At one in the morning, the Laughing Falcon took to the skies for another night patrol.
It claimed every inch of the surrounding ten kilometers as its territory. Even a new crow showing up would trigger a full security check.
Long flights through the dead of night, shrouded in dim mists that hung in the air like a ghostly sea.
Fireflies occasionally streaked by, only to drown in the flickering glow of neon lights.
It sensed a snake and let out a clear warning cry.
The two were nearly a kilometer apart, mere specks on parallel lines.
But the snake paid no mind. If anything, it exposed itself even more, as if issuing a challenge.
The Laughing Falcon dove in a flash, slicing through the air with lethal speed.
When it landed, its wings whipped up a gust of wind, its talons aimed straight for the snake’s vital spot beneath the head. It was ready for a counterbite.
But then it caught the scent and snapped back to its senses in an instant.
Lin Shanyan jolted awake from a sound sleep. The moment he made out the silver-gray patterns on the snake’s body, he wanted to curse.
The Ornate Forest Serpent sneezed.
Lin Shanyan: “…”
There was something oddly cute about a snake sneezing, wildly out of place.
One split-second lapse, and his claws might have already ripped the other open, gutted and devoured on the spot.
The OAC might even have to swoop in for cleanup, spinning some story to the public about Officer Meng heading overseas on a classified mission.
The Laughing Falcon perched on the balcony railing, its expression darkening as it cried out again, this time with a questioning edge.
The snake dipped its head slightly, rubbing its nose with the tip of its tail. Moments later, it flicked out its tongue.
In the next second, the snake’s body coiled up from the edge of its talons, wrapping the entire bird in its embrace.
It froze, suddenly forgetting all about escape.
The Lin Snake bound the falcon like shimmering silver ribbon, its pale red tongue flickering, its belly scales parting slightly under the strain.
Longing hit like untimely hunger pangs.
The Laughing Falcon let the coils tighten around it, its beak grazing the snake’s vitals and underbelly almost casually.
The Lin Snake seemed too starved to sense the danger, its slender form looping around its natural predator’s neck and chest, gleaming coldly in the moonlight.
It bared its fangs, eager to swallow the other whole—yet they only brushed past, like a teasing lick.
The falcon’s talons clamped down hard, pinning the long snake to the edge of the railing. Beyond it lay a sheer drop, like a cliff into the abyss.
Down on 109th Street, cars streamed through the night, long winds howling past. A fall meant certain death, shattered to pieces.
The silver snake’s eyes gleamed black and bright. Its tail tip wound around the falcon’s ankle, still scheming the perfect angle to devour its prey.
The falcon issued another warning cry, but the snake only pressed closer, its tongue brushing against the feathers.
Annoyance surged through the falcon. It was about to shake free and head home to sleep when pain lanced through its right wing. A snake fang had pierced deep, venom flooding into its bloodstream—a total violation.
The silver snake bared its fangs again, the tips glistening with fresh crimson blood.
The Laughing Falcon cried out in pain, its long wings battering the snake away. Instinct screamed to rip into the snake’s cervical vertebrae.
The venom scorched its nerves inch by inch, only to be steadily neutralized by the falcon’s natural resistance. A faint, hallucinatory dizziness followed.
Lin Shanyan had no choice but to burst into Meng Duimo’s home, burrow under the blanket, and twist back into human form.
Four perfect fang marks marred his right upper arm, still oozing dark blood.
The culprit shifted back to human shape too, licking the corner of his lips even as he apologized.
“Couldn’t hold back. My bad.”
The venomous blood was too close to the main nerves; the hallucinations kept intensifying.
Lin Shanyan could see it clearly—colors in his world dissolving and blending like water. Even the crescent moon outside the window shimmered in four hues.
Red, silver, yellow, blue.
His legs went weak. He knew he’d recover in half an hour, but his fingertips still trembled from the scrambled signals.
“Get lost. Stay away from me.”
Meng Duimo scooped him up by the waist and carried him to the bed, chaos still swirling in his eyes.
This wasn’t the time for talking.
The blood scent and stinging pain had ignited their killing urges to the max. Turning human was just to keep from doing something even more extreme.
But their animal instincts were overriding reason.
Rip the other apart.
Tear open the throat, expose the flesh and blood, sink teeth into the frantic struggle—
The instant Meng Duimo stood to leave, Lin Shanyan yanked his wrist and bit down hard, venting.
The man endured it with a furrowed brow. Seeing no broken skin from the canines, he asked, “Want me to grab a knife?”
Lin Shanyan just clung tight, half-lucid, half-lost, refusing to let go.
Undone thoughts screamed in his head.
Devour him.
Devour Meng Duimo.
Screw love and laws. Worst case, spend life locked up by the OAC—
Just devour him.
Meng Duimo noticed the sweat pouring off him, from forehead to neck in a slick sheen. Ignoring the drilling pain, he reached out to touch Lin Shanyan’s forehead.
How could this be? Even biting his palm before had never…
“You’ve gotten venomous,” Lin Shanyan rasped. “You bastard…”
Meng Duimo had lost control of his instincts for a brief moment too. Now he fetched an ice pillow to help ease Lin Shanyan’s fevered temperature.
He shouldn’t have bitten so close to the heart.
They hadn’t touched each other in so long that Meng Duimo had deliberately exposed himself, all to lure the other man over.
Twelve minutes later, Lin Shanyan came back to himself, too drained to even fly home.
