Chapter 29
Rami POV
The day started long before the sun rose. I'd just wrapped up a Hunter Association interrogation—some trashy, high-stress show trial meant to smear Alden credibility again. One of those PR stunts disguised as strategy. The kind where you sit under fluorescent lights while politicians in pressed suits pretend like they're smarter than you. I hadn't slept. Barely blinked.
But I took the earliest flight back to the island.
Because of him.
That was the only thought I had as I crossed through the estate gates, ditched my coat at the door, and climbed the stairs. My room was quiet, dim, still as I left it.
I collapsed into bed without even undressing. Maybe I could get two or three hours in before the day started.
Before he—
"Rami! Rami! Wake up!"
A familiar weight lands on me with zero warning. My eyes snap open to find a blur of pale gold and soft blue, and then his face—cheeks flushed with sleep, heterochromia eyes bright as summer—beams down at me.
Thieran.
Of course it's him.
And I just blinked, barely closed my eyes to sleep.
He's in a matching pajama set—a ridiculous sky-blue thing covered in cartoon birds. He's straddling me, knees on either side of my hips, bouncing like a child on a trampoline. His hair is half braided, half loose, curling behind his ears. I groan. Not from the weight.
From the fact that I'm exhausted, hard as stone, and trying not to lose what little control I have left.
"You said you'd help me pick decorations today," he chirps.
"Dad and Father want something simple but classy, and I'm not doing it alone!"
Still bouncing.
Each shift of his weight is a new kind of hell.
My hands twitch at my sides. I'm barely holding back the urge to grab his waist and still him. Or worse, pull him closer. I shut my eyes again. Maybe if I play dead, he'll stop.
"Ramiiiiii," he sings, drawing the name out like a plea.
"Fine," I rasp, cracking one eye open. He grins like the sun, triumphant, and I hate how much I love it.
"Yay!" he declares, clapping once before finally climbing off me. His bare feet pad across the carpet as he heads toward the door.
"Twenty minutes! Don't keep me waiting!"
The second the door clicks shut, I let out the breath I'd been holding.
Damn him.
I sit up slowly, pushing the covers off. The problem—my problem—is obvious. My cock is hard, straining against my boxers, painful with how long it's been ignored.
He doesn't even know what he's doing.
Or maybe he does. Maybe he knows exactly how helpless I am when it comes to him.
I head to the bathroom and lock the door behind me. The mirror above the sink shows my reflection, jaw tight, eyes dark, a mess. I turn the shower on cold.
It doesn't help.
Steam fogs the mirror, clings to my skin. I close my eyes and wrap my hand around myself, letting my mind betray me.
I think of him. I always think of him.
His smile. The way he pouts when he doesn't get his way. The tilt of his head when he looks up at me like I hung the stars.
The worst part? We've never kissed. Not once. And still, I dream about it. About how his mouth would taste. How soft he'd feel pressed up against me. How he'd fall apart if I let myself touch him the way I want to.
I bite down on a groan.
It's pathetic.
He deserves someone better. Someone untainted. Someone who isn't hiding a secret addiction and enough emotional baggage to drown in.
But even knowing that, I want him. And I'm not letting go.
And he's right there.
Every day.
In my room. In my arms. In my damn head.
I finish quickly, grip the edge of the sink, and let the cold water rinse away the heat. My chest still feels tight. Guilt coils in my stomach like a second skin.
By the time I step out of the bathroom, towel around my waist, the room is empty and quiet again. I dress slowly. Black slacks. A soft gray shirt. I leave the top buttons undone. He likes it that way.
I catch myself in the mirror once more. I look normal. Controlled. The illusion is perfect.
But inside, I'm unraveling.
Thieran is my weakness. My sanctuary. My punishment. And every day I pretend to be unaffected, I fall harder.
Maybe one day we'll cross that line
But not today.