The cold weight of Damien's ring in Alec's palm chilled more than the stone walls around them. Alec studied it under the flickering lantern light, jaw clenched, eyes sharp. The gold was unmistakable Damien's royal seal etched perfectly into it. And yet, Damien swore he never removed it.
Damien's voice was barely audible. "I never take it off. Never."
Alec stood slowly. "Then someone else did. Someone was in here. With you. With us."
Damien backed away instinctively, eyes darting across the small, stone-walled chamber. The safehouse beneath the stables had no windows, no doors beyond the one Alec had locked himself. They had barely spent one night there. How had someone gotten in?
"This place was a secret," Damien whispered. "How could anyone know?"
Alec's expression hardened. "They know everything."
He moved swiftly to the entrance, checking the bolt, inspecting the hinges, scanning the hidden crevices around the walls. Everything was intact. No signs of forced entry. No footprints on the dust-lined floor. Still, the ring hadn't moved itself.
Damien sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, clutching a blanket to his chest. His skin was pale, his hands trembling. The intimacy of the night before, the vulnerability they'd both exposed, now felt like a weakness. A door left wide open.
"You think it's someone in the palace?" Damien asked quietly.
Alec didn't answer immediately. He looked back at Damien, noting the worry in his posture. Then he knelt in front of him, eyes level, tone low and serious.
"I don't know who yet. But they're playing a game. One where fear is the first move."
Damien's lips parted, but no words came. Alec reached up and touched his cheek, firm and grounding. "No one touches you unless I allow it. Not here. Not ever."
Damien's breath hitched, his gaze flickering to Alec's mouth, then back to his eyes. A slow, building tension pulsed between them not just fear, but need. The kind that made his fingers twitch, his stomach twist.
"What if they want to expose us?" Damien asked.
Alec leaned in, their foreheads nearly touching. "Then let them try. They won't live long enough to enjoy it."
His words sent a shiver through Damien's spine. This wasn't just about protection anymore. Alec was spiraling deeper into something darker possessive, dangerous, and overwhelming. Damien wasn't sure if it scared him or thrilled him.
Alec stood suddenly and began pacing. "Someone placed that ring on our bed to send a message. Not to kill you. Not yet. Just to show they could."
"Then they're watching," Damien murmured. "They've always been watching."
Alec turned. "And listening. Which is why from now on, we speak only in person. No written notes. No whispers unless it's in the dark."
Damien nodded, but his eyes were distant, locked on the ring Alec had left on the nightstand. The symbol of his royalty his identity turned into a taunt.
The silence between them stretched, until Alec came back to him. This time slower, more deliberate. He stood over Damien, gaze narrowed.
"Take off your shirt."
Damien blinked. "What?"
"I want to see you. All of you. Right now."
There was no trace of softness in Alec's voice. It wasn't a request. It was a command wrapped in velvet steel. Damien hesitated for only a second before obeying, fingers unbuttoning the linen slowly, his chest rising with shallow breaths.
Alec's gaze devoured every inch of skin revealed possessive, fierce, reverent. Then he leaned in, one hand gripping Damien's jaw, not cruelly, but firmly.
"When I touch you next," Alec whispered, "you'll know who you belong to."
Damien swallowed hard. "Then do it. Now."
Alec stepped back, his restraint crackling in the air. "Not yet. I want you to ache for it. To beg for it."
Damien's lips parted, and Alec caught his chin again.
"But when the time comes, you will call me what I am. Not Alec. Not Commander."
Damien whispered, voice trembling, "Then what do I call you?"
A slow smirk crept onto Alec's lips. "You already know."
The tension snapped like a live wire. Damien pulled him forward, but Alec didn't budge.
"Patience," he murmured, dragging a finger across Damien's collarbone. "You want pain or pleasure first? Or both?"
Damien's pupils were blown wide, his voice hoarse. "Both. I want it all."
Alec nodded once, dark eyes glittering. "Good. Then you'll get it. But on my terms."
Just then, a distant clang echoed above them. The faint sound of a latch.
They both froze.
Alec grabbed his blade. "Stay here."
Damien gripped his wrist. "Don't leave me. Not now."
Alec looked him dead in the eyes. "I'm not leaving. I'm hunting."
As he disappeared into the shadows beyond the chamber, Damien was left alone, shirtless and trembling, not from cold—but anticipation.
