Chapter 6

Yuri’s grip tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened, but he forced himself to remain calm. He could not afford to give Cherriot another opening.

“A prominent hotel with heavy foot traffic is safest. With that many witnesses, no one will risk stabbing you in the lobby.”

“Do you prefer a soft mattress or a firm one? I like a firm mattress.” Cherriot settled deeper into the seat. “Sometimes, if I lose control of my strength, the person underneath me has trouble keeping their waist up.”

Yuri stared straight ahead and adopted a different strategy. He turned the radio up and fixed his thoughts on a well-known hotel near Thierry, one he had passed several times before.

“Yuri, the radio is too loud. I can’t hear you.” Cherriot leaned in closer. “Oh, right. Can I talk to you casually now? We’ll be stuck together, so being formal feels awkward.” His voice cut through the music. Since he hadn’t fastened his seatbelt yet, the warning chime shrilled along with him in a maddening, repetitive drone.

Yuri endured the assault on his ears until he reached a red light. Then he stamped on the brake, bringing the car to a jarring halt. Unfortunately, Cherriot remained sprawled in his seat without so much as blinking.

“You drive a little roughly, don’t you?”

Yuri did not answer. He unfastened his own belt, turned, and leaned across the console into Cherriot’s space.

Cherriot, who had not stopped talking since climbing into the car, fell silent the instant Yuri breached his personal space. Yuri moved close enough for their upper bodies to nearly touch, reached across him, seized the belt, and snapped the buckle into place.

At last, the warning chime died.

After checking the lock, Yuri drew back and found Cherriot’s green eyes fixed on him in surprise. Satisfaction flickered through him at the sight of that relentless mouth finally closed, and one corner of his own lips twitched before he could suppress it.

Cherriot’s gaze dropped immediately to Yuri’s mouth.

“Shut the hell up.”

Since the client had specifically confessed to enjoying Yuri’s curses, Yuri delivered the order with glacial sincerity. Perhaps the message finally landed, because Cherriot said nothing. The light turned green at precisely the right moment.

Yuri fastened his own belt again and drove on. With Cherriot finally quiet, he lowered the radio to a tolerable volume.

By the time they reached the hotel, the night had grown late. Alexei was still collecting Cherriot’s belongings, so Yuri paid for the room in cash. He ordered Cherriot to put on the same knit beanie and mask he had worn at their first meeting, then wait in the lobby while Yuri handled the check-in. Since masks had become commonplace after the pandemic, the disguise attracted little attention.

— Did you check in?

Alexei called the moment Yuri completed the transaction.

“I used my name. Room 1201. How are things there?”

— I got in with the key Cherriot gave me. He really does live like a superstar. The place is a penthouse. It’s clear for now. No one suspicious, no signs of forced entry. I’ll keep sweeping the rooms, just in case.

“Good. Call me when you get here.”

— Got it. Is the client sitting quietly?

Yuri glanced toward the lobby. He had ordered Cherriot to wait in the lounge, but the conspicuous white beanie was nowhere in sight.

“Fuck.”

— I take that as a no.

“Sorry. I need to hang up.”

— Go find him.

Yuri ended the call and crossed the hotel lobby with a sharp, predatory stride. He scanned every person seated in the lounge, but Cherriot had vanished. Muttering curses at the grown man who had disappeared the instant Yuri looked away, he began searching the surrounding area.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, Cherriot was not difficult to find.

The tall man in the white beanie sat at the hotel bar with his back to Yuri. He was not alone. A slender man occupied the stool beside him, close enough that their arms seemed almost fused together.

Unbelievable.

Yuri stopped dead and raked a hand through his hair. Even at a distance, he could tell that Cherriot’s companion was an Omega. A hollow, disbelieving laugh pressed against Yuri’s throat. How had the idiot managed to charm someone in the few minutes Yuri had left him unattended?

The Omega made his interest plain. A small, pale hand slid over Cherriot’s solid forearm, and Cherriot accepted the touch without concern, taking the cocktail the stranger offered him.

Yuri could not stand there and watch him drink something handed over by a complete stranger. He opened his mouth to intervene, then hesitated.

He could not call Cherriot by name. Both his given name and surname were too distinctive and likely to attract attention. Yuri had gone to considerable trouble to conceal him behind a mask; shouting his name across a crowded bar would undo all of it.

Meanwhile, the fool was about to drink. He had lowered his mask and was smiling at the Omega, clearly entertained. The glass approached his lips, its sweet-looking contents already beginning to tilt.

Yuri forced himself past his hesitation.

“Cherry!”

The clipped command rang through the bar like a call meant for a dog.

The Omega pressed against Cherriot flinched and looked over his shoulder. Several other patrons turned as well. Cherriot, owner of the grotesque nickname, twisted around and searched the room in confusion until his gaze found Yuri.

