Max is spiraling.

He can't stop thinking about his mother — her last breath, her blood on the floor. Rage burns in his chest. But then he remembers how Liam held him afterward. How Liam whispered, "You're mine now. Only mine."

And somehow... that made him feel safe.

Why?

He hates Liam. Wants to hurt him. But at the same time... he craves his touch. His attention. His approval.

Max tries to cry, but the tears won't come. They get stuck somewhere between grief and guilt. Maybe it's his fault. Maybe if he hadn't fought that boy, his mother would still be alive. Maybe Liam is right — maybe he deserves this.

His thoughts twist like a storm:I hate him.I need him.I miss her.I want him to hurt.I want him to hold me.

He starts punching the wall. Silent. Repeatedly. Not enough to break skin, just enough to make the pain real. 

Vigga walked around the corner, two books in her hands. When she saw Max, her eyes widened.

"Max?" Her voice was soft. Worried.

Max stopped hitting the wall, but he didn't look at her.

How could he?

Not after what had happened between him and Liam.

The bite mark on his chest still throbbed, barely hidden under his shirt. The collar around his neck felt tighter, like it was choking him the moment she looked at him.

"Hi," he said, his voice hoarse.

"Why are you hitting the wall?" she asked, stepping closer. He could feel her warmth. Smell her perfume — the one that used to make him blush and turn away, stealing one last breath of her scent after she passed.

But now, it just made his stomach feel heavy. Like a stone sinking deeper and deeper.

Vigga's steps were slow, cautious, like she was approaching a wounded animal. Maybe she was."Are you okay?" she asked quietly, her eyes flicking from his reddened knuckles to his face.Max let out a dry laugh. It sounded wrong, like it didn't belong to him.

"No," he said simply.

She stood there in silence for a moment. The hallway felt too quiet. The ticking of the school clock sounded louder than it should.

Vigga sat down against the wall beside him, setting her books on the floor. She didn't ask anything more. Didn't push.

Max sank down too, his back against the cold wall. His hands trembled in his lap, red and raw."I don't know what's wrong with me," he muttered.

"You're not broken, Max." He winced at her words. If only she knew.

He thought of his mother's eyes, wide and glassy as they stared at nothing. He thought of Liam's breath on his neck, the pain, the twisted care in his voice afterward. The way his heart still beat faster when Liam touched him — even when it hurt.

"I should hate him," Max whispered. Vigga turned to him, frowning. "Who?"

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter."But it did. Liam mattered. Everything Liam did mattered too much.

"I feel like I'm going crazy," Max said. "Like... part of me is grieving, and part of me wants to scream, and another part..." He shut his eyes tight, ashamed. "Another part misses him."Vigga was quiet again. But then he felt it — her hand gently covering his.

"You've been through something," she said. "You don't have to explain it all. Just... don't keep it inside, okay?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't.

Because inside, his heart was torn in three directions — bleeding for the mother he lost, aching with the anger of betrayal, and fluttering, horribly, for the monster who held his leash.

For the first time, Max looked up at her. Her gray-blue eyes sparkled — but not like before. Not in the way that sent electric shockwaves through him when the light caught them just right. They looked... softer now. Sadder. Still beautiful.

His cheeks flushed pink anyway. Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out, quiet and trembling, just enough for her to hear: "I like you."

His eyes widened instantly.His hand flew to his mouth like he could shove the words back in, bury them deep where Liam couldn't find them.

"No, no, he's going to punish me," Max thought, stomach twisting.A cold sweat broke out across his neck under the collar, which suddenly felt like it was choking him.

Vigga's eyes went wide, her cheeks blooming into a soft, rose pink. Her lips parted, surprised—but not angry.She didn't laugh.She didn't walk away.Instead, she reached out and gently touched his wrist, lowering his hand from his mouth.

Vigga's fingers wrapped gently around his wrist, lowering his hand from his mouth."Max..." she said, her voice so soft it made his chest ache. "I like you too."A spark of something warm flickered in him — like sunlight through heavy clouds.

But it faded as fast as it came, smothered by the collar's weight around his neck and the memory of Liam's voice growling in his ear.