And above them, the watcher waited.
Alec descended the staircase like a storm, his boots heavy against the stone floor. The noise had come from the servant's corridor, but the guards reported nothing out of place. Still, his instincts whispered that something was wrong. He stayed alert, listening for the faintest sound, scanning the shadows, but the palace was quiet.
He returned to the private chamber where Damien waited, the thick oak door shutting with a soft click behind him. The lantern flickered, casting molten gold across Damien's bare chest as he sat on the edge of the bed—shirtless, bound at the wrists with the silk tie Alec had fastened earlier. His breathing was shallow, lips parted, pupils dilated.
Alec's jaw clenched, not from anger but from restraint. He stood for a beat, drinking in the sight: Damien's flushed skin, the light sheen of sweat at his collarbone, the slight arch of his back.
"You didn't move," Alec said, voice husky.
"I wanted to," Damien replied, his voice breathy, "but you told me not to. I obeyed… Daddy."
That word sent fire through Alec's veins. He stepped forward, gloved fingers sliding under Damien's chin to tilt his face upward. "Good boy."
Damien shivered, his pulse pounding beneath Alec's touch.
Alec leaned in, brushing his lips over Damien's ear. "Now where were we…?"
He pushed Damien gently down onto the mattress, one hand braced against his chest while the other tightened the silk restraints around the bedpost. Damien's muscles tensed in anticipation. Alec's dominance wasn't cruel—it was precise, calculated, and laced with reverence.
He reached into the drawer and retrieved a soft leather strap and a blindfold. Damien gasped softly when the blindfold covered his eyes.
"Alec...."
"No words unless I ask for them," Alec commanded. "You've given me your trust. Let me show you how I'll hold it."
He trailed his fingers down Damien's torso, feather-light, tracing every contour with possessive care. Damien writhed, vulnerable and aching. Alec kissed along his stomach, then down further, taking his time, ensuring every nerve was awake and begging.
When he finally took Damien into his mouth, it was slow, deliberate an act of worship. Damien moaned helplessly, tugging at the restraints. Alec's hands gripped his thighs, firm and commanding, holding him exactly where he wanted him.
"Please," Damien choked out.
Alec looked up, dark eyes gleaming. "Please, what?"
"Touch me. All of me. Claim me."
"You're mine already," Alec murmured. "But if you want more… beg for it."
"I want more," Damien gasped. "I need it, Daddy. Make me yours."
Alec released him briefly, climbing back up the bed. He pulled Damien's face close, kissing him hard, swallowing his cries. Then he pressed their foreheads together.
"I will never let them have you," Alec whispered. "Never."
The moment hung thick with emotion, then fire again. Alec grabbed the leather strap, and with calculated gentleness, ran it over Damien's chest, across his abdomen. He didn't strike not yet. He just let Damien feel the promise of it, the tension building until Damien was nearly vibrating.
"Color?" Alec asked softly, fingers stroking Damien's cheek.
"Green," Damien gasped.
Alec smiled and pressed a kiss to his temple. "That's my brave boy."
He delivered the first tap barely more than a sting, testing. Damien groaned. Alec struck again, this time harder, across the thigh, leaving a faint red line. He leaned down and kissed the mark immediately.
Again and again touch, strike, kiss until Damien was writhing in pleasure, the line between pain and ecstasy completely blurred.
"You take it so well," Alec said. "You're so good for me."
Damien was trembling now, his lips whispering Alec's name like a prayer.
Then, just as Alec reached to undo the restraints, a soft creak came from the far wall—barely audible, but enough to make Alec freeze.
He straightened instantly. "Did you hear that?"
Damien stilled, breathless. "What?"
Alec slipped off the bed, grabbed his dagger from the bedside table, and stalked toward the sound. The fire in his body cooled into a slow, deliberate rage. He flung open the hidden door beside the wardrobe that led to the old servant's crawlspace.
Empty. Silent.
He turned back to Damien. "Stay exactly where you are. Do not move."
Damien, blindfolded and restrained, nodded. "Please come back quickly."
Alec hesitated, torn between instinct and desire—but duty won. He disappeared through the crawlspace.
Moments passed. Damien's breathing slowed. But something shifted. A breeze.....A whisper...And then… a footstep behind him.