A brilliant smile broke across his face.

Yuri narrowed his eyes at the excessive welcome. Cherriot had remained quiet during the drive, and Yuri had begun to hope for some degree of restraint. The look now spreading across his face filled him with dread.

“Were you looking for me, babe?”

Yuri’s bad feeling proved entirely justified.

“…What?”

The grotesque endearment struck his ears, and his brows drew together so sharply that several people nearby looked away. Had Cherriot just called him babe? A man he had known for only a few hours? An Alpha? Yuri wanted to believe Cherriot was bold but not shameless. Then he remembered how casually the man had nicknamed a stranger during their first encounter, and the possibility became horrifyingly plausible.

“Babe, don’t make such a frightening face. This gentleman said he came from America too, so I was happy to meet him. We were only talking.”

The prediction Yuri had hoped was wrong turned out to be perfectly accurate. Cherriot adjusted his mask, rose from the stool, and approached with a loose, swaying stride that looked strange on an athlete of his size. He stopped close, caught Yuri by the wrist, and smiled.

Heat seeped from Cherriot’s hand into Yuri’s skin.

When had anyone last touched him like this? Probably not since he came to Canada. The intimate contact felt so foreign that a chill ran down his spine. Yuri wanted to wrench free, but reason prevailed. He had made the mistake of using that nickname to avoid drawing attention. Starting a scene now would only make matters worse.

Better to endure a moment of revulsion than jeopardize the assignment.

Enduring it, however, did not mean he had to participate in the madness.

Yuri turned only his eyes toward Cherriot. “I’m almost certain I told you to stay in the lobby.” His voice sank to a whisper sharpened into a threat.

“I was behaving and listening to you,” Cherriot protested. “But you abandoned me for too long. My legs started aching from sitting there, so I took a little walk.”

It had been fifteen minutes at most.

At the word abandoned, Yuri’s mouth hardened. “You can’t wait ten minutes? You have less patience than a child.”

“That’s right. Since I’m such a child, Yuri needs to look after me.” Cherriot hunched his broad shoulders and bent toward Yuri’s ear. “If you aren’t going to leave me with that man, please pay for the cocktail. I still haven’t gotten my wallet from Mr. Alexei.”

A cutting reply rose in Yuri’s throat, but he decided that matching Cherriot’s pace would get them out faster. He wiped the displeasure from his face, walked back to the bar, and ignored the large shadow trailing after him.

The Omega looked bewildered. Yuri pulled forty dollars from his wallet and snapped the bills onto the bar beside the untouched cocktail.

“My companion has inconvenienced you. I’ll pay for the drink.”

“Oh. Um, then at least drink it before you go.” The Omega glanced between them. “Why don’t you sit with us?”

As though Yuri would drink something ordered by a stranger. He fixed his expression into a cold, courteous mask. “We have business elsewhere. We’ll be leaving.”

He left no space for negotiation. Turning away, Yuri seized Cherriot’s arm while the man waved cheerfully to the Omega. Cherriot let himself be dragged along, talking nonsense about how strong Yuri was.

Perhaps the entire scene was simply too far removed from Yuri’s life. By the time they escaped the bar and reached the elevators, his already pale complexion had gone ashen. Standing guard all day in subzero weather would have been less exhausting than this.

The elevator arrived, and Yuri hauled Cherriot inside. He stabbed the button for the twelfth floor, but nothing happened. As he narrowed his eyes at the panel, wondering whether it was broken, something heavy settled against his shoulder.

Yuri snapped his head around and found the sharp line of Cherriot’s nose and pale cheek inches away. His lips nearly brushed the man’s skin. Cherriot seemed to possess a natural gift for approaching from behind without the slightest respect for personal space.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Yuri, you did get the room key, didn’t you? I think you have to tap the card there before the elevator will move.”

“Give it to me,” Cherriot added, lowering his voice beside Yuri’s ear.

The sound tickled enough to make Yuri shudder. He shoved Cherriot away, pulled out the key card tucked against his chest, and slapped it against Cherriot’s sternum. He had done it because he had no desire to hand it over politely. Cherriot, however, lowered his gaze to Yuri’s palm against his chest, then slowly lifted the corners of his mouth. His eyes curved with bright amusement as he adopted a tone of exaggerated bashfulness.

“If you wanted to touch my chest, you could’ve just said so. Once we go upstairs and I shower, I’ll especially…”

Yuri had already learned that Cherriot would produce nonsense no matter the circumstances. The only sensible response was to stop him before he finished.

“Room 1201. Go up alone. I’ll wait for your luggage.”

“I asked Mr. Alexei to bring quite a lot, so he may be a while.” Cherriot reached lazily toward Yuri’s side. “You’re my bodyguard. You need to stay beside me.” With practiced ease, he tapped the card against the reader and pressed the button for the twelfth floor. This time, it lit.