"You're mine." Max stepped back like she'd struck him, breath hitching. "No... you don't. You can't." Vigga blinked, confusion flashing across her face. "What? But I—"

"You don't understand!" Max snapped, the words sharp with fear, not anger. "He'll know. He always knows."His voice broke.

"I can't like you. I'm not supposed to. I belong to someone else." Vigga's eyes widened. "What are you talking about? Who, Max?" Max backed away farther, his hands shaking now. He wrapped his arms around himself like he could protect what little he had left.

"My mom is gone. I have nothing," he whispered. "And he... he said he's all I have now."She took a step toward him, slow and careful. "Max, whoever is doing this to you — it's not right. You don't belong to anyone."

But Max shook his head. Liam's teeth had left marks — but so had his words. "You don't get it," he said, tears welling in his eyes. "He... he kills things that take me from him. He'll kill you too." He turned and ran before she could speak again — heart pounding, not from love, but from the ghost of Liam's fingers tightening on his throat.

Max didn't get far. He barely rounded the corner of the empty school corridor when he slammed into someone's chest. Books tumbled to the floor. Max staggered back, his eyes wide, and dread coiled in his stomach like ice water.

Jacob.

Jacob smirked down at him, pushing his thick blond hair from his eyes. "Well, well, look who's crying like a baby again."

Max tried to side-step him, but Jacob slammed an arm against the wall, blocking his way."Was that Vigga you were whining to back there?" Jacob asked, his voice mocking. "Did your little girlfriend finally realize what a freak you are?"

Max's mouth stayed shut, his fingers curling into fists. "Oh, I get it," Jacob sneered, his eyes narrowing. "You're playing the pathetic card now. That why you wear that ugly dog collar? Trying to look like someone's pet?"

Max flinched. Jacob saw it, But how? Max had been careful with hidden it under his clothes

"Oooh," he grinned. "So it means something. Did Daddy get tired of you and hand you over to someone who actually wants you?" He leaned in, breath hot and awful. "Or do you just like being owned, Maxie?"

Max's vision swam. Rage and grief surged up like a tide — and before he could stop himself, he shoved Jacob hard.

Jacob stumbled back in surprise but then laughed. "What's this? Little Max finally grew claws?"But Max wasn't listening. He couldn't.

He could only hear Liam's voice again, echoing inside him: "You fight again, and you'll regret it. Do you understand me, pet?"

He'd fought. Panic choked him. He couldn't breathe."I— I didn't mean to—" Max muttered, backing away, as if Liam would appear out of the shadows any moment.

Jacob raised a brow. "You losing it or what?" Max turned and ran again, this time not toward safety — but straight into the storm.

Straight to Liam.

Max didn't stop running until he reached the back of the school — the far corner of the empty soccer field, where the tall grass had grown wild. He dropped to his knees, clutching his head.

"Act normal." That's what Liam said.

"No one can know what you are to me, Max. Not yet."Max's breathing hitched. His fingers brushed the collar at his throat. He hated it. He needed it. He loved it.

He hated himself.He dug his nails into his scalp. "Stop it," he whispered. "Stop thinking about him. Stop thinking about Mom. Stop thinking about—"

But the images wouldn't go.

His mother's cold, bloodless face, Liam's mouth on his skin, Vigga's confused blush and Jacob's smirk.

The wall he'd hit until his knuckles bled.And the worst of all — the hollow ache in his chest. The one that begged for Liam's voice. Liam's hands. Liam's... punishment.

Max wanted to scream. Instead, he bit down on his arm hard enough to taste blood. It grounded him — barely.

A shadow moved across the field. His heart leapt — Liam?No.Just a bird.

Max pulled his knees to his chest. "I hate you," he whispered. "I hate you so much."He didn't know if he meant Liam or himself. Maybe both. 

But then again, maybe he loved him too. And maybe that made it worse.

Max sat on the sofa, his legs pulled close, arms wrapped around them. The room was quiet — painfully quiet — the kind that pressed down on him like a heavy blanket. The TV stayed off. His phone sat untouched beside him. He didn't even look at the door, though he listened for it with every breath.

He could still feel the bite on his arm — not the one from Liam, but the one he'd given himself behind the school. It throbbed gently, a reminder. Of pain. Of control. Of how little of both he had.

The collar scratched at his skin when he moved.He didn't.

Outside, a car passed.Not his.

