Next time he looked back at Hayce, he was already in clean underwear and pulling a crisp suit from the wardrobe. That could only mean one thing: he had a visitor. The prison allowed inmates to dress up for family members or any acquaintances.
Ehlian watched with slow blinks as the suit slid onto Hayce’s body, one piece after the next. When Hayce turned around, Ehlian nearly lost his breath. He looked…fuck. The suit hugged every line of him, elegant and intoxicatingly perfect. He was stunning.
“Speak your mind,” Hayce’s voice cut through the silence.
Only then did Ehlian realise he was staring. Flushed, he looked away, praying he hadn’t projected any of that through the pack bond.
He cleared his throat, trying to steady himself. “Where’s Grasson?”
“In solitary.”
“For how long?”
“A month,” Hayce said curtly. “Why are you so focused on him?”
Ehlian’s eyes caught on the collar of the jacket. It sat slightly askew, a small imperfection ruining the otherwise immaculate appearance. He had to beat back the urge to walk over and straighten it… or fasten the top buttons of his shirt, where the tight, smooth skin at the curve of Hayce’s neck lay exposed. Skin he could sink his teeth into—
“Ehlian?”
He blinked up at him slowly. “Hm?”
“Why are you still focused on him?” Hayce asked, eyes darkening with something unreadable. “You belong to my pack.”
Ehlian’s heart skipped a beat. It sounded like a declaration—Ehlian was untouchable.
“It’s still a relief he’s not around,” Ehlian said after a moment, his eyes dropping to the suit again. “Are you expecting a visitor?”
“Maybe,” Hayce answered curtly.
It was clear he didn’t want to share anything, so Ehlian didn’t push it. “I’ll wait for you here until you return.” Realising how that sounded, he added quickly, “I mean—”
“I know what you meant,” Hayce cut in. “And you can leave the cell. Aric will look out for you.”
“Right,” Ehlian said, eyes dragging over Hayce’s frame again. The suit was tailored so precisely, so flawlessly elegant against the line of his body it would have made Ehlian’s knees buckle if he’d been standing. It had to be for special occasions. Special occasions designed to drive Ehlian utterly mad—
“Anything else you want to tell me?” Hayce asked, voice tight.
Face burning, Ehlian looked away. “Nothing else.”
“Nothing,” Hayce echoed, mocking now.
“Yeah.” Ehlian gestured awkwardly at his own throat. “Just your collar.”
He watched quietly as Hayce set it straight, the thin skin of his bond point sitting just above the edge. No one liked having theirs irritated. Ehlian always bought the softest shirts and jumpers to avoid putting pressure on it. But he couldn’t have afforded a tenth of what that suit must have cost, he thought, tracing the clean line of fabric down Hayce’s chest and torso. A sudden image flashed through his mind—Hayce still wearing it, only his fly undone, while Ehlian lay bare on the bed, legs spread in silent invitation.
He swallowed, his gaze drifting lower until it caught on the shadowed outline between Hayce’s legs.
Ehlian wet his lips.
Something spiked in the air, Hayce’s power hitting him in a sudden wave. There was no emotion in it, like everything had been shut off. No, it was pure power, and fuck, it burned, hot and deep.
It sent the omega inside Ehlian spiralling, and he shifted on the bed awkwardly, trying to hide the sudden heat blooming in the pit of his stomach.
Hayce didn’t miss the movement, and gods, it only made his gaze grow darker.
“Stop it,” Ehlian warned, voice rough.
Hayce’s power withdrew in an instant, the air falling still. “Ishould stop it?”
