Chapter 85: Missing Something

Chapter 85: Chapter 85: Missing Something

By the time Nero finished working, the rain had stopped.

The western study had grown warmer as afternoon light pushed through the thinning clouds, turning the wet gardens beyond the windows bright enough that the stone terrace reflected silver beneath the recovering sky.

Sebastian had abandoned his game nearly an hour earlier because watching Nero work had become substantially more entertaining.

Idris closed the final document on his tablet, reviewed the amended schedule one last time, and rose from the chair opposite the desk with the composed expression of a man who had survived several hours of royal administration without developing a visible headache.

"The revised itinerary will be circulated within the hour, Your Highness."

Nero was signing the last authorization.

"Move anything nonessential next week if it conflicts with Sebastian’s examinations."

Sebastian looked over from the armchair he had migrated to after his legs became stiff on the couch.

"You are aware I am not dying anymore."

Nero did not look up.

"I am."

"That sounded unconvinced."

"I am merely planning intelligently."

Idris collected his tablet.

Sebastian watched him round the desk, expecting the usual polite farewell.

Instead, Idris stopped near the door and looked directly at him.

It was a long look.

Very long.

Sebastian frowned.

Idris’s pale blue eyes moved once toward Nero, then returned to Sebastian.

There was only one possible translation.

Run.

Sebastian’s eyebrows rose.

Idris opened the door.

"Good afternoon, Lord Fitzgeralt."

"Idris."

The secretary left.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Sebastian stared after him for several seconds.

"That was ominous."

Silence answered.

Sebastian slowly turned his head.

Nero had stopped working.

The stylus rested beside the final document, all three tablets were locked, and the secure terminal had already gone dark.

He was watching Sebastian.

There was nothing subtle about it.

Sebastian leaned farther into the armchair.

"Why did Idris look at me like he was abandoning a civilian population before an incoming disaster?"

Nero rose.

At his height, the movement transformed the atmosphere of the room rather quickly.

He buttoned one cuff that had come loose during the meeting, then walked around the desk with the unhurried confidence of a man who had absolutely nowhere else to be now that his responsibilities had been handled.

Sebastian tracked him.

"You’re smiling."

"I frequently smile."

"Not like that."

Nero said nothing.

That was worse.

Sebastian considered standing, but his body had only recently stopped protesting extended periods upright, and retreating from Nero inside his own temporary medical prison would be humiliating.

So he remained where he was.

Nero passed the side of the chair.

Sebastian turned slightly.

The prince disappeared behind him.

"Nero."

Two large hands settled against the upholstered arms on either side of Sebastian.

There it was.

Sebastian sighed.

Nero leaned down slowly, white-blond hair slipping over one shoulder until several strands brushed Sebastian’s cream sweater.

His body never actually pinned him.

The placement of his arms caged Sebastian neatly within the chair while Nero lowered himself until his face reached the side of Sebastian’s neck.

A warm breath touched his skin.

Sebastian felt his own shoulders relax before he could stop them.

Nero’s nose brushed beneath Sebastian’s ear, then again, slower this time.

Sebastian tilted his head slightly to give him room.

That was apparently all the encouragement Nero required.

He nuzzled deeper into Sebastian’s neck with a quiet, satisfied exhale, breathing him in despite the fact that Sebastian’s developing pheromonal scent remained faint enough that most people could barely detect it.

Nero could.

Sebastian suspected Nero could find him by scent through several walls at this point.

"You’ve been staring at me all afternoon," Nero murmured against his skin.

Sebastian looked toward the windows.

"I was bored."

"Mm."

Sebastian exhaled.

Nero’s nose traced slowly along the line beneath his ear before settling near the restructuring glands hidden beneath Sebastian’s skin.

The contact was careful there.

Sebastian’s fingers loosened around the phone resting in his lap.

He should probably object.

A few weeks earlier, he certainly would have.

Now, however, he understood that Nero needed this.

Not merely the possessive satisfaction of having Sebastian within reach, although there was plenty of that.

Since the episode, Nero touched him constantly.

A palm against his back when they walked.

Fingers around his wrist when his monitoring sensor vibrated.

An arm around him in bed.

His face against Sebastian’s neck whenever they were alone long enough for the prince to stop pretending that simply seeing him was enough.

Sebastian had stopped resisting.

Partly because he understood. Partly because he liked it.

Nero’s pheromones began spreading around the chair, the familiar scent of smoke and burning wood settling warm and dense over Sebastian’s shoulders.

"You’re needy today," Sebastian said.

Nero kissed the side of his neck.

"I have been deprived."

"You slept attached to me."

"Six hours ago."

"That is not deprivation."

"For me, apparently it is."

Sebastian smiled.

The answer was ridiculous.

The man saying it was worse.

He reached up and threaded his fingers into the loose section of Nero’s hair near his temple.

Nero went still for half a second.

Sebastian almost laughed.

There were certain things the prince could apparently do without hesitation—threaten governments, reorganize military schedules, manipulate political alliances, invade Sebastian’s bed permanently—but being touched affectionately at unexpected moments still produced a tiny pause that Sebastian had begun to find deeply satisfying.

"You can stay there," Sebastian said.

Nero’s mouth curved against his skin.

"How generous."

"I can change my mind."

"You won’t."

Sebastian tugged lightly on his hair.

Nero grinned.

There he was.

The prince’s restraint had been returning steadily over the previous days, along with the arrogance, humor, and shameless possessiveness Sebastian had almost missed while Nero was frightened enough to become unnaturally quiet.

Nero shifted his weight, keeping both hands planted beside Sebastian while lifting his face enough to study him.

Sebastian turned his head.

Their faces were close now.

Far too close for innocence.

Nero’s violet eyes moved over him slowly, taking in the cream sweater, the open neckline, and the exposed skin above it with an expression Sebastian recognized immediately.

"No."

Nero blinked.

"I haven’t said anything."

"Your face has."

His grin widened.

Sebastian regretted teaching him nothing about restraint.

Nero lowered his gaze toward Sebastian’s throat again.

Then he became strangely thoughtful.

Sebastian watched the shift.

"What?"

Nero tilted his head.

"You know what’s missing?"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

"From what?"

Nero’s eyes remained fixed on his neck.

Sebastian followed the direction of his attention and immediately became suspicious.

"What?"

Nero looked back at him.

His smile turned slow.

"A collar."