Chapter 170: Stay

Chapter 170: Chapter 170: Stay

The older car struck the barrier.

Nero felt the force through the connection and shoved against it with enough power that pain tore through his own chest.

For several seconds after his car stopped moving, he could hear nothing clearly.

There was a high ringing in his ears, the ticking complaint of damaged metal somewhere beneath the hood, and his own breathing, too loud inside a cabin that smelled of scorched rubber and blood. The restraint had locked painfully across his chest, and something warm was already running from his temple into his hair.

None of it mattered.

Sebastian.

Nero forced the belt free and shoved against the driver’s door. It resisted before giving with a metallic groan, and he stepped onto the road with one hand braced briefly against the frame while his balance corrected itself.

His left shoulder hurt. His ribs probably did too. He barely registered either.

Across the highway, Sebastian’s car sat at an angle near the barrier, the front crushed badly enough to make Nero’s stomach turn despite knowing exactly how much protection he had wrapped around him during the impact.

The shield had held.

He knew it had.

Sebastian was alive.

Nero could still feel him faintly through the residue of his pheromones, the familiar presence beneath the panic, anger and adrenaline burning through the bond that was not technically complete and yet had never needed permission to behave like one.

The driver’s door of the older car opened.

Relief hit Nero so hard that his knees nearly weakened.

Sebastian climbed out.

He looked terrible.

Blood ran from his temple into the collar of the green suit he had worn to the reception. One sleeve had darkened along the arm, and the way he caught himself against the side of the car told Nero that his ribs had taken more force than Nero wanted.

Nero smiled before he could stop himself.

Sebastian looked across the road and saw him.

The fury that crossed his face was immediate.

"You fucking lunatic."

Nero’s smile widened.

There he was.

Alive enough to swear at him. Alive enough to look at Nero as though murder had become an entirely reasonable response.

Nero started across the road, stepping over fragments of glass scattered between them.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Sebastian’s voice tore through the smoke.

Nero kept walking.

"Have you completely lost your fucking mind?"

"You noticed."

Sebastian pushed himself away from the car, one hand moving toward his ribs when the motion clearly hurt him.

"You followed me halfway across the city and rammed your car into mine!"

"You kept driving."

The accusation left Nero before he bothered examining how irrational it sounded.

Sebastian stared at him.

Nero laughed.

He knew he should not have.

Nothing about this was remotely funny, and if Hale arrived within the next few minutes Nero was fairly certain the man would consider strangling the Crown Prince with his own damaged seat belt.

But Sebastian was standing there.

Nero had caught him.

The relief was so intense that it twisted into something dangerously close to amusement.

"You were very determined," he added.

Sebastian looked at him as though he had finally discovered the precise limit of human stupidity and Nero had personally crossed it.

Then something changed.

The anger remained, but Sebastian’s eyes shifted past him for a fraction of a second, focusing on something Nero could not see.

A fire cracked behind Nero where fuel had caught somewhere near the edge of the road.

Sebastian went pale.

Nero slowed.

"Sebastian?"

Sebastian stepped backward.

"No."

Nero stopped for half a breath.

The reaction was wrong.

Nero knew what Sebastian looked like in pain, angry, and what he looked like when an instinctive memory surfaced before he could hide it.

This was something else.

Nero moved toward him again.

Sebastian backed away faster.

"Stay the fuck away from me."

Nero stopped.

The words landed harder than the collision had.

For a moment, he simply looked at Sebastian.

The distance between them was only several meters, but suddenly it felt exactly like every year Nero had spent unable to reach him.

Something bitter moved through his chest.

"Are you still trying to run?"

Sebastian stared at him before a short, breathless laugh escaped him.

"Yes, Nero. That was the fucking point."

Nero’s jaw tightened.

Sebastian looked between the two ruined cars.

"What did you think would happen? That crashing into me would make me want to stay?"

"No."

Nero genuinely did not understand the question.

"It made the car stay."

Sebastian went completely still.

Nero gestured faintly toward the wreck behind him.

"You are much easier to catch without it."

"You could have killed me."

"I wouldn’t."

The certainty in Nero’s own voice surprised even him.

He had calculated the impact.

He had wrapped Sebastian in enough pheromonal force to hold his head, spine and chest stable. He had known the construction of the old car, known where to hit, known how much momentum the new vehicle carried.

Maybe there had been risk.

There was always risk.

But the idea of Sebastian dying because of Nero simply refused to exist inside his mind as a possible outcome.

His gaze moved over the blood at Sebastian’s temple and the darker fabric along his arm.

"I know how hard I can hit you."

Sebastian’s expression changed.

Nero heard his own words a second later. He smiled despite himself.

"That sounded worse out loud."

Sebastian did not smile back.

"Nero, for the love of God." His hand pressed harder against his side. "Please. I’m begging you. Stay away from me."

Nero tilted his head.

Begging.

The word pushed through everything else.

Sebastian had spent years refusing him calmly, elegantly, sometimes cruelly when Nero pushed too far.

Now he was begging.

Nero looked at the space between them and felt something inside him settle into a decision that probably should have frightened him more than it did.

"Well," he said, "if we’ve reached the begging already, we may as well deal with that first."

He lowered himself onto his knees.

The asphalt was still hot in places from the collision, and broken glass pressed beneath one knee, but neither sensation reached him with enough importance to matter.

Sebastian’s eyes widened.

Nero looked up at him.

His pale hair had come almost completely loose, several strands hanging across his face and sticking where blood had run from his temple. His chest hurt whenever he breathed, and one hand was scraped badly enough that blood had begun drying across the knuckles.

He did not care what he looked like.

He cared that Sebastian was still backing away.

"How much begging would make you stay, Sebastian?"

Sebastian did not answer.

His face had lost all its color.

Nero frowned slightly.

He lifted one hand to the collar of his shirt and undid the first button.

Sebastian inhaled sharply.

"No."

Nero paused.

The reaction was stronger than expected, but at least Sebastian was looking directly at him again.

So Nero opened another button.

"I don’t want your love, Sebastian."

That was not entirely true anymore, and they both knew it.

Years ago, perhaps.

Now Nero wanted everything.

Love, marriage, resentment, arguments, mornings, old age, every ugly domestic detail Sebastian was willing to give him.

But none of that mattered if the alternative was Sebastian disappearing.

"I’m not that delusional."