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Summary
Max was an Alpha, and not just any Alpha—he was top-tier. Unlike other Alphas who struggled through their ruts, Max never had to take days off to wait for the fever to pass. He was a man of cold composure, and he had always been that way.
But not this time.
For the first time, Max had to request a leave of absence, though he wasn't sure for how many days. He locked himself in his room, struggling with the burning fever of this rut. His throat was parched, and his mind screamed incessantly for a scent—a sweet, addictive vanilla fragrance.