Chapter 32: A Starved Man

Levi’s breath came uneven. His lips felt swollen, sensitive, marked by the force of what had just happened. He kept his hands curled in the front of Aaron’s shirt because he was not entirely certain the floor would stay solid if he let go.

Aaron’s eyes were dark, pupils blown, the usual restless temper replaced by clear confusion, and something else Levi couldn’t read. He looked like a man who had stepped too close to an edge and was now deciding, second by second, whether to lean forward or force himself back.

"That," Aaron finally spoke, voice low and rough, "was a mistake."

Levi felt a pang of hurt the second he heard those words. It hadn’t felt like a mistake to him, but if the second prince said so, who was he to argue with that?

Levi’s fingers slowly uncurled from the fabric. He smoothed the front of the shirt once, an automatic, useless gesture, and let his hands fall to his sides. The wall behind him felt too solid. The room felt too quiet.

"I know," he said calmly, doing his best to not give away the fact that he was hurt by those words.

Aaron’s jaw flexed. He braced one hand against the wall beside Levi’s head, not caging him exactly, but not giving him easy space either. The heat of his body still reached across the small gap. When he spoke again, the edge in his voice had softened.

"I didn’t bring you here for this."

"I know that too."

"I was trying to keep you away from Dexter’s study."

"I figured."

A breath of something almost like frustrated amusement left Aaron. He dropped his head for a moment, forehead nearly resting against Levi’s, then caught himself and straightened again. The restraint was visible..

Levi’s pulse had not slowed. Every place Aaron had touched, his cheek, his hair, his mouth, they all felt newly awake and inconvenient. The suppressants dulled the sharpest edges of the bond, but they did nothing for the simple, humiliating fact that he had kissed back. That he had held on. That part of him, had wanted the contact to continue.

He looked at a point somewhere near Aaron’s collarbone because looking higher felt like stepping onto thin ice.

"You should let me go," Levi said quietly. "Dexter’s hour isn’t going to wait."

Aaron’s free hand curled into a fist at his side, then slowly opened again.

"Dexter can wait."

"No," Levi argued. "He can’t, and neither can I. If I’m not there, he’ll come to the supervised wing and collect me in front of whoever is standing nearby. Your father will hear about it before midday. And whatever small amount of tolerance that is currently keeping me out of a cell will disappear."

It was the truth, he and Aaron both knew that, it was why it was such a simple excuse to use in order to leave this place. Aside from the first prince, Levi didn’t want to admit it, but he was slowly getting fond of the other two. He didn’t know if it was the bond, but it felt really awkward for a slave like him to be falling for his captives. He hated when he thought of it like that, yet here he was, caged in-between Aaron’s hands after a hot passionate kiss.

Aaron’s eyes closed briefly. When he opened them again, some of the heat had been banked, forced back under the familiar layers of temper and control..

"You’re supposed to be a servant," he said, and this time the reminder sounded less like a weapon and more like a man trying to remind himself of the rules. "And I’m a prince, none of this should be happening."

"I’m aware of that." Levi answered even though he probably shouldn’t have. He just wanted to leave, and as quickly as possible.

"Are you?" Aaron’s voice dropped further. "Because for a second there you kissed me like you’d forgotten it."

Levi felt heat climb the back of his neck. He had no clean answer that would not make the situation worse. So he kept quiet, and let the silence grow until it was too awkward for both of them.

Aaron finally pushed off the wall.

The loss of his nearness hit harder than Levi expected. Aaron dragged a hand through his own hair, exhaled once, roughly, and took another step back.

"If you walk into Dexter’s study," Aaron said, "he wins whatever game he’s playing today. And I—" He stopped, jaw tightening around whatever had almost followed. "I get to stand here knowing I let you go anyway."

Levi straightened from the wall. His legs felt more reliable than they had a minute ago. He smoothed the front of his own shirt, buying a second to steady his voice.

"I don’t have a better option."

"I know."

The admission cost Aaron something visible. He looked away, toward the locked door, then back at Levi with an expression stripped of most of its usual defensive fire.

"Go," he said finally. "Before I change my mind and do something that gets both of us buried under new orders."

Levi hesitated. Leaving felt like stepping off a ledge, and staying felt like inviting a different kind of disaster. But it was probably better he left, neither he nor Aaron were ready to cross any bridge yet, and it was better that way.

He moved to the door.

Aaron did not stop him. He watched, silent, every line of his body still wound tight with the effort of restraint. When Levi’s hand settled on the latch, the second prince spoke one last time, quieter than before.

"Levi."

Levi looked back.

Aaron’s eyes held his for a long moment. Whatever he wanted to say stayed locked behind his teeth. In the end he only shook his head once, a small, frustrated motion, and turned away toward the window.

"Watch the side corridors," he said to the glass. "And if Dexter puts another mark on you today, I will break his jaw."

The threat should have sounded like the old Aaron, but it only made Levi smile. Aaron would probably do what he said if Dexter marked him again, but Levi doubted that would be happening anytime soon.

Levi unlocked the door and stepped outside, closed the door carefully behind him, and stood for a second with his palm still flat against the wood, listening to the silence on the other side.

He forced his hand to drop, straightened his collar until the claim mark was hidden again, and started walking—away from the second prince who had kissed him like a man starving, and toward the third prince who had ordered his presence like a man already certain of ownership.