The warehouse air feels thick with dust and tension as I蹲下 to retrieve the metal case containing the金条. My hands tremble—not just from the exertion, but from the familiar warmth spreading through my abdomen, the first sign that my heat is approaching faster than expected. The抑制剂 I took this morning is already wearing off.

Footsteps echo behind me before I can secure the case. I whirl, gun raised, but the blow comes too fast—pain lancing through my ribs as I'm tackled to the ground. A flashlight beam blinds me, and I grunt as a young Qianyuan presses his weight against me, his scent flooding my senses—aggressive, dominant, intoxicating.

"金先生，谈谈价钱吧。" His voice is cold, businesslike, but his pheromones tell a different story—raw desire mingling with authority.

I struggle beneath him, heat accelerating under his proximity, my body betraying me with an involuntary arch of my back. Another set of footsteps approaches, slower, deliberate. My vision adjusts enough to make out the second figure approaching—and my blood runs cold.

They're identical. Same height, same build, same sharp features. But those ears... those distinctive pointed ears I used to kiss every night before bed.

"子良？子玉？" My voice cracks as recognition hits me like a physical blow.

The flashlight wavers. The Qianyuan pinning me looks up at his twin, then back at my face. Recognition dawns on both their faces simultaneously.

"母亲……" The word slips from Xing Ziliang's lips as he releases me, his eyes wide with shock and something else—something hungry that makes my breath catch. Xing Ziyu crawls closer, his earlier aggression melting into awe as he reaches out to touch my face, as if confirming I'm real.

Heat crashes over me then, sudden and overwhelming, my control shattering as I scent both my sons—grown into powerful Qianyuan men—their combined pheromones triggering my body's most primal responses. I whimper, thighs pressing together involuntarily as I feel myself growing wet for them.

Xing Ziyu's fingers brush my cheek, trailing down to my neck, and I tilt my head instinctively, exposing my scent gland. His breath catches. "You're in heat, Mother," he murmurs, voice thickening with desire.

Xing Ziliang moves closer, his own scent spiking with arousal as he takes in my condition. "We should get you somewhere safe," he says, but his hands linger on my waist, pulling me gently against him.

I'm surrounded by them—their scent, their heat, their conflicting emotions—and my body betrays me completely, arching into their touch as ten years of longing and loss and maternal love collide with an entirely new, forbidden hunger. My hands find their faces, tracing the features I thought I'd never see again, now matured into男人的面容.

The air crackles with the scent of three aroused bodies—one Kunze in heat, two Qianyuan responding to their mother's call. There's no going back from this moment.