Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“You didn’t do anything to apologize for,” Lucien said uncomfortably. “Nothing really happened.”
Aksel gave a humorless smile. “Don’t kid yourself. If Royce hadn’t interrupted us, I would have knotted you right there, consequences be damned.”
Lucien’s face felt on fire.
“There’s no need to be crude,” he said in a stilted voice, crossing his arms over his chest. “It was simply unlucky that I forgot to take my pills that day. You couldn’t help that you went into a sympathy rut in response to my heat. It’s biology, nothing more.”
Shaking his head with a pinched expression, Aksel said, “Stop making excuses for me. I’m trying to be a better person here.” His lips twisted. “Trying being the key word. I’m not kind like my brother. Doing the right thing doesn’t come naturally to me.” Aksel lifted a hand and pressed his thumb against Lucien’s throat—against his scent gland, his touch ever so gentle.
Lucien shuddered, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Don’t,” he tried, painfully aware of how unconvincing he sounded. How shaky, weak, and needy. “We shouldn’t.”
“I know,” Aksel said, staring at his neck intently. Was that resentment in his gaze? Or was it hatred? Self-loathing? Or just plain loathing?
It made Lucien’s heart hurt. Hurt for him. He’d never wanted to be the reason for any hurt or conflict. Not for Aksel, the only person who’d made him feel like he still had a home.
“Darling,” Lucien said softly.
Aksel’s pheromones flared. “Don’t call me that,” he said, his voice strained. “It messes with my head.”
Pursing his lips, Lucien nodded. It messed with his own head too. He was no longer sure what he even meant. This man wasn’t the boy he’d once adored. But it was probably normal that it would take them time to get used to each other. To get to know each other as adults.
“I hope we can still be friends,” Lucien said. “Like we used to be.”
“Were we, though?” Aksel’s tone was almost cynical. Self-deprecating?
Lucien’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean? Of course we were.”
Aksel’s jaw worked. “Our entire relationship consisted of me stomping all over your boundaries, ignoring your wishes to be left alone and forcing my presence on you. It was me who bullied you into accepting my hugs, my touch, and my scent. All you did was put up with it, Lucien.” His tone was hard, but something about the way he held himself, unnaturally stiff, betrayed an old hurt. An old doubt.
Oh.
Looking back, Lucien could see how it looked from Aksel’s point of view: Lucien had never been the one to initiate things. He’d never hugged Aksel himself. Not even once. He’d always just accepted his pushy affection, sighing long-sufferingly but receptive enough, and never, ever initiating anything.
Had Aksel ever felt insecure because of it? Like his affection wasn’t returned? He’d always seemed so confident, so assertive, that the mere idea of him being insecure seemed ridiculous, but...
He’d been just a boy. A boy who’d always questioned his place in society as it was. A boy who’d been regarded with wariness and distrust just because of a quirk in his genetics. Even his own mother had never seemed quite as comfortable with Aksel as she was with her other children. She used to pretend he wasn’t a Xeus, trying to shave off the baby fur on his cheeks until it finally stopped growing out when he was six. What did that do to a child’s psyche? That he couldn’t be loved as himself? Was that why Aksel had latched onto Lucien so hard back then? Lucien might have shied away from his touch, but he shied away from everyone’s touch, so Aksel likely hadn’t taken it as personally. But the old doubts—the old hurt—must have been still there.
Biting the inside of his cheek, Lucien hesitated.
Oh, screw it.
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Aksel. “Don’t be silly,” he said. “I wasn’t bullied into anything. I’m hugging you, see?”
Aksel was absolutely rigid against him for a long moment—and then his arms squeezed him in a bone-crushing hug, his pheromones flaring up. Lucien nearly whimpered, his mind becoming foggy. God, that scent, the way Aksel’s arms felt around him... it felt so fucking right. He had missed this.
He had missed him.
So. Damn. Much.
“I’m sorry,” Aksel said hoarsely, his face buried in Lucien’s neck. He was pumping out pheromones so aggressively Lucien had little doubt he was going to reek of him for days. Something about the thought caused a warm feeling to curl in his stomach. Truth be told, he’d always loved smelling of Aksel. He’d barely recognized his own scent after Aksel’s departure. It had seemed... lacking. Wrong. Incomplete.
God, his own thoughts made him cringe. He’d thought he was well past this neediness. He was a fully-fledged adult with a job now.
“For what, darling?” Lucien said softly, threading his fingers through Aksel’s dark hair.