He finally remembered that he’d been sleeping in the man’s arms this whole time. Their sweat had mingled, sticky like the height of summer.
For a few seconds, all he could feel was wave after wave of despair.
That despair stemmed from how utterly relaxed he felt in Meng Duimo’s embrace.
It was like a falcon returning to its original warm nest—so secure that he could drift off into a deep, peaceful sleep the moment he closed his eyes.
He wasn’t sure if his emotions still clung to their old obsession with Meng Duimo. But his body did. His instincts did. Even that most buried sense of trust did.
He craved contact with the man, from the pads of his fingers to the breadth of his chest. Even with their sweat weaving together in irritating heat, he never wanted to pull away.
Yet it was the same person—this man, the nexus of all his desires.
They both had to shoulder that feral, predatory urge pushed to its extreme.
Laughing Falcons ate almost nothing but snakes.
Their method with serpents was always the same: snap the cervical vertebrae and swallow them whole.
For something bulkier, like a Lin Snake, they would use their long beak to rip open the belly and devour every scrap of tender flesh.
Killing him would be just as easy for Meng Duimo.
All it would take was a tightening grip to lock him in place and steal away every last breath.
Lin Shanyan teetered on the brink between paradise and perdition, torn between laughter and tears.
The instant Meng Duimo’s bite tore through his wing, the agony had wrenched a scream from him—but so had the exact same sense of release that gripped the other man.
They had held back for far too long. Better to go mad and be done with it.
Now he lay on Meng Duimo’s bed, arm draped over his eyes, refusing to contemplate the mess five minutes from now—or what to do with his tangled fate after tonight.
The man’s chin rested against his neck. After a long silence, he murmured, “If you’re still not feeling well, I’ll go with you to OAC to see a doctor.”
“No need.” Lin Shanyan buried his face in the sheets. “Meng Duimo, I wish I’d never met you.”
I wish you’d never hooked me.
No matter the provocation, the temptation, the show of weakness—if I’d never bitten.
Exhaustion had hollowed him out completely. In the dead of night, the perfect hour for abandon, he squandered the rare chance.
He was willing. Meng Duimo was willing. They both knew it full well.
But dawn would bring all the pain crashing back.
Better if nothing had happened. Better if they’d never been together at all.
Their romance from three years ago lay buried deep in memory, faded to a blur.
He could scarcely recall what they’d shared in those early days, or how they’d first brushed against those raw, fervent feelings.
He only knew he’d run as far as he could for a full three years.
Then one night of reunion, and every effort crumbled to dust.
“We can’t be together. You know that.” Lin Shanyan said.
“Meng Duimo, when I flew here, it was pure instinct. I wanted to kill you.”
“The spot you went for when you lost control—was it my throat? Or my heart?”
The man behind him fell silent. His arms tightened, inch by inch.
They both knew this embrace couldn’t last.
So they held on tighter, letting scents and pheromones blend into their favorite intoxicating fusion.
Lin Shanyan sank deeper into the bedding and rolled over with some effort. In the darkness, he met Meng Duimo’s eyes.
Once more, he saw how much strangers they’d become.
The hairstyle, the features, the gaze reshaped by three years of living.
He knew nothing of Meng Duimo’s life now. And Meng Duimo knew nothing of his tastes these days—what music moved him, what men stirred his appetite.
Every soul was like the Ship of Theseus, its parts swapped out tracelessly as time wore on.
He looked away from Meng Duimo, taking in the unfamiliar bedroom, the strange painting on the wall instead.
The man spoke.
“You’re leaving, then?”
“Yeah.” Lin Shanyan said. “I can’t spend the night.”
Spend the night, slide into cohabitation, fan old flames into a mad blaze of passion—then tumble into even deeper despair.
The pain would twist him until he retched himself inside out, sleep forever elusive.
Waking sated would turn life into a gore-soaked horror film.
“Go, then.” Meng Duimo said. “Before you do… one more kiss?”
Lin Shanyan stared at him, stunned.
Then he hooked an arm around the man’s neck and kissed him hard.
Meng Duimo crushed him against his chest in response. Their lips and tongues tangled wildly once more. At the same instant, they both ached to sink teeth into the soft edge of the other’s lip—but pulled back from the peril in unison. Whether unleashing fury or begging for solace, they lost themselves in a kiss that stretched on and on.
I hate you so much. I want to love you so much. I want to draw just a little closer. I want to never see you again.
Lin Shanyan kissed him until tears clung to his eyelashes. He murmured, “We can’t kiss anymore.”
The other man swallowed the trailing edge of his words entirely. Their clothes and the bedding were all rumpled and creased.
It was like being ensnared by a serpent, like being lured into a venomous snake’s hidden lair, never to be allowed escape again.
“Enough…” Lin Shanyan panted. “That’s it. I’m leaving…”
But the man’s grip clamped down on the dip of his waist, locking so tight that even the slightest movement was impossible.
All his attention was forcibly dragged toward his breathing and that kiss, stretched to its absolute limit.
It was as if they were sinking into the deep sea together, as if they no longer had to face tomorrow.
In the instant the quilt suddenly draped over them, Lin Shanyan gazed into the other’s deep amber eyes.
Meng Duimo frowned and pressed his palm over those tear-streaked eyes.
“Close your eyes.”
“You’re not getting away tonight.”
Hate me all you want.
It doesn’t matter anymore.
None of it does.
