[BL] Alpha, You've Got the Wrong Mate! Chapter 267 — Never Wanted Freedom

His deep slumber broke only when a knock echoed against the door.

He shifted on the mattress for a mont before granting the servant permission to enter.

With a swift movent, the door opened, and a young man stepped inside, carrying a tray. A cup of warm tea rested on it, white steam curling lazily into the air.

"Good morning, My Lord," the servant greeted, bowing respectfully before placing the tray on the table.

Liam glanced at him through half-lidded eyes, blinking as he cleared his vision.

For a fleeting mont, he could have sworn it was Yusha. A quiet laugh slipped past his lips when he realized his mistake.

He had grown so accustod to the oga’s presence that he was now hallucinating him, performing his usual duties as if nothing had changed.

"Prepare a warm bath for ," he ordered.

The servant bowed without a word and disappeared into the washroom.

A few minutes later, he erged to inform Liam that the bath was ready.

By then, Liam was seated on the edge of the mattress, staring out through the windowpane. The sky remained dark, though it was already nearing six in the morning.

"Go serve breakfast to the man in the other room. Make sure he is ready in an hour. The physician will arrive soon," he ordered, slipping his feet into his slippers.

The servant didn’t say much, rely nodding before bowing and leaving the room.

It was an odd situation—a lord caring so much for a servant. And as if that weren’t enough, he had even given him a large room, as though he were the master of the house.

"And to have him checked by a physician too..." Liam muttered under his breath.

Servants were never treated so well. Even when injured—on the verge of death—they were simply discarded, dismissed without a second glance, never afforded the care of a physician.

No matter how advanced a country claid to be, no matter how many rights its laws promised, if no one truly respected those people, then all of it was aningless.

Inside the room, Liam stepped into the bath, washing himself alone. It was inconvenient, irritating even—but he didn’t want anyone else’s hands on him. Not like that. Not when he was used to Yusha.

The thought of the oga’s touch crept into his mind uninvited. Gentle hands sliding over his back, over his arms, over the lines of his body as if they belonged there. The way Yusha always hesitated at first, quiet and careful—until warmth took over, until his body responded despite himself.

Heat spread through Liam’s veins.

He shut his eyes, jaw tightening, recalling the way Yusha would cling to him, breath stuttering when Liam guided him closer, slower, never forcing—only waiting until the oga lted into his hold. The way his body welcod him, the way his soft whimpers grew needy, desperate, not from pain, but from want.

Liam’s hand closed around his cock, moving in a steady rhythm as he breathed out Yusha’s na under his breath.

The room filled with low, restrained moans, his thoughts fixed on mory alone—on the warmth, the closeness, the way Yusha always ended up trembling against him, asking for more by barely raising his voice.

Liam exhaled sharply, grip tightening.

He didn’t want to hurt the oga. Never that.

He only wanted what they had before everything beca so complicated.

Once he had finished, he stepped out of the bath, cleaning himself and putting on his clothes. His hair was still damp, droplets of water trailing down the strands and falling onto his shoulders.

Just then, the door slamd open—soone barged in.

Liam frowned, glaring at the servant from earlier.

How dare he—?

But his expression changed, his eyes widening the mont he truly saw the servant’s face.

The man was panting as if he had run for his life, sweat dripping down his temples, his eyes filled with unmistakable dread.

"What is it?" Liam asked.

"T-That man you spoke of—"

"What happened to Yusha?!" the count demanded, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. His chest tightened at once—his mind racing with everything that could have gone wrong.

Before, he had never worried much. He had always known Yusha wouldn’t leave him.

But yesterday... sothing had shifted. Sothing subtle, yet unmistakable.

And now, he feared he had been too late to understand it.

The servant swallowed hard, his lips trembling.

"He—he’s gone, My Lord."

The words struck Liam like a blade—sharp.

Liam stilled. Sothing stung inside him.

"...Gone?" His voice dropped, dangerously calm.

The servant nodded frantically.