A bird chirped, then stopped.Not him.

Max's fingers twitched. He stared at them like they didn't belong to him. Then at the faint bloodstain on his sleeve. A part of him wanted Liam to come home. To scold him. To see him. Another part wanted to vanish. Or run. Or scream. Or—

The door clicked.Max didn't look.Boots stepped inside, slow, heavy. The door shut.Silence.Then: "You didn't turn on the TV?"Liam's voice. Calm. Casual.

Max's throat closed."No," he answered, barely audible.

Footsteps. Liam walked past him like nothing was wrong — like he hadn't marked him, hadn't killed for him, hadn't made him kneel with a leash around his throat and tell him thank you.The sofa dipped slightly as Liam returned, a glass of water in hand. He handed it to Max.Max stared at it, unmoving.

"Drink," Liam said softly.He obeyed.

Water slid down his throat. Cold. Clean. But his insides still felt dirty."I heard about the fight," Liam said, finally looking at him.

Max flinched, expecting a slap, or worse.But Liam only sighed, and leaned back.

"Don't let that idiot Jacob get to you. You're mine, remember?"Max swallowed hard, the collar suddenly burning against his skin. He nodded.Liam smirked faintly. "Good boy."

Something twisted painfully inside Max. Rage. Grief. Love.He hated him.He needed him.

He wanted to sob. Instead, he said: "I bit myself today."Liam turned to look at him fully, eyes narrowing slightly.

"I wanted to feel something else," Max said, voice cracking. "Something that was mine."Silence.

Then Liam reached out, brushing a thumb across Max's arm, where the wound still wept."You don't hurt yourself," Liam murmured. "That's my job."

Liam's fingers brushed the collar, tracing the worn leather at Max's throat. Max didn't breathe. "You bit yourself," Liam repeated, voice low. "Why?" Max's lips trembled. "I—I felt like I was disappearing."

Liam's eyes darkened, not with anger — with something colder. "You don't get to disappear." His fingers tightened, not hurting, but firm. The collar stayed on.

"I put this on you to remind you who you are," Liam whispered. "Who you belong to. When the world confuses you, when your own mind lies to you, this—" he tapped the collar, "—is the truth."

Max closed his eyes, ashamed at the part of himself that found comfort in that. That wanted to nod. That liked being told who he was.

Liam leaned in, close enough to feel his breath. "If you ever touch yourself like that again, without my permission..."

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. Max nodded. "Yes, Liam."

Liam kissed his forehead — a disturbingly soft gesture — then stood. The collar stayed.

Max didn't hear Liam enter — he just felt it. The air shifted. Thickened.

Liam's steps were slow, deliberate, like a predator who already knew the outcome of the hunt. Max didn't move from the couch, but his body tensed, the bite on his arm stinging again."You bit yourself," Liam said, voice calm, but lined with something darker. He came to stand behind the sofa, looming like a shadow.

Max flinched, barely able to nod. "Show me."

He didn't want to. His stomach twisted with shame — but his body moved without his permission. Fingers curled around the sleeve of his hoodie and pulled it up, revealing the bite. Raw. Angry. Deep enough to bruise.

Liam hissed softly through his teeth, eyes flickering gold. "You forget who you belong to?"Max swallowed. "No..."

"Say it."

"I belong to you," Max whispered, his voice thin."That's right." Liam stepped around, crouching before him. "And no one — not even you — gets to damage what's mine."

He leaned in, lips brushing against the raw wound on Max's arm. Max tried to pull away — but he couldn't.

Liam's voice dropped to a murmur, power threading through each word. "Be still."

Max froze. Muscles locked. Breath caught. Like ice had wrapped around his bones.

Then pain. Sharp and deep — Liam's fangs sank into the same wound, reopening it, claiming it. Drinking.

Max gasped, but couldn't move. His heart pounded, heat rushing to his face. He didn't know if it was fear, or shame — or something worse: need.

Liam pulled back, lips stained red."You'll stop hurting yourself now," he said, licking the blood from his teeth. "Because when you need pain — you come to me."

Max stared at him, eyes wide, breathing uneven.

Liam's voice took on that unnatural weight again. "Say it."

"I'll come to you," Max whispered, and the words dug into his skin like a brand.The command held. The collar stayed.