The air in the quiet master bedroom instantly turned to ice.
The soft, golden warmth of the morning sun cutting through the heavy drapes did absolutely nothing to ease the sudden, terrifying tension that seized the space. Pinned tightly against Dahmer's chest, Malcolm completely stiffened. Every single muscle in his powerful frame locked up, turning as rigid as stone beneath the Enigma's protective hands.
His heart began to hammer violently against his ribs, a frantic, chaotic rhythm that echoed loudly in the small space between their chests. Malcolm was not ready for this. He was entirely, fundamentally unprepared to give up his darkest secret to the very man who had forced him into this cage. He was not ready to speak aloud the words that would confirm the terrifying, dark realization he had faced just hours ago—the reality that his entire identity was a lie, and that he might genuinely possess absolutely no biological attraction to women.
