It looked so delicate on Ehlian’s wrist, almost fragile, as though it might break if he touched it. “Are you sure it does?”
Hayce gave him a quiet look. “You don’t like it?”
“No, I do. I really do.” Ehlian drew nervous lines across Hayce’s chest. “I just don’t think I fit into your world.”
“According to some, neither do I,” Hayce shrugged, unruffled. “There’ll always be people who think I’m guilty and had a hand in my father’s death. I’ll have to live with that.”
The judgemental looks must have been ten times worse in high society.
Ehlian knew Hayce had steeled himself against such scrutiny, but still, blending back into those circles after years in prison must have been a brutal task.
Not that Ehlian should care what those aristocratic pricks thought. They meant nothing. If he wanted this to work, he’d have to learn to ignore them and focus on what mattered the most.
Ehlian had once loved the feel of Hayce’s warmth wrapping around him in their cold cell, and he loved it now too, here, in this quiet room. In this moment, Hayce’s warmth was his and no one else’s.
That was the only thing that mattered.
After a moment, he cleared his throat. “And… we might never work out. We’re not in prison anymore, which, by the way, is an awful place to start a relationship.”
“Yes, very awful,” Hayce agreed, a trace of humour in his tone.
“And I might get bored of you,” Ehlian went on. “Totally bored. Full-on bored.”
Hayce scoffed quietly, apparently deeming that reaction enough of an answer.
“You really need to get over yourself,” Ehlian said flatly.
“You want boring? Go back to your soft alpha.”
Ehlian clicked his tongue. “He was nice. Respectful. Took me to the park.”
Hayce stifled a yawn.
Ehlian groaned, ignoring the quiet laugh that escaped Hayce above him.
Finally, he pressed himself closer, burying his face in the crook of Hayce’s neck. If Hayce’s plan had failed, Ehlian would have been left with that strange mixture of hate and longing, never knowing what Hayce had done to protect him. And Hayce, he would have been stuck in prison forever, alone, unable to afford love. Eventually, everyone around him, his omegas, would have left.
Hayce looped his strong arms around Ehlian, pulling him into a tighter embrace. Only then did Ehlian realise his tears had begun to fall, soaking into Hayce’s skin.
“What if,” Ehlian tried to speak through his sniffs. “You know, what if—”
“Stop thinking about what-ifs, Ehlian,” Hayce said gently. “Hmm?” He pressed a soft kiss to Ehlian’s forehead, lips lingering. “I’m here.”
Ehlian nodded, unable to speak past his sniffling. He could only hold on and cherish the moment.
Chapter 25
Ehlian was humming a silly tune under his breath as he placed his clothes beside Hayce’s in the wardrobe.
He wasn’t moving in. Not yet. But he had spent most evenings and weekends at Hayce’s, and while he loved wandering around in Hayce’s shirts in the privacy of their room, it was better to have some proper clothing on hand if they ever wanted to do anything more productive than spending all their time in bed. Like dining with Calia.
Gods,theirroom. He was already in too deep.
When the splashing of the shower stopped, Ehlian began leafing through Hayce’s suits—black, blue, green, grey—considering the best fit for today. Because apparently now it was a thing, Ehlian choosing the suit for Hayce every morning.
When moments later Hayce appeared in a black bathrobe, Ehlian decided to damn all suits. He squeezed his thighs together, trying to fight against the aching need flaring in the pit of his belly. This was a thing too. This unquenchable lust that had only intensified now that he didn’t have to control or fight against it.
“That one?” Hayce stepped to him, reaching for the grey suit Ehlian was still clenching absentmindedly.
