Chapter 25: Generous

Chapter 25: Chapter 25: Generous

Nero let the silence stretch long enough for Melrose to misunderstand it.

The booth had been designed for privacy, all dark glass, black leather, and muted gold light recessed into the walls. Beyond the tinted partition, the music from the party reached them only as a distant pulse. Inside, the room felt almost detached from Vesper House entirely.

Melrose stood between Nero’s legs as though he had already won something.

Nero watched that confidence settle over him.

Then he reached toward the low table.

A fresh glass of Sahan whiskey waited beside the edge, the amber liquor catching warm light beneath the crystal. Nero picked it up and turned it once between his fingers, watching the liquid climb the side before settling again.

Melrose’s gaze followed the movement immediately.

"You were generous earlier," Nero said.

Melrose smiled.

"I thought you might appreciate something good."

"Oh, I did."

The answer pleased him exactly as Nero expected.

Some of the remaining tension left Melrose’s shoulders. He shifted closer, his charcoal jacket brushing Nero’s knee. His pale hair had fallen slightly out of place since entering the booth, softening an expression that had become almost smug.

Nero nearly admired it.

There was something fascinating about watching vanity translate every warning into encouragement.

Melrose had seen Nero accept his invitation. He had received the private message. He had been allowed this close.

Therefore, in Melrose’s mind, everything had worked.

Nero lifted the glass slightly.

"You should learn to share the good things."

Melrose’s smile widened.

For a moment, he hesitated, apparently expecting Nero to take the first drink. When Nero merely continued holding it toward him, Melrose glanced from the whiskey to his face.

"For me?"

Nero’s mouth curved.

"You sent me one."

That apparently sounded romantic.

Melrose accepted the glass.

Nero watched his fingers close around the heavy crystal.

He had wondered whether Melrose might recognize it. The same cut glass. The same whiskey. Even the same faint medicinal sharpness beneath the alcohol if someone knew what to look for.

Apparently not.

Melrose brought it to his lips.

Nero said nothing.

The first swallow went down easily.

Melrose lowered the glass only briefly before taking another, more comfortable now that Nero continued watching him without objection.

He seemed pleased with himself.

Nero rested one arm along the back of the couch. His other hand remained loose against his bent knee, posture relaxed enough that anyone looking through the tinted glass might have assumed this was exactly what Melrose believed it to be.

A private encounter between two people who had finally decided to stop pretending they were strangers.

"Good?" Nero asked.

"Very."

"I’m glad." He said with a soft smile.

Melrose stepped closer.

One of his knees nearly touched the couch between Nero’s legs now. His perfume was stronger at this distance, something deliberately sweet layered over his natural omega scent.

"Same whiskey?" he asked.

"The same one you chose."

Melrose laughed quietly.

"Then you did like it."

Nero hummed.

He drank again.

Nero’s smile deepened.

This time, Melrose noticed.

His expression shifted almost imperceptibly, confidence faltering beneath the attention.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Nero glanced at the glass.

"You simply seemed very convinced I would enjoy it."

Melrose followed his gaze.

The first effects arrived almost immediately afterward.

A flush rose beneath his collar.

His breathing changed.

The hand holding the glass tightened as warmth spread far too quickly through his body to be blamed on whiskey alone.

Melrose looked down.

Then back at Nero.

Nero watched the realization form slowly.

Confusion came first.

Then calculation.

Then fear.

His lips parted.

"You..."

Nero tilted his head.

Melrose stared at the amber liquor remaining in the glass.

"I believe the phrase was ’something good.’"

The crystal trembled in his hand.

Nero’s purple eyes caught the low light, brightening faintly against the darkness of the booth.

For the first time since entering, Melrose took a step backward.

Nero’s knee prevented him from going far.

"Don’t stop now."

Melrose froze.

Nero remained exactly where he had been from the beginning, relaxed against the black leather, one arm stretched comfortably along the couch.

Melrose remained frozen between Nero’s legs, the glass trembling in his hand as the drug began to course through his veins. His eyes darted around the dim space, searching for escape, but finding only Nero’s gaze fixed upon him.

"Please," Melrose whispered, his voice cracking. "I didn’t—"

"Didn’t what?" Nero’s voice was dangerously soft as he shifted his position, moving with the fluid grace of a predator adjusting its stance before the kill. "Didn’t think I would notice? Didn’t think I would mind? Or didn’t think I would be capable of returning the favor?"

Nero’s pheromones intensified, pressing down on Melrose with such force that his knees buckled completely.

The omega collapsed to the floor, the glass slipping from his grasp and shattering against the polished surface. Amber liquid spread like blood across the floor.

Nero rose from the couch with elegant laziness. He stood over Melrose, a towering figure whose shadow consumed the smaller man. The purple soles of his shoes came into view as he stepped forward, placing one foot directly over Melrose’s knee.

"You wanted attention from alphas," Nero murmured, his voice dropping to a low register that vibrated through Melrose’s very bones. "I’m going to make certain you receive exactly what you desire."

Melrose’s mind raced, fragments of conversation and rumors about Vesper House flashing through his drug-addled thoughts. He remembered whispered stories of omega disappearances, of reputations shattered beyond repair, and of Nero’s punishments delivered with surgical precision.

"Your Highness—"

"Nero," corrected the Crown Prince, his purple eyes gleaming in the dim lighting. "And you will address me as such when you’re begging."

The booth door slid open without warning.

Two bodyguards entered, their expressions unreadable as they stood awaiting instructions. They were built like mountains, shoulders broad beneath their tailored uniforms, faces impassive.

Nero didn’t turn to look at them, his attention remaining fixed on Melrose. "Take the new toy to the boys," he said, his voice casual as if discussing nothing more than delivering a package. "They’re in the west wing."

"No," Melrose gasped, attempting to scramble backward despite Nero’s foot still pressing him down. "Please, don’t—"

Nero crouched down, bringing his face level with Melrose’s. The scent of his pheromones was overwhelming now, a heady mix of dominance and danger that made Melrose’s omega instincts scream in submission. "Did you consider my consent when you attempted to drug me? Did you consider my wishes when you decided to override them with chemicals?"

Melrose shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. "I’m sorry, I didn’t think—"

"Obviously," Nero replied dryly, rising to his full height again.

The guards seized Melrose’s arms, lifting him to his feet with ease. His body was already responding to the drugs, warmth spreading beneath his skin, pulse quickening, awareness sharpening despite his terror.

As they dragged him from the booth, Melrose caught Nero’s final words: "And tell the boys to be creative. Our guest here seems to enjoy being the center of attention."

The guards dragged Melrose through corridors he didn’t recognize, his mind growing increasingly foggy with need as the drugs took full effect. By the time they reached the west wing, his movements were uncoordinated, his body betraying him with arousal despite his mind’s horror.

They pushed him into a lavishly appointed room where the air was thick with pheromones and the sounds of pleasure.

Several alphas and omegas were engaged in various states of intimacy, each one more creative than the others.

A tall alpha with silver hair noticed their arrival first. "What’s this?"

"Nero’s gift," one of the guards replied. "He said to make sure our new friend experiences everything Vesper House has to offer."