"The room was empty. The windows were untouched, so surely he didn’t escape through them, but the main door—soone took the keys from one of the guards, and I suspect it might be him..." he inhaled to catch his breath before continuing.

"The guards on the first floor said they didn’t see him pass. So noticed footprints outside when they were for a walk earlier this morning, but due to the snowstorm, it might be hard to trace him—" He shook his head. "The snowfall erased them."

For a mont, there was only silence.

Then, Liam’s hand shot out, gripping the servant by the collar, lifting him slightly off the ground.

"Gone where?" he barked, eyes burning. "How does an injured oga—barefoot, so weak—disappear from a guarded estate?"

"I-I don’t know! We searched everywhere—"

Liam shoved him away. The servant stumbled back, barely keeping his balance.

Damned snow.

His chest tightened painfully.

The image ca unbidden—Yusha standing in the cold, thin shoulders trembling, arms wrapped around himself.

Liam’s stomach twisted. He didn’t want the oga to suffer. He said he wanted that thing to disappear from their life.

"You idiots," the Count hissed. "All of you."

He turned sharply, striding toward the door.

"Wake every knight. Search the periter. Check the roads, the forests—everything." His voice cracked with restrained fury. "If you find him, bring him to imdiately. Unhard."

The servant hesitated.

"My Lord... if he fled this desperately, perhaps he—"

Liam spun around.

"You better keep that mouth shut if you don’t want to cut off your tongue."

The servant went pale and bowed deeply.

"Y-Yes, My Lord."

The mont the man dashed out, Liam stood alone in the room, breath uneven.

How?

How could Yusha run away from him?

His fingers curled slowly into a fist.

"No..." he muttered, jaw tightening. "You wouldn’t leave. You never wanted freedom. Not from . You said so yourself."

***

A few days had passed since they returned to the mansion. Zayden and Ren had settled back into their usual routine—training camps, inspections, and overseeing the grounds.

For the ti being, Helaine and Aaron handled all the troubleso missions, insisting that Zayden rest a little longer before fully resuming his duties.

Why?

Because that man didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut. If he could, he would have announced to the entire world that he was with Ren. For now, he had limited himself to telling all of his knights.

Ren felt his face heat up the mont Zayden made the announcent. His ears burned, his hands twitched, and he could barely find words to protest.

Why was the alpha doing this so eagerly?

It left him completely speechless.

The knights, on the other hand, seed more amused than anything. A few exchanged knowing glances, so smirked openly, and one even cleared his throat dramatically.

"Finally," one muttered under his breath, "about ti the boss also found soone."

"Now, he would get mad at us for running to our wives and leaving him drinking alone," another chuckled.

Ren groaned inwardly, wishing the ground would split open so that he could disappear into the floor.

Zayden, however, only shot him a smug smile, as if he enjoyed every second of his discomfort.

"What are you thinking about?" the alpha asked, his arms sliding around the oga’s waist from behind, holding him close.

Ren stiffened, instinctively turning his head to glance at Zayden.

"It seems you forgot to ask permission," he teased, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

Zayden chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the side of Ren’s neck. "I think you’re overthinking it."

The silver-haired man’s cheeks flushed. The man who had once ruled through fear of touch—who had made him ask for permission for every little thing—was now free to hold him, kiss him, and take what he wanted whenever he pleased.

Ren’s lips curved into a wry smile. "Maybe it’s because of you," he murmured. "I am getting tired of always waiting. You should know by now... you don’t need to ask anymore."

Zayden’s hands tightened slightly at Ren’s waist, his heart thudding in his chest. "That... doesn’t make it easier. I don’t want to anger you in any way," he admitted, voice low.

Ren laughed softly, leaning back against him.

"It’s supposed to be hard. That is exactly why I am saying it’s alright."

A shiver ran through Zayden at the words, and he pressed himself closer, the heat between them growing.

Ren’s playful tone made it impossible to resist—he both infuriated and fascinated him, every touch sending electric waves through his body.