Three days had passed since the incident against the oak tree.
Three days of rigid routine underground: brutal morning drills, supply inventories, weapon maintenance, and avoiding Noah's piercing gaze every time their paths crossed in the corridors.
Ty threw himself into the work with mechanical precision, but the memories refused to fade. The rough bark against his chest. Noah's fingers stretching him open. The humiliating way he had come so hard against that tree while Noah sighed in relief as his black veins calmed. The way he had punched Noah and walked away, only for him to regenerate like it was nothing.
Ty stared out the reinforced window of the armored truck as the convoy rumbled back toward the underground facility.
The surface world rolled by in a blur of ruined highways, overgrown forests, and skeletal cities. He should have felt relief at heading back — safety behind thick walls — but all he felt was a heavy, bitter disappointment.
Another chance wasted.
He had been so close to slipping away at the depot. The collapsed wall, the forest beyond… it had been right there. But Noah had caught him. Again. The man's mutated strength, his possessive hunger, and that twisted protective instinct made escape feel more impossible every day.
His eyes drifted to the reinforced van traveling in the middle of the convoy — the one carrying the three captured fleshbounds in their heavy cage. Even from this distance, he could see the reinforced bars and the way the creatures occasionally slammed against the sides.
Ty's eyes narrowed.
What the hell are you planning to do with them, Noah?
The locked bolted door back at base flashed in his mind. Whatever was behind it, those fleshbounds were headed straight for it.
The truck he rode in was crowded with other soldiers and rookies. The air smelled of sweat, gun oil, and the faint metallic tang of old blood.
Ty sat near the back, rifle between his knees, trying to tune out the low conversations around him.
A metallic clank drew his attention.
"Fuckin' thing won't open," grumbled a burly rookie a few seats away. He was twisting at a sealed metal jar he'd clearly looted from the depot — dull gray with faded military markings.
"Looks interesting though. Might be some old preserved shit. Or meds. Worth keeping."
Another soldier nearby shifted nervously.
"Put that away, idiot. Orders were clear — no personal loot. If someone sees you with that, they'll shoot you on sight. Nade doesn't tolerate thieves."
The rookie scoffed, still wrestling with the stubborn lid. "Relax. I'm not keeping it forever. Just curious." He strained harder, muscles bulging. "Come on, you piece of—"
With a sudden pop, the lid gave way.
A burst of strange, sweet-spicy scent exploded from the jar, right into Ty's face.
It was oddly floral yet musky, clinging to the air like invisible smoke.
Ty inhaled sharply before he could stop himself. The scent flooded his nose and lungs.
He coughed hard, eyes watering. A strange warmth bloomed in his chest and spread outward through his veins.
His pulse quickened. For a terrifying few seconds, he thought it might be poison — some pre-outbreak chemical weapon or mutated toxin.
Ty held his breath, waiting for the burning in his lungs to turn lethal, for his vision to blur or his muscles to seize. But nothing deadly happened.
The warmth simply settled deeper, making his skin feel overly sensitive to the rough fabric of his clothes. His heart beat a little faster. He felt… restless. Hot.
"Idiot!" Ty snapped. He lunged forward and grabbed the rookie by the back of the head, slamming his face hard into the metal side of the truck with a loud thunk.
"Be careful with that shit! You want to kill me?"
The rookie groaned, clutching his forehead. "Ow—fuck, man! It's just a jar!"
The others muttered nervously, but no one else had breathed it in since the moron exploded it right into Ty's face.
Ty sat back heavily, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. The strange warmth lingered in his body, making his thighs tense and his skin prickle.
He sighed deeply and turned back to the window, staring at the passing ruins as the convoy continued its journey.
The disappointment of another failed escape weighed on him like a ton of bricks.
The fleshbound van stayed in his peripheral vision, a constant reminder of the secrets Noah kept.
The ride back felt longer than the trip out. By the time the convoy finally descended the long underground ramp into the facility, Ty's body felt feverish.
He told himself it was just exhaustion from the mission and the constant tension.
The trucks parked in the large vehicle bay. Soldiers spilled out, shouting orders as they began unloading crates of ammunition, medical supplies, fuel drums, and the heavily chained fleshbounds.
Ty joined the effort mechanically, hauling boxes alongside the others. His muscles felt strangely warm and loose, but he pushed through.
Rafe approached him after a while, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Good work out there, Ty. That shot on the fleshbound earned you some respect. Keep it up and you might actually last around here."
He clapped a firm hand on Ty's shoulder. "Nade's been watching your progress. That's rare for a new recruit."
Ty nodded stiffly, forcing a neutral expression.
"Just doing what I can to survive."
Before Rafe could say more, Jax jogged over, green eyes lighting up when they landed on Ty.
"Rafe! Boss wants you in the command room. Something about the new specimens."
Rafe sighed. "On my way." He gave Ty one last nod and left.
Jax immediately slid into the space Rafe had left, leaning against a nearby crate with his usual cocky grin.
"Miss me, pretty boy? You looked good out there — all focused and dangerous. That lone wolf vibe really does it for me. Awoo" He stepped closer, voice dropping playfully.
"We should celebrate surviving your first run with the pride. My room's bigger than yours. I've got actual blankets."
Ty just stared at him blankly.
Did he just... howl at me?
Ty shook his head slightly. The strange warmth from the jar was getting worse. His skin felt too tight, his pulse too loud in his ears.
A low heat pooled in his stomach and lower. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the way his body was reacting.
"I'm not feeling good," Ty muttered, voice rough. "Must be the spores or whatever was in the air outside the base. I need to head back to my room."
Jax's grin faded into concern.
"You sure? You look a little flushed. Want me to walk you to the med bay?"
"No," Ty said quickly, already turning away. "I'm fine. Just need rest."
He didn't wait for a response. Ty navigated through the busy unloading area and made his way to the residential corridors, moving faster than necessary. By the time he reached his small, crappy room, his breathing was ragged. He slammed the door shut behind him and leaned against it for a moment, eyes closed.
The strange heat had intensified. His clothes felt stifling. Sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down his spine. He crossed to the tiny sink and mirror in the corner, gripping the edge of the basin as he looked at his reflection.
He looked like shit.
His brown hair was damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead. His eyes were glassy, pupils slightly dilated.
A flush burned high on his cheeks and down his neck. The bite mark Noah had left on his shoulder was still visible beneath his collar, dark and claiming.
His lips were parted as he panted softly. The warmth had spread everywhere now — a deep, insistent ache that made his cock twitch traitorously in his pants.
"What the fuck…" Ty whispered to his reflection, gripping the sink harder.
His body felt alive in a way he didn't want — overly sensitive, needy, wrong.
He splashed cold water on his face, but it did little to cool the fire building under his skin.
The jar. That strange scent.
He had no idea what it was, but it was doing something to him.
Ty sank down onto the edge of his rickety bed, staring at the bare concrete wall, trying to breathe through the growing haze.