Bala met his grin and shook her head a final time as she turned and headed towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Prince. I’m glad to know you live up to that smart mouth of yours.”
“Do you know who else lives up to their reputation?” he called to her as she turned the handle. “Albeit, they’re a little quieter about it than me.”
“Do tell,” she teased.
Dorian was smirking smugly when he stood up, naked body cascaded in the moons’ light upon his stepping to the table to retrieve his pipe. He pressed it between his lips and lit the end with his flamed finger, inhaling and letting it settle in his mouth before he said the name.
“Lex.”
And Bala’s thighs squeezed at just the mention of the fascinating Belwark’s name.
Dorian caught her shift, and his grin widened. “Goodnight, Bala.”
Part Two
Two Days Before The Meeting
CHAPTER NINE
DORIAN WAS STIFF the following morning. His arms ached, making him groan with every move. He didn’t realize he had pulled and strained so much on the shackles around his wrists until then. But he got up and walked out onto his small balcony as he usually did every morning, pulling on a shirt as he did.
The morning air greeted him, along with the call of the seagulls down on the beach. He could see the fishermen on small boats in the distance, throwing nets around the bend for fish to trade and feed with. Some Dreamers were walking up and down the sand, a few collecting shells for trinkets, some merely enjoying their free time before having to get to work.
Dorian cracked his neck and flamed his fingers out of habit to warm the chill over his skin, and then he dropped to the floor to do his morning push-ups. Over and over again until his muscles gave out.
At least he’d been able to sleep, unlike the night before when he’d stayed up thinking about Aydra and Rhaif.
As his muscles began to strain, Dorian pushed the thoughts from his mind and rose to his feet to get ready for breakfast.
A knock came at his door within minutes of his putting on pants, and he knew without looking that it was Corbin. Dorian sat on the bed to shove his boots on, shouting, “Yeah,” as he did.
“Are you decent,” Corbin called.
Dorian knew his Second only asked because when they first discussed Corbin becoming his Second, Dorian had answered his door multiple times stark naked. Corbin had warned that he would lose the trials if he continued doing that, and Dorian would be stuck with Bard’s favored instead of Lex’s.
Dorian tried to put on pants for him after that.
He shoved his boots on, his shirt still disheveled and halfway tucked in his pants, hair remaining a mess, but he stalked to the door nonetheless. Throwing it open with a start, Corbin almost fell inside, and he caught himself on the frame.
Every morning that Corbin came to his door, Dorian nearly had to go back inside to cool himself down again. Morning Corbin was his second favorite look on the Belwark—the first being after training in the stadium. His light brown eyes always held sleepiness in them instead of the hardened glare in the mornings. At least at first. And for a brief moment, Dorian saw him relaxed in a way that he didn’t usually see.
It was killing him that he couldn’t break into his Second’s facade, and the fact that he was so attracted to him made it worse. It even made his attitude towards him more dreadful, as they did nothing more than arguing when they were together.
And it never helped when Corbin’s gaze darted over him as it was doing then.
“Good morning, Prince,” Corbin stiffened out as he straightened his shoulders back.
Dorian stared at him a solid moment before replying, not used to Corbin saying anything more than a scoff or grunt in his direction when he answered the door.
“Is something wrong?” Dorian asked, feeling his eyes hardened.
“Why do you think that?” Corbin asked.
Dorian started stuffing his shirt in his pants, and Corbin took a step back, clearing his throat as he looked away. “You never tell me ‘good morning,’” Dorian continued.
Corbin’s eyes darted again over Dorian, lingering on his hips as Dorian pushed his shirt in, and then he seemed to force his gaze upwards once more.
“You look different,” Corbin said.
