Chapter 44: A Brief Conversation

Aaron did not give himself time to think. The moment Levi’s back disappeared under the archway toward the supervised wing, the second prince turned and started walking towards Elvis. By the time he reached the colonnade, his hands had already curled into fists.

Elvis had not moved.

The Eastridge Alpha stood where he had been when he watched them, posture easy, expression politely interested, as if he had simply paused to admire the stonework. Up close, the calm was worse. It had the quality of a man who had already decided the outcome of a conversation and was merely waiting for the other person to arrive at the same conclusion.

Aaron stopped a single pace too close for courtesy.

"I know what you did to him," he said without preamble. His voice came out low and almost threatening. "I know how you treated Levi before he left you. How you abused him for your own pleasure, and tried to control him. I think it’s best you stay away from him from this point forward. That is not a request."

Elvis’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. For a moment he only regarded Aaron in silence, as if sorting the words into categories of useful and irrelevant. Then he laughed, and the laughter only made Aaron angrier than he was supposed to.

"Bold," he said. "Especially coming from you."

Aaron’s jaw flexed. "Choose your next sentence carefully."

"Or what?" Elvis tilted his head, the same mild, proprietary calm he wore not fracturing a bit. "You’ll make a scene in your father’s stable yard while he is away inspecting borders? Please. Let’s speak plainly, prince. You’re not protecting Levi out of some pure, wounded outrage on his behalf. You’re circling him because your brothers already have their pieces on the board, and you cannot stand to be the one left without."

Aaron felt the rage rise clean and hot through his chest, into his arms, into the split knuckles that had not fully healed from the training post. He held it. Barely. The effort made the air between them feel thinner.

Elvis continued, almost gently.

"Dexter already claimed him. That mark sits on his throat whether your father likes it or not. Kai has the northern Luna and the political future of this territory sewn up in agreements and dinner conversations. And you—" his gaze moved over Aaron with faint, insulting assessment, "—what exactly do you have? A temper. A reputation. A bond that suppressants are already starving. You’re not trying to save him. You’re just trying not to be the leftover brother again."

The dig at inferiority slid between Aaron’s ribs with ugly accuracy. For a flash he was twelve again, standing in doorways that no one held open, watching attention and favor flow toward the heir and the marvel while the middle son learned to make noise simply to prove he existed. The old, familiar burn of it mixed with the newer, more specific fury of hearing Levi reduced to a prize in someone else’s argument about status.

He did not step back.

Elvis’s voice stayed soft, almost sympathetic.

"Stop trying so hard, It will not matter. The suppressants are doing their work. The pull you feel will thin, then fade, then become something you can ignore with enough effort and enough other bodies in your bed. When that is finished, I will still be here, and Levi will still be mine. He belonged to me before your house ever wrote his name in a ledger as payment. He will belong to me after your father’s rules and your brother’s claim and your own noisy attachment have all exhausted themselves. That is not a threat. It is simply the shape of the board."

Aaron moved before he could control himself.

He closed the remaining distance in one hard step, fistful of Elvis’s coat gathered in his hand, and drove the Eastridge Alpha back into the stone pillar hard enough that the impact echoed under the colonnade. The calm in Elvis’s expression finally flickered. Aaron leaned in until there was almost no air left between them, rage and hate boiling so hard inside him it almost felt painful.

"You’re doing a lot of talking for a man who is not even standing in his own territory," Aaron said, voice dropped to something close to a growl. "This is my house. That is my father’s land under your boots. Levi is under this roof’s protection whether you like