"I was going mad thinking I had lost you. But unlike you, I wouldn’t abandon our son."
Ren shut his eyes tight, his chest twisting in pain. Was this what he deserved—for being selfish? What was he supposed to do? The guilt weighing on him had been unbearable; he thought dying would be easier than living with it.
But now—after Ilyan’s words, after being told it was alright to move on—he could finally... breathe.
His hand trembled as he brushed Zayden’s skin, only to feel sothing warm and wet against his fingertips. When he looked up, he found Zayden crying—openly, without restraint.
"Are you crying?..." Ren asked softly, brushing Zayden’s tears away with his free hand.
The other remained trapped in Zayden’s grasp—no matter how gently he tried to pull away, the man refused to let go, clinging onto it.
"Yes, I am. Why? Are you going to tell alphas can’t cry?" Zayden’s lips curved into a faint, trembling smile.
Ren shook his head.
"No... I haven’t said that. Everyone can cry. But—"
"Can I hug you?" Zayden asked, interrupting him. His voice was low and unsteady while pressing a light kiss against Ren’s palm. "It feels like I am dreaming... Is this even real?" He chuckled, but his eyes filled with pain Ren couldn’t understand.
"Why do you think it’s a dream?" The oga chuckled faintly, pulling him into a warm embrace.
One arm wrapped carefully around Zayden’s back while his other hand stayed caught in his hold. For so reason, it seed he found comfort in holding his hand like this.
Zayden buried his face in the curve of Ren’s neck, breathing in the faint scent that told him this was real.
"I am not sure... What if I wake up, and realize none of this happened?"
The warmth of his skin, the sweet orange blossom scent he always wanted to sll this closely—were very much alive. His arms tightened slightly, as if the man before him might slip away again if he didn’t hold on hard enough.
Still, a quiet dread lingered beneath the warmth spreading through his chest. It was too peaceful, too fleeting. Every heartbeat whispered a single fear—what if this was only temporary?
Although Ren might not have said the words I love you yet, Zayden could feel his affection, hidden between his silence and trembling hands. And even if that love was fragile, uncertain, it was enough.
He would hold onto it, no matter how long it lasted. Even if it broke him to let go again.
He had waited for five years. He could wait for another five.
Or ten.
Or twenty.
Or fifty.
Or a lifeti.
***
Four days had passed since the hunting festival ended. When Enzo returned to the palace after the hunt, a maid inford him that Ren had been injured.
He had wanted to request an audience with Zayden, but the news stopped him from doing so. He had planned to discuss his trial, yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. How could he speak of his own matters so selfishly when Zayden was struggling with his own problems?
Even if the General was the man he had once harboured feelings for, and perhaps still did, Enzo would never risk interfering with the bond between Zayden and the person he cared for most.
Not when he could hear the man’s voice as commanded the physicians he had summoned from every corner of the capital to tend to his lover.
"What are you pondering so deeply about?"
Enzo flinched at the voice, dropping the quill he had been holding all this ti. He was sitting at his desk, as usual, writing random poems for his own pleasure. He hadn’t heard any footsteps either.
At the beginning of his marriage to Charles, he had tried to make their relationship work. He worked hard to adapt to the customs and traditions of Hianshu, but nothing seed to please the High Priest. Charles always found flaws in him, making Enzo wonder if he was even worthy of love.
It wasn’t until he began reading books to pass the lonely hours locked in his room that he found so solace. Charles didn’t like it when Enzo went outside, claiming it would "stain his mind" or so reasoning Enzo never fully understood.
"Hmm?" Charles tapped on the table, waiting for an answer.
There couldn’t be anyone more impatient than him—well, except Enzo’s father.
"Just writing..." Enzo answered softly.
"Hmm? Strange. You don’t sound mad at today," Charles said with a grin, trailing Enzo’s body with his gaze.
Enzo felt his stomach twist, sensing the lust in those eyes. Was he nothing more than a re toy to this man?
Didn’t Charles see that he had feelings too? How could he, when he was constantly treated like an object—sothing to be suppressed, sothing that had to remain beneath him?
The only thing keeping Enzo calm was that it would soon be over. He could finally escape the clutches of this man, even if it ant being disowned by his father.
"I kind of heard so interesting news."
Charles rested his hand on his partner’s neck, tracing small circles with his finger.
Enzo’s gaze flickered up, curiosity pricking at him. If sothing had caught Charles’s attention, it must be about Revhara.
"Look at you, all ears as soon as I ntion news. Since when are you into gossip?" the alpha chuckled.
But the oga didn’t smile or react, his expression unreadable.
"Well, I heard General Zayden’s partner got hurt," Charles leaned closer, lowering his voice as if soone might overhear.
"Alright... but what makes that interesting?" Enzo frowned.
"Well, which oga would risk their life for their partner? Such a rare and heart-touching story," Charles said, rubbing the corner of his eyes as if shedding tears.
"So, I was thinking... why don’t you do the sa?" He grinned, lifting Enzo’s chin with his thumb.
"What do you an?..." Narrowing his eyes, Enzo looked at the man in front of him in disbelief. What was going on in his twisted mind now?
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