I nodded, still catching my breath, fingers twitching with the urge to reach for him again. “Yeah,” I managed, voice hoarse. “More than alright. But—” The words stuck, thick as blood. “You know this can’t… We can’t?—”
He cut me off, a bitter laugh twisting his mouth. “I know. If your father ever found out, I’d be out on my ass before I could pack a bag—if I’m lucky.” He glanced away, jaw clenched, staring down at his own trembling hands. “If he didn’t kill me first.”
The words sat heavy between us, truth and warning all tangled up together. My throat closed, anger flaring at the thought of anyone hurting Amir, even if the threat came from the man who raised me. “I’d never let that happen,” I said, softer than I meant, conviction burning through exhaustion. “No one’s ever going to hurt you because of me. Not if I can stop it.”
He met my eyes again, softer now, sadder. “You can’t protect me from everything, Sebastian. And you shouldn’t have to. This…” He trailed off, gesturing between us, a shaky hand running through sweat-damp hair. “This was reckless. Maybe even stupid.”
“Yeah,” I said, voice catching on the edge of a laugh. “But I needed it. Needed you.”
A silence, almost fond, almost mourning. He stood, stretching out sore muscles, reaching for a white towel to wipe himself clean. His body was marked by what we’d done—red fingerprints on his hips,teeth-marks at his throat, sweat drying in the hollows of his chest. Beautiful, ruined, real.
“Go shower,” Amir said, voice all business now, slipping the mask of the professional back on with a practiced ease. “Use the shower room down the hall. Hot water will help your ribs, and you’ll want to get cleaned up before you run into anyone on the way back.”
A flicker of mischief touched his eyes, just for a second. “And if anyone asks, you were here for a routine exam and the prince is always a bit dramatic about pain.” A quick wink. “No one will question it.”
I slid off the table, legs shaky, collecting my scattered clothes. Just as I turned to leave, he caught my wrist, gentle but firm.
“One last thing,” he said, reaching for a sterile Petri dish and a pair of gloves. “Need a sample for the lab. I want to check for any sign of infection after last night’s mess at the cathedral. And…well, it’s standard after this kind of trauma.” The tiniest smile ghosted across his lips. “And yes, I know what it looks like.”
I didn’t argue. I watched as he slid a finger inside, collecting a milky strand of what we’d left inside each other, sealing it in the dish with a snap. His hands moved with all the precision of a surgeon, but there was something reverent in the way he worked—something that said this was more than just a test.
He set the sample aside, meeting my eyes one more time. “You’re good to go. Get cleaned up, and try not to do anything that gets you back in here tomorrow, alright?”
“Can’t make any promises,” I said, forcing a crooked smile. “But I’ll try.”
I started for the door, then paused, glancing back one last time. “Thank you,” I whispered.
Amir’s eyes warmed, but his voice stayed steady. “Go. Before I forget why I’m supposed to keep my distance.”
I slipped out, heart pounding, every nerve alive with the memory of what we’d done—knowing it could never happen again, and already aching for the impossibility of wanting more.
10
QUIET WATCHER
VIKTOR
The summons came through my comm at seven in the morning.
My chambers. Now. We need to discuss today's schedule.
No please. No courtesies. Just a command delivered like he had the right to order me around.
Which, technically, he did.
I stood outside his door for three seconds, composing myself. Professional distance. Clinical detachment. Just another briefing with a principal who didn't respect boundaries.
I knocked once. Heard his voice call out. “Come in.”
I opened the door.
And stopped.
Sebastian was in bed. Still. Propped up against a mountain of pillows, covers pooled around his waist. Wearing soft grey pyjama pants and a black t-shirt that clung to his frame. Hair messy from sleep. Looking deliberately casual in a way that felt calculated.
Apollo was sprawled at the foot of the bed, tail thumping once in greeting before settling back down.
Traitor.