Yuri watched in silence. The action was trivial, yet it stirred an odd sense of dissonance.

What was it?

The only hotels Yuri knew were old places without key-card access. Saratov was a barren frontier town with exactly one hotel in the city center, and even there, he had never gone by choice. An Omega he met during a rut had asked him to come, and Yuri had merely obliged.

He had never brought anyone home. Only Alexei had occasionally been allowed to stay. Whenever Yuri met Omegas, he paid little attention to the location. They used motels on the outskirts or private rooms in clubs. A man who lived that way had no reason to visit luxury hotels.

After leaving Saratov, crossing the border, and settling here, he had stopped seeing Omegas altogether. More than three years had passed since he last entered a place like this. Since then, he had managed his ruts with suppressants. When even the cost of medicine seemed wasteful, he locked himself away and endured.

It would be the same in the future.

The Omegas Yuri had slept with had never been respectable people. He had spent his entire life apart from ordinary society. In a world where he might be shot dead without warning, he had no desire to drag an innocent partner into danger. The only people who wanted a man like him were Omegas who bought drugs or kept bad company. They lived on the margins, as he did, and therefore did not fear men like Yuri. Only those who had already relinquished too much could accept someone like Yuri Kiselyov.

However, Vancouver was different. The people he met in this safe, comfortable city were far too ordinary. They should never become entangled with him. Besides… they would run the moment they saw his naked body.

“Yuri.”

While he was lost in thought, the elevator reached the twelfth floor. Cherriot’s voice made him blink.

The man was studying him with concern. “Are you really that tired? I called you, but you didn’t hear me.”

The pretty face tilted down to meet Yuri’s eye level, and something about the gesture unsettled him. Those clear green eyes seemed to know nothing of cruelty, and the worry inside them belonged to a world Yuri had deliberately kept at a distance.

“…Let’s get off.”

He swallowed the discomfort of standing somewhere he did not belong, beside someone he should never have known, and stepped into the corridor.

Habit took over immediately. Yuri scanned the hall, found no one, and confirmed that room 1201 stood beside the elevator. He checked behind them before approaching the door, tapped the card, and heard the lock release. Even then, he waited several seconds before turning the handle.

He entered first and searched the bathroom and closet. Both were empty.

The situation did not seem serious enough to justify such precautions, but habit was stronger than reason. Yuri had spent too many years in a world where lowering one’s guard for a single moment could prove fatal.

“Wow. Just now, you really looked like a bodyguard.”

“Isn’t that why you hired me?”

“You’re different from the bodyguards I’ve seen.” Cherriot followed him inside. “Come to think of it, are you a fixer like Mr. Alexei? You’re his colleague, so I suppose you must be.”

At last, Cherriot asked the question he should have asked before hiring them. He had entrusted his life to two men without even knowing what they did.

Then again, he had no way of discovering the truth.

“You’re asking now?” Yuri turned a cold look on him. “If you wanted to investigate our backgrounds before hiring us, you shouldn’t have come to us.”

“It’s rare for Heather to recommend anyone with that much certainty. I trusted her.”

Ah.

Cherriot had asked Heather to introduce him to a good person. Not someone discreet or dependable, but someone good. From the moment Yuri heard it, the word had felt like a thorn inside his chest, driven steadily closer to his heart. Whatever sort of goodness Cherriot imagined, it did not describe Yuri. Even Alexei, who had known him all his life, probably did not understand everything Yuri Kiselyov had done to survive.

“How do you know Heather?”

“I met her after I transferred to Vancouver. One of her friends is a sports reporter and got close to me, and she introduced us. They’re all good people. We drank together a few times and became comfortable around one another.”

Meeting someone through an introduction, then continuing to build a relationship that might expose one’s weaknesses, seemed perfectly ordinary to Cherriot. To Yuri, who kept every bond closed and guarded, the idea felt utterly foreign.

Having nothing to say, he fell silent. Small talk had never been part of his life. He was quiet even with friends he had known for years, and on an ordinary day, he could pass hours without speaking.

“Aren’t you curious about me, Yuri?”

Of course he was not. Yuri wanted Cherriot to keep his mouth shut, not tell him more. He was about to ignore the question when he remembered the bar. Better to make the warning unmistakable now.

“Don’t drink alcohol other people give you. You have no idea what might be in it.”

“I’ve never had a problem before.”

“That means you’ve been lucky.”

“If something happens, Yuri will protect me.”

“That will be difficult if you abandon your post whenever the mood takes you, as you did earlier.”

Cherriot wrinkled his nose and pouted. The expression should have looked ridiculous on such a large Alpha, yet it was surprisingly tolerable. His features were delicate enough to keep the childish gesture from appearing grotesque.

Before Cherriot could speak again, Yuri added another warning.

“And earlier…”

He could not bring himself to repeat the word babe, so he chose a more indirect route.

“Don’t use that revolting pet name again.”

“You mean babe?”

The word turned Yuri’s stomach. He grimaced. “Yes. And don’t use that strange tone with me.”

“You called me Cherry. You should tolerate at least that much.”

“Your name is too distinctive. If someone recognizes you, it will attract attention, so I had no choice. From now on, I’ll use a false name.”

“Hm.”

Cherriot made a dissatisfied sound as he crossed the room toward the bed, pulling off his beanie and mask and tossing them aside. It was impressive, in a perverse way, that an Omega had managed to flirt with him when nearly his entire face had been concealed.

“If you use a false name, I might not react right away. I’m terrible at acting, so I’m no good at staged things like that.”

“You had no trouble clinging to me and pretending we were dating. You even started speaking casually.”

“Oh, that was half sincere.”

At that point, Yuri began to wonder how little weight Cherriot’s sincerity actually carried. “For someone who claims to be sincere, you flirt with everyone. You were complimenting that Omega without hesitation.”

“That was sincere too. He was short enough to fit perfectly in my arms, and his perfume matched his pheromones. His skin smelled nice.”

“Hah.”

Yuri had spent his life among Alphas who changed partners daily, so promiscuity itself was nothing new. Usually, however, those men sought nothing beyond release. They did not shower strangers with elaborate praise or sustain long conversations.

Cherriot flirted every time he breathed, with such tireless enthusiasm that Yuri wondered whether the man ever exhausted himself. Apparently, the range of what he found attractive was extraordinarily broad.

Yuri had heard of people like that. They fell in love easily, dated eagerly, and cooled just as quickly. He would not understand such people even if he died and was born again.

“What a featherweight kind of sincerity.”

“Ahaha. I’ve heard that before.”

Though the remark was rude, Cherriot laughed it away. He stretched with a yawn, then threw his outerwear onto the bed atop the beanie. Once the jacket came off, the black T-shirt beneath displayed his build with startling clarity. Muscle stood out across his broad chest and shoulders in clean, powerful lines.

“But don’t worry,” Cherriot said. “I’m seducing you because I like you, but I’m not the type to cling to someone and beg for a relationship.”

Yuri realized he had been staring at Cherriot’s upper body and raised his gaze. Their eyes met. Cherriot smiled, his expression serene, and explained in a tone of perfect calm.

“I don’t intend to date anyone. If we suit each other, becoming people who sleep together regularly would be ideal.”

It made no sense. Seeing someone regularly already meant forming a relationship. Once sex entered it, emotion would inevitably follow.

Cherriot’s definition of sincerity was fundamentally different from Yuri’s. To Yuri, truly caring for someone was a vow. It meant putting the other person’s happiness above one’s own desire and being satisfied simply because the person one cherished could live well.

That was the love Yuri had witnessed. Vasily had loved only one woman in his life, and Yekaterina had fought to remain beside him. They had shown Yuri a love shaped like devotion.

“I’m taking my clothes off now,” Cherriot announced playfully. “Want to watch?”

He phrased it as a question, but his hands were already dragging his shirt upward. The instant Yuri glimpsed sharply defined abdominal muscles, he turned away with an awkwardness he could not explain.

The skin that flashed at the edge of his vision had been smooth and unmarked.

Yuri had accumulated scars since childhood and rarely undressed in front of anyone. Perhaps that was why Cherriot’s body felt so strange. Compared with Yuri’s own, that white, flawless skin looked unreal, almost sculpted from stone.

“I’ll wait outside.”

“Huh? You’re supposed to stay with me!”

“I’ll be in the hall. Shower, then call me.”

Yuri opened the door before Cherriot could object and stepped out. It clicked shut behind him.

For a moment, he stood motionless, his eyes squeezed shut. Exhaustion washed over him all at once. Only then did he notice the dry ache behind his eyelids and the raw pain in his stomach. As the pain intensified beneath his ribs, Yuri lifted a hand and pressed the tender area. His fingers stilled over the uneven ridge beneath his shirt. A raised white scar began along his ribs and extended down to his navel. His body bore an unsettling number of marks, many more severe than that one. Yuri traced the scar for a moment before lowering his hand and walking toward the bend at the end of the corridor. Leaning against the shadowed wall, he yearned for a cigarette. However, this was a clean city, and in such places, smoking indoors was simply not acceptable.

As on that day three years ago, when he first understood that the habits familiar to him were savage by ordinary standards, Yuri found himself confronting the same truth.

He was different from other people down to the bone.

For Yuri, words such as handsome, tender pet names, and sacred promises that should only be spoken to someone loved with one’s whole heart belonged to another world entirely.