Content Warning

This chapter contains non-graphic physical violence, intense emotional confrontation, psychological manipulation, and references to past relationships marked by control. Reader discretion is advised.

Sebastian’s body went rigid under Noah’s gaze. His eyes shone with a dangerous intensity, as if he were fighting something he could barely contain.

Noah didn’t know —nor could he imagine— what instincts he had awakened in him, but he could feel them vibrating in the air, dense, unstable, on the verge of breaking.

“Why do you refuse so fiercely to be mine?” Sebastian hissed, his tone almost desperate, fractured by something deeper than rage. “Why do you force me to come to this?”

Noah held his gaze without backing away.

“Because no matter how much you hate me now,” he replied firmly, “and no matter how much I know you loved me in the past… I am not an object. I am not something you can shape, control, or claim when it suits you.”

The words struck harder than any punch.

In response, Sebastian lunged forward violently, unable to accept what he already knew. His pride wouldn’t allow him to stop. He shoved Noah hard against the wall, pinning him, his body pressing into Noah’s as if he wanted to erase any distance between them.

“Stop!” Noah pleaded once again. “Sebastian, enough.”

But Sebastian growled, low and animalistic, his gaze fixed with a sick obsession. His teeth clenched tightly as he struggled with himself. His left hand slid dangerously to Noah’s hip, gripping it hard. His right hand moved to his neck, squeezing slightly.

“NO!” he spat. “I won’t stop until you understand. Until you feel what I felt all those years.”

Noah felt no doubt. Not this time.

“I will never be… your need,” he said. “Never. And I won’t stop fighting.”

The memory of training with Nicholas crossed his mind like an anchor. Control. Breathing. The exact moment to react.

And Noah reacted.

His fist struck Sebastian’s face with force, sending him to the ground.

“You weren’t like this!” Noah said, stepping back and taking a defensive stance. “You weren’t this.”

Sebastian’s eyes flew open in shock, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. He wiped his lip and struggled to his feet, his voice turning guttural.

“You made me this way.”

“No!” Noah shot back. “I didn’t turn you into a… madman. I hurt you, yes, and I admit that. But you chose not to heal. You chose control and violence.”

Sebastian threw himself at him, grabbing him by the shoulders and slamming him to the floor brutally.

“SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!” he roared, shaking him in fury.

Noah absorbed the impact and responded immediately. One blow, then another. He broke free and rolled away before pushing himself back up.

Sebastian growled in pain, but smiled with something close to delirium.

“Do you think hitting me is going to stop me?”

His breathing was erratic, heavy, as if he were standing at the edge of the abyss… or reveling in it.

The punch to Noah’s abdomen was hard and sharp. The air left his lungs in an instant. Even so, he remembered the last techniques Nicholas had taught him. Don’t panic. Wait. Counterattack.

A blow to the face, another to the chest. And finally, Noah grabbed him by the shirt and threw him to the ground.

Sebastian fell onto his back violently. The impact nearly knocked him unconscious, but he forced himself to stay awake. His body burned, adrenaline barely keeping him upright. Even so, he tried to get up again, determined to smash Noah against the wall.

Noah was faster. He caught his wrist, turned his body, and immobilized him, pressing his forearm against Sebastian’s neck with just enough force to stop him without destroying him.

“Enough!” Noah said firmly, without trembling. “I will never be yours. I once loved you… and I wish circumstances had been different. But you have to let me go. Now!”

And then, something settled inside him. The memories returned.

Noah felt as if he had stepped back in time, to his high school years —the confession in the schoolyard, Sebastian’s feelings, his cruel rejection days later, all driven by the fear he felt toward his father.

Everything came rushing back.

Noah slowly loosened the pressure and stepped away. Before leaving, he leaned down and rested his forehead against Sebastian’s. Exactly like that time, at thirteen years old, after receiving his first kiss.

Sebastian looked at him, stunned, and understood everything.

He remembered that Noah had been his first —and in a twisted way, his only love. That they had been together. That they had tried, but it hadn’t been enough.

The pain stabbed into his chest like a knife.

“You can’t always run away,” Sebastian murmured, his voice broken, finally defeated. “But remember this… once, I truly loved you.”

Noah stepped back without answering, looking at him with a trace of pity, and thus, their encounter came to an end.