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“Same protocols. No need to take the day off, just meet me back at housing to let me in, and you are free to come back in to finish handling things here. And Leo?” Dante paused, projecting the kind of corporate sincerity that encouraged oversharing. “I appreciate your trust in me and the discretion. This kind of inter-corporate cooperation demonstrates the value of professional collaboration.”

Leo answered the door looking marginally more composed than he had that morning, though the improvement was purely cosmetic. The stress lines around his eyes suggested he spent his lunch hour calculating career survival odds.

“Dante. Perfect timing. He’s been... challenging today.”

Challenging. How wonderfullyvague.

“In what way?”

“Difficult. More than usual. Everything’s an argument, every conversation becomes a confrontation.” Leo gestured helplessly toward the locked door. “Which is strange, because last night he was almost manageable. When I got back from the facility, he wasn’t actively trying to start fights. I thought maybe your intervention was taking effect.”

Oh, it took effect. Just not in the way you’re imagining.

“But today he’s returned to hostile behavior?”

“Worse than hostile. It’s like he’s specifically looking for ways to be difficult.” Leo ran his hands through his hair with the frazzled energy of someone whose last nerve had been thoroughly tested. “I don’t know if it’s pre-heat symptoms or if he’s somehow figured out about Morrison’s timeline, but something’s wrong.”

Something’s definitely right. He’s thinking about last night, probably fighting his body’s responses, and taking it out on the most convenient target.

“Psychological pressure can manifest as increased resistance,” Dante said, which was technically true. “Sometimes opposition indicates that the subject is processing complex emotional changes.”

“Is there anything we can do to manage it? Any way to... accelerate the conditioning without compromising effectiveness?”

Several ways. Most of them involving my hands and his complete surrender.

“I’ll assess his current state and determine what interventions might be appropriate,” Dante replied.

“He’ll look like he’s in heat, but he’s not. This is just really bad because of his resistance patterns, but he’s still reasonable, so you may be able to get through to him.” Leo’s voice carried desperate hope. “If there’s anything—anything at all—that might help speed up the process, I’m open to suggestions.”

Leo led him through the apartment with nervous energy, and when he unlocked Orion’s door, Dante immediately understood what he meant about challenging behavior.

Orion was sitting on his bed, shirtless and sweating despite the apartment’s climate control. His hair was damp, sticking to the back of his neck, and everything about his posture radiated hostility. The moment Leo and Dante appeared in the doorway, he turned his back to them with deliberate dismissal.

“Fuck off,” he said without looking over his shoulder. “Both of you. Just fuck off.”

No wonder Leo looked frazzled. By any other metrics, Orion appeared and smelled like an Omega in an intense heat that would break at least one Gensyn scent scrubber by proximity alone.

“See what I mean?” Leo whispered, clearly intimidated by the naked aggression radiating from the small room. “He’s been like this all morning. Won’t eat, won’t talk, just tells me to—well, you heard.”

When those amber eyes fixed on Dante over Orion’s shoulder, they carried none of yesterday’s conflicted curiosity. Only raw anger and something that looked like barely leashed violence.

This should be interesting.

“Good afternoon, Orion,” Dante said, keeping his voice professionally neutral. “How are you feeling today?”

“Like shit. Thanks for asking.” Orion’s voice was sharp. “Now get out.”

There’s the fight I was expecting.

“I understand biological changes can cause discomfort,” Dante replied smoothly. “Are you experiencing any specific symptoms we should be concerned about?”

Orion whipped around to face them, his expression livid. “Concerned? You want to know what I’m concerned about? I’m concerned about being locked in a fucking cage while you two discuss the best ways to break me like I’m not even here.”

The words came out harsh, almost snarling, and Dante could see the effort it was taking Orion to form coherent sentences through whatever his body was putting him through.

Leo shifted behind him. “See? Everything’s a confrontation. Everything’s an argument.”

“It’s a normal response to biological stress,” Dante said, which was true enough. “Sometimes physical discomfort manifests as increased hostility.”