Chapter 73: Familiar Scent

Chapter 73: Chapter 73: Familiar Scent

Sebastian dragged the towel across his face and down the back of his neck, wiping away the sweat that had gathered during nearly two hours of training.

His muscles ached pleasantly beneath his dark green sports shirt, the fabric clinging to his chest and back as he left the training wing and entered the quieter corridor leading toward the private suites.

He wanted a shower.

Preferably a long one, followed by dinner and several hours doing absolutely nothing.

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows, reflecting off the polished stone floor while the ventilation carried the faint scent of the gardens into the corridor.

Sebastian had barely taken another step when two enormous arms wrapped around him from behind.

He startled, his hand instinctively tightening around the towel, but the familiar warmth pressing against his back and the unmistakable scent of dark spice and smoke made him relax before he even turned his head.

There was only one person who could hold him like that.

One person whose chest rested comfortably against his back despite Sebastian being almost two meters tall.

A laugh escaped him.

"Nero."

His fiancé hummed against the side of his neck, apparently finding the greeting sufficient reason to tighten his embrace.

"When did you get back?"

"Just now."

"And you decided to ambush me before I could shower?"

"I missed you."

Nero delivered the answer with such shameless sincerity that Sebastian smiled, reaching down to cover one of the large hands resting against his abdomen.

"Love, get off. I’m disgusting."

"You’re perfect."

"I’m sweating."

"I noticed."

Sebastian turned his head, intending to deliver a proper complaint, only for Nero to lower his face into the curve of his neck and inhale deeply.

The movement sent a familiar shiver down Sebastian’s spine.

"Nero."

"God, you smell good."

His voice had dropped, the words emerging in a low murmur against damp skin while his nose brushed slowly along Sebastian’s neck.

Sebastian let his head fall back against Nero’s shoulder with an exasperated laugh.

"I smell like someone who has been training for two hours."

"Exactly."

"That is a deeply questionable preference."

Nero made a pleased sound and nuzzled closer, his lips brushing the sensitive skin beneath Sebastian’s ear before he inhaled again, apparently determined to memorize every trace of his scent.

"Your true scent is strongest after training," he murmured. "I could find you anywhere like this."

Sebastian’s smile softened.

There was something almost embarrassingly intimate about the way Nero said it, without hesitation or any attempt to disguise just how much he enjoyed having Sebastian within reach.

He turned slightly in the embrace.

"Are you going to let me shower, or do you intend to stand here smelling me until dinner?"

"That depends."

"On?"

"Whether you stop trying to escape."

Sebastian laughed and gave the arm around his waist a gentle squeeze.

"I am going to the bathroom, not another kingdom."

Nero’s answer was to slip one large hand beneath the hem of his sports shirt.

Sebastian inhaled sharply when warm fingers settled against his bare abdomen, the contrast between Nero’s skin and the cool, sweat-damp fabric making him instinctively lean back against the broad chest behind him.

The other hand followed, spreading over his waist as Nero drew him closer, fitting their bodies together with an ease that suggested he had done this countless times before.

Sebastian’s laughter faded.

"Nero."

His name came out considerably softer than intended.

Nero pressed a kiss against the side of his neck.

Then another, slightly lower.

Sebastian closed his eyes, feeling the familiar warmth of Nero’s pheromones gather around him, dark spice and smoke surrounding the two of them as his own scent responded with an instinctive familiarity that made the contact feel almost necessary.

He was no longer thinking about the shower.

Nero shifted behind him, one long leg moving forward until his knee settled between Sebastian’s thighs, adjusting their position as his arms tightened around Sebastian’s waist.

Sebastian caught Nero’s wrist beneath his shirt.

His fingers simply closed around the larger hand, holding it against his abdomen while his head tipped farther back onto Nero’s shoulder.

The position felt impossibly familiar.

The warmth.

The weight of Nero’s body against his back.

The way those enormous hands held him as though Sebastian had always belonged exactly where he was.

He knew this.

Somewhere deeper than conscious memory, he knew every movement.

Nero’s lips brushed his neck again.

"My moon."

Sebastian’s breath caught.

There was something different about his voice now, an affection so comfortable and unguarded that Sebastian felt his chest tighten.

He wanted to turn around.

Wanted to see the expression on Nero’s face, to touch his cheek, to find out whether he was smiling the way Sebastian remembered from that sunlit room.

He loosened his hold on Nero’s wrist and began turning in his arms.

"Love, I—"

The corridor vanished.

The warmth disappeared so abruptly that Sebastian instinctively reached backward, his fingers closing around nothing.

His eyes flew open.

He was lying in the observation bed, tangled in sheets that had twisted around his legs, while the television continued playing the crime series he had started earlier.

The room was dim, illuminated by the amber bedside lights and the changing colors of the television.

His heart was pounding.

Sebastian stared at the ceiling, breathing hard enough that the monitoring band around his wrist gave a muted warning.

He could still feel Nero’s hands beneath his shirt.

Could still remember the weight of his body against his back and the warm breath moving over his neck.

Most disturbing of all, he could still almost smell him.

Sebastian slowly raised one hand to his neck.

There was nothing there.

Nero was in Altera.

Sebastian slowly dragged one hand over his face.

"Fuck."

The word escaped more quietly than he intended.

He could still feel Nero’s arms around him.

The warmth of his palm beneath the shirt.

The pressure of his chest against Sebastian’s back.

Even the scent seemed to linger somewhere beyond his senses, familiar enough that Sebastian instinctively turned his head toward the empty space beside him.

Nothing.

The television continued playing.

A detective was questioning someone in a dimly lit office, apparently unaware that Sebastian had just experienced something considerably more interesting than the entire investigation.

The door opened.

Claude entered carrying a tablet, his attention moving immediately from Sebastian to the monitoring display beside the bed.

"What happened?"

Sebastian looked at him.

Claude approached, studying the elevated heart rate and the sudden changes in neurological activity recorded during the last several minutes.

"Your readings spiked."

Sebastian glanced toward the monitor.

Of course they had.

He pulled the blanket higher over his abdomen, attempting to disentangle one leg from the sheets without making the movement look as awkward as it felt.

"I fell asleep."

Claude looked at the television.

Then back at him.

"And?"

Sebastian exhaled.

"It was just a dream."