full hold. His surroundings blurred into a distorted haze, and the air felt as though it were being sucked out of the room. He gasped for breath, heaving like an addict in the throes of a craving.

His trembling body leaned heavily against the doorframe for support. His arms hung limp, and sweat poured from his brow, stinging his eyes like tears. Dragging his leaden legs to the bedside, he cranked the air conditioning to its lowest setting and curled into a ball on the mattress.

As a Beta, he didn’t have the heat cycles of an Omega or the ruts of an Alpha. Usually, he was too busy with work to dwell on such things; when desire did strike, he dealt with it quickly and moved on. Now, he closed his eyes in resignation, reaching down to handle it as he always had.

But this time, the drug was relentless. Just as he thought it was over, a fresh wave of heat surged through his limbs. He stayed frozen in place, face buried in the pillow to stifle his cries. Strands of hair clung to his damp skin—not in a way that looked messy, but with a fragile, broken beauty that would stir anyone’s protective instincts.

No one would ever guess that the seemingly dull and wooden Duan Huaijing had a side like this.

“Why is it happening again?” he sobbed into the pillow, his voice muffled and breaking. It felt like an endless ordeal, an overflow of sensation he couldn’t contain. I’m going to break, he thought.

Just as his mental defenses were about to snap, there was a knock at the door.

Duan Huaijing froze. Another overwhelming wave hit him, and he bit his lip hard to stay silent, praying the person outside would just leave.

But luck wasn’t on his side. Hearing a heavy thud from within, Xie Yun stopped knocking and simply pushed the door open.

The room was pitch black. Light from the hallway slithered across the floor like a venomous snake, masquerading as a savior while preparing to swallow its prey whole. It was an intrusion disguised as concern.

Duan Huaijing’s blood ran cold. For a fleeting second, the shock cleared his head. He looked up dazed at the man standing over him. Xie Yun’s expression was masked by the shadows, but Duan Huaijing could feel a burning, predatory gaze tracing his face and moving slowly downward.

Duan Huaijing followed his gaze and realized his state.

“B-Big Brother?” he stammered. Snapping out of his daze, he frantically grabbed a duvet to cover himself. “Don’t look.”

He curled into a tight cocoon, mortified. To him, this was a private, shameful struggle—made even worse by the fact that the witness was his fiancé’s brother. Even as he hid, a new surge of pleasure racked his body.

Driven to the brink of madness and terrified of losing control, he turned to Xie Yun. “If you don’t need anything, Big Brother…”

“I’ll help you,” Xie Yun interrupted. His voice was husky, thick with suppressed emotion.

Duan Huaijing was so focused on getting him to leave that he didn’t catch the shift in tone. He looked up in shock. The hallway light cut across Xie Yun’s face, making him look dangerously unpredictable.

“I’ll help you,” Xie Yun repeated.

Duan Huaijing felt like a man dying of thirst who had just been offered water, but a small voice of reason held him back. “No. we can’t,” he whispered, shaking his head. “This isn’t right.”

He was too timid to even name what “this” was, yet his refusal was clear. Xie Yun stared at him in a long, heavy silence. Just as Duan Huaijing thought he had finally left, he felt himself being pulled into a firm embrace.

“Which is more important?” Xie Yun asked, his eyes locking onto Duan Huaijing’s. “Your life, or your ‘reputation’?”

Duan Huaijing looked away, his voice small. “It’s not about reputation.”

He knew Xie Yun wouldn’t understand. Just because his fiancé, Xie Ming, was a playboy didn’t mean Duan Huaijing wanted to abandon his own principles. He cared about his moral compass. He wasn’t a saint, but he didn’t want to use just anyone as a “cure” especially not a member of the Xie family he intended to leave behind.

Before he could find the words to explain, his phone was tossed onto the bed.

“Then call Xie Ming,” Xie Yun commanded, his tone cold and authoritative. “Let him take care of you.”

Feeling a surge of spite, Duan Huaijing wiped his eyes and dialed the number. The phone rang for what felt like an eternity. He almost hung up, but then, a voice picked up.

“Xie Young Master, this one’s got a great body just your type.”

Then came Xie Ming’s voice, dripping with disdain. “Him? Who’d like that bag of bones? There’s nothing to even grab onto.”

The background erupted in laughter. Duan Huaijing’s hand trembled. “Xie Ming, the drug. I need.”

“What do you want me to do about it?” Xie Ming snapped, clearly distracted by someone in his arms. “I’m not a doctor. You’re the one who tried to use that trick on me; I just gave it back. Don’t come crying to me.”

The line went dead. Duan Huaijing’s arm dropped. The heat returned ten-fold, fueled by the sting of rejection. He curled up like a hedgehog, biting his own sleeve to keep from screaming.

Then, he smelled it. A faint scent of cedarwood pheromones.

Beta or not, the drug made him crave that scent with a primal intensity. He subconsciously moved toward the source, seeking relief.

Xie Yun stood perfectly still, watching as Duan Huaijing crawled toward him like a confused, dependent kitten. Only when the younger man was close enough to touch did Xie Yun slightly release more of his pheromones.

Xie Ming’s voice echoed in Duan Huaijing’s head: “Find a piece of wood to poke yourself with.”

But Xie Ming’s words were silenced as his older brother leaned down and captured Duan Huaijing’s lips in a fierce, hungry kiss.

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