Chapter 45

Chapter 45: Chapter 45

Chapter 45

KAI’s POV

Staring endlessly through the window, seconds turned into minutes, and I barely even recognized it. The night outside had long since settled into a deep, unmoving dark, broken only by the occasional distant light of the city. My reflection hovered faintly against the glass, tired and hollow-eyed. The muscles behind my neck ached from the prolonged stillness, a dull, persistent throb that finally forced me to move. I left the window and collapsed into the leather chair behind my study table. Arms spread out, once again, I stared into the nothingness.

All of a sudden, everything felt worthless. The entire counterattack at the Court and my standing up to Father, a necessary challenge to owning my life and making my stance firm before him.

It suddenly felt unrewarding.

The weight of those victories sat heavy in my chest, stripped of any real satisfaction. I had fought for space, for autonomy, for the right to decide my own path, yet the quiet of this room made every hard-won inch feel empty. I closed my eyes and melted into the solemn embrace of the darkness, the silence in the room acting as a soothing balm to my throbbing heart. The leather creaked softly beneath me. The air smelled faintly of old books and the lingering trace of whiskey from earlier. For a few long moments, that silence was enough.

Until the door barged open.

Clawface stood there, eyes widened with a phone in his hand. "He’s on the phone."

The simple words jolted me upright, my hands clutching the table as I gawked at Clawface. The sudden rush of blood to my head left a brief ringing in my ears. My pulse kicked hard against my throat.

"Alex?"

Clawface nodded, maintaining his wide grin. I waved for him to come closer and accepted the call, placing it to my ear. The plastic felt cool against my skin.

"Alex..." I slurred into the speaker, voice already rough from hours of silence.

His voice came out feeble and strained. Every syllable sounded like it cost him effort. My head fogged during the brief exchange, the words blurring together under the sheer force of relief that flooded through me. I barely registered the details, only the confirmation that he was alive, that he was asking for me. Then I slipped the phone into my pocket and headed out. Clawface followed behind me, matching my hurried strides down the hallway. The lights overhead felt too bright after the dim study.

"I’ll do this alone," I told him as I arrived at the garage. My voice came out sharper than intended, edged with something close to desperation.

Not a second later, a black SUV recklessly sped out of the garage, with a tint of realization etched into my skin. It seemed Alex hadn’t gotten only me to swoon, but Clawface as well. The thought flickered briefly, almost irrelevant against the pounding need to reach him. The engine growled under my hands. Streetlights streaked past the windows in long, blurred lines.

Arriving at the phone booth, Alex lay against it, knees drawn up and wrapped by his arms, his head buried against his kneecaps. The fluorescent light above the booth flickered weakly, casting uneven shadows across his crumpled form. He looked smaller than I remembered, fragile in a way that twisted something deep in my chest.

Hurriedly, I wrapped my arms around him just as he perked up. My nostrils flared, inhaling his scent deeply. The air hadn’t felt worthy of breathing ever since his pheromones stopped lingering within it. The familiar sweetness hit me like a physical force, warm and grounding and desperately missed. I pulled him tighter, feeling the fine tremor running through his body.

Alex didn’t say a word. Instead, he sobbed into my arms, burying his face against my chest. The sound of his crying was raw, broken, each breath hitching as if it hurt to take. Wet heat soaked through the fabric of my shirt. I held him through it, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other locked firm around his shoulders.

"You’re with me now. You’re with me," I repeated over and over while he stammered, attempting to force words out. My own voice stayed low and steady, even as my heart hammered against my ribs.

"I... I’m so sorry," he sobbed. The apology cracked in the middle, thick with exhaustion and something deeper.

During the drive back home, I reminisced on the scene at the phone booth. He had completely broken down the moment he saw me. The image of him curled against that cold metal booth stayed fixed behind my eyes. I sympathized with him, but most importantly, I was proud.

Once, I had been furious. I hated that he went behind my back to deal with a war as dangerous as that, where he could have gotten himself killed. The anger had burned hot for days, sharp and unrelenting. But now, I felt nothing short of relief and admiration. The fear of losing him had stripped everything else away, leaving only the simple, overwhelming fact that he was here, breathing, solid in the seat beside me.

Back home, I carried Alex in my arms while he rested his head against my chest, the comfort one I’d so utterly missed. His weight felt right, familiar. A broad smile tugged at my lips, everything suddenly returning to completion. The house was quiet as I moved through the halls, careful not to jostle him more than necessary.

Just like that...

Once the maids had the tub ready, Alex was soaked into the warm water. Steam rose in soft curls around him. His face was still matted with remnants of tears, his hair sprawled around his head, his usual fine demeanor shattered into vulnerability. I worked carefully, rinsing the dirt and blood and exhaustion from his skin. The water turned cloudy. He stayed mostly silent, eyes half-lidded, letting me handle him without resistance.

The curiosity of whatever had happened out there clawed at my chest. In the delight of having him back, I weakly restrained myself from asking him a million and one questions. Every small flinch, every tired sigh, made the need to know burn hotter, yet I forced it down. He needed rest more than I needed answers.

Once I’d cleansed Alex, I carried him again to the bed. The curtains swayed under the whirling wind, calling for my attention to shut the windows. After doing so, I sat at the edge of the bed and placed a kiss against his forehead. His skin was warm and clean beneath my lips.

Alex clutched my shirt, and I grabbed his hand gently, giving it a reassuring squeeze. His fingers were still cold at the tips.

"Sweet peach," I called softly. Against his condition, his cheeks reddened, and I almost caught him rolling his eyes. The familiar nickname landed between us like a small, private anchor.

"Kai..."

"You don’t need to tell me everything now. Take your time and recover. I’m proud of you, okay?" I brushed his hair back carefully, tucking the strands behind his ear. The soft, damp texture of it slid between my fingers.

"Stay with me. I don’t want to be alone. Not ever again." His words sent warmth flooding through my heart. There was no demand in them, only a quiet, exhausted plea that settled deep into my bones.

I itched to know everything, but he first needed to recover, and so I took off my shirt before positioning myself behind him. Arms wrapped around his waist and fingers intertwined with his, I locked myself against Alex. He brushed backward until our skin touched fully, his ass pressing against my hardening cock. The contact was immediate and electric, my body reacting before my mind could fully catch up.

"Don’t mind me..." I voiced out, croaked and rough, and Alex chuckled softly. The sound was small and tired, but real.

"On the bright side, it’s great knowing you’re still attracted to me."

"Uh, my cock’s just shameless when it comes to you," I murmured into the crook of his neck, slowly inhaling his scent again like a man starved. The warmth of his skin against my lips grounded me further.

Alex turned around until our foreheads connected, and he traced a finger down my chest. He paid attention to the intricate definition of each muscle beneath his touch, moving slowly, almost thoughtfully. The light pressure of his fingertip left faint trails of sensation in its wake.

"So, it’s safe to say you still love me."

"Oh, sweet peach." I cooed, placing a kiss against his forehead before resting mine against his again. The quiet between us felt full rather than empty.

When Alex reached lower, he dipped his hand into my pants, his fingers pushing aside my boxers. The moment he wrapped his hand around my cock, he brushed his thumb along the length teasingly. The touch was lazy, unhurried, more comfort than demand.

"Yeah, it’s actually hard..." he blurted out, and we both laughed quietly. The shared sound loosened something tight in my chest.

"You’re cringe as fuck. I love you," I muttered, and his blush deepened even more. Color bloomed high across his cheeks in the dim light.

"I love you too, Kai. Thanks for accepting me."

Alex played lazily with my balls, a smile spreading across my face. The gentle, almost absentminded motion sent slow waves of pleasure through me, but it was secondary to everything else. More than the pleasure blooming between us, it was the comfort of having him back, the warmth I felt, the exchange of pure affection and a resilient bond reminding me that I wasn’t alone anymore.

A feeling so powerful it overshadowed every ounce of betrayal.

I was at peace.

We were at peace.

Finally...