Chapter 88: Controlled Burn

Chapter 88: Chapter 88: Controlled Burn

By the time Nero came out of the bathroom, Sebastian had already been in bed for nearly twenty minutes.

The room was dim except for the low lamps beside the headboard and the muted light from the medical sensor resting on the nightstand, its display reduced to a small green pulse that Sebastian had learned to ignore whenever he was trying to convince himself that his life had returned to something resembling normal.

He had changed into loose black sleep trousers and a thin shirt, then spent most of the evening reading because Nero had insisted that answering work messages from bed still counted as working and had confiscated his tablet with a degree of satisfaction Sebastian found deeply offensive.

The bathroom door opened behind him.

Sebastian looked up from his phone.

Nero stepped into the room barefoot, dressed only in dark lounge trousers, his white-blond hair hanging wet over his shoulders and down his back after the shower.

Water had darkened several strands almost to silver.

Sebastian watched a drop run from Nero’s temple toward his jaw.

Then something warm shifted through the room.

Smoke.

Burning wood.

A faint heat rolled outward from Nero’s body, subtle enough that the curtains did not move and the air itself barely changed, yet the water caught in his hair vanished almost immediately.

Sebastian lowered his phone.

Nero ran one hand through the now-dry strands.

Sebastian stared.

"You just dried your hair with pheromones."

Nero looked over.

"Yes."

"That seems unnecessarily dramatic."

"It is faster than a dryer."

"You are aware normal people use towels."

"I did use one."

Sebastian glanced toward the bathroom, where a damp towel hung across the heated rail.

"That was apparently insufficient."

Nero approached the bed with the calm confidence of someone who had long ago accepted that his own abilities existed partly for convenience.

Sebastian watched him.

He had seen Nero use his pheromones offensively before.

Years earlier in Alamina, when infected beasts had broken through one of the secured forest sectors, Nero had joined the response with two short military blades rather than standing behind the containment teams like any remotely sensible crown prince.

Sebastian remembered the sight clearly.

Nero had coated both blades in enigma pheromones until dark fire curled along the metal, purple sparks sliding over the edges whenever he moved.

It had looked terrifying.

It had also been completely unnecessary.

Nero could have burned through the beasts without touching a weapon.

Instead, he had chosen blades because he enjoyed fighting with his body.

Sebastian had thought him insane then.

That opinion had not changed.

Nero reached the side of the bed.

Sebastian pointed toward him.

"I have questions."

"You usually do."

"About your pheromones."

Nero’s expression shifted with immediate interest.

Sebastian barely had time to move his phone aside before Nero pulled back the covers, climbed onto the mattress, and closed the distance between them.

"Nero."

"Questions later."

One long arm slipped beneath Sebastian’s shoulders while the other circled his waist, and within seconds Sebastian had been drawn against Nero’s chest with his head tucked beneath the prince’s chin.

Sebastian sighed.

"You could answer while sitting like a normal person."

"I could."

"You simply refuse."

"Correct."

Nero settled more comfortably against the pillows, then drew the blanket over both of them before releasing just enough pheromones for the familiar warmth to gather around Sebastian.

Only after Sebastian stopped resisting the position did Nero look down at him.

"Ask."

Sebastian rested one hand against Nero’s bare chest, partly because it was there and partly because the steady warmth beneath his palm had become reassuring in ways he did not intend to examine too closely.

"How much control do you actually have?"

Nero considered the question.

"Over what?"

"Fire. Heat. The sparks. Whatever else you do that you have conveniently neglected to explain."

Nero’s mouth curved.

"I have explained."

"You once told me your pheromones burn things."

"They do."

"That is not an explanation."

"It is technically accurate."

Sebastian raised his head enough to glare.

Nero smiled and ran his fingers slowly through Sebastian’s dark hair.

"The fire is not literal fire in the ordinary sense," he said. "It behaves similarly because my pheromones can generate heat through receptor interaction and environmental conversion, but I can decide whether that heat remains diffuse, concentrates around an object, or becomes destructive."

Sebastian frowned slightly.

"So when you coated the blades in Alamina—"

"I concentrated the output along the metal."

"You could have done the same thing without the blades."

"Yes."

Sebastian stared.

Nero looked entirely unrepentant.

"You were having fun."

"I was fighting infected beasts."

"With flaming swords."

"Military blades."

"You set them on fire."

"They looked better that way."

Sebastian closed his eyes.

"I knew it."

Nero laughed softly.

Sebastian lowered his head back against his chest.

"You prefer physical combat."

"Yes."

"Why?"

Nero’s hand continued moving lazily through his hair.

"Because pheromones make most fights boring."

Sebastian opened his eyes again.

"That is an appalling answer."

"It is an honest one."

"You could end half those fights before anyone got close to you."

"I usually could."

"Yet you don’t."

"Not unless there is a reason."

Sebastian thought about the way Nero moved in combat, the precision of it, and the economy of motion that came from years of training rather than raw strength.

Nero was enormous by almost any standard, but he had never fought like a man relying on size alone.

He used reach, speed, balance, and timing.

The pheromones came afterward, usually as an enhancement rather than the foundation.

"Because you trained for it," Sebastian said.

Nero glanced down.

"Yes."

"That matters to you."

The amusement faded slightly.

"I dislike depending entirely on something I was born with."

Sebastian went quiet.

That answer made more sense than he expected.

Nero continued, his voice lower now.

"My pheromones are powerful because I’m an enigma. That required no effort from me. Control required effort. Fighting required effort. Strategy required effort. If I rely on the thing genetics handed me for everything, then the rest of me becomes decorative."

Sebastian looked at him.

"And you despise decorative."

"I enjoy decorative things."

His hand slid down Sebastian’s back.

"I simply prefer not to be one."

Sebastian smiled faintly and shifted closer.

Nero immediately tightened his arm around him.

"So drying your hair is acceptable."

"An excellent use of overwhelming biological power."

"And flaming military blades?"

"Also excellent."

"For fun."

"Especially for fun."

Sebastian laughed under his breath.

Nero pressed a kiss into his hair.

A few seconds passed before Sebastian asked, "Could you burn me?"

The arm around him tightened instantly.

"No."

The answer was too fast.

Sebastian looked up.

"I asked if you could."

"I know."

"That was not what you answered."

Nero’s violet eyes had sharpened.

Sebastian recognized the reaction and softened his tone.

"Technically."

Nero exhaled through his nose.

"If I lost control badly enough, perhaps. But my pheromones respond differently to you now, especially during the transition. They seek your receptors before they attack anything around them."

Sebastian remembered purple sparks burning through his unstable pheromones while Nero held him unconscious in this same bed.

"And when I went berserk?"

"I was burning your pheromones, not you."

Sebastian’s fingers pressed lightly against Nero’s chest.

"You knew the difference."

"I always know the difference."

The certainty in his voice left no room for doubt.

Sebastian studied him for a moment, then relaxed back against his body.

Nero’s pheromones settled warmer around them, smoke and dark spice wrapping the bed without enough heat to disturb the cool sheets.

Sebastian closed his eyes.

"You’re still a menace."

Nero kissed his temple.

"You like me."

"Unfortunately."

"You find me attractive."

Sebastian’s eyes opened.

Nero’s grin appeared immediately.

Sebastian stared at him.

"Go to sleep."