Page 62 of Henrikk’s Secret

Another precious detail that the dragon had pushed into the faraway recesses of his mind.

“I did it to hurt you,” Henrikk said, his features stiff as the confession poured out of him. “It was the only reason I bedded Vivian. I didn’t even like her. But…I knew you would feel betrayed. I…wanted you to hurt.”

“I know,” Asher said sadly. “Except it wasn’t your doing. Dargotika forced you.”

“Yes. As time went on, I lost more of myself as she took over.”

“I know that too. I knew it then, though I did not understand the reason. But as the years passed, I saw both sides of you, and I was distraught to witness the side of you that won over. I thought I could prevent it, but…I couldn’t.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Henrikk stated reverently. Compared to him, Asher had a heart of fucking gold.

Before Asher could reply, Henrikk fast tracked time. Young Henrikk returned with a drunk and giggling woman who was wearing too much rouge on his arm.

The silhouette of Asher, who’d been reading by the lantern, lowered his book.

Young Henrikk dragged Vivian into the tent. “Vivian, let me present General Asher, my very intimate comrade,” young Henrikk said mockingly. “And look, he’s reading! Terribly bookish, I’m afraid. Pay him no mind, Vivian; he likes to be ignored. Oh, and Asher, be a good sport and turn the lantern off on your way out?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” young Asher said firmly, his voice trembling with undisguised shock and anger.

“Suit yourself. I don’t mind an audience.”

Asher grew agitated beside him, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other.

Henrikk hurriedly skipped forward to when Vivian left the tent, stumbling through the dark and heading in the wrong direction.

“Right gentleman, you were, for not escorting her home.” Asher said dryly.

Henrikk nearly shrugged out of habit. Instead, he pressed his lips together and frowned. There was nothing he could say to justify his actions. But even so…

“I should have apologised to you,” he said. “That night, or in the morning. I wish I’d fought harder against Dargotika’s influence. But her power…it was addictive. And I was weak.”

Asher stayed silent.

Inside the tent, their younger selves were talking.

“I know you’re awake, Asher.”

No response.

Young Henrikk barked a laugh, then let out a long sigh. “I couldn’t get off with her. Do you want to come help finish me off?”

Young Asher did not answer, and it was clear he did not get out of his bed.

“Your loss. If you change your mind…” Soon, a heavy breathing became audible, as did the unmistakable sound of young Henrikk jerking off.

It was far more disturbing than Henrikk remembered it. He was ating to taunt Asher, and getting off on it.

There was a part of him that was ashamed to remember how good that had felt.

“Last chance, Asher. I’m so close.”

No answer. Henrikk remembered how Asher had lain on his back, stiff as a board as he stared at the ceiling. His face had been cast in shadow, but Henrikk recalled how his face had been etched with pain and betrayal. Much like the older Asher’s was as he stood beside him, eyes boring holes in the canvas.

“I’m going to come, Asher,” jeered young Henrikk. “And I’m going to picture you swallowing every last drop.”

A low groan sounded. And then all was silent.

And so began Henrikk’s miserable legacy. It was astounding that Asher had stuck by him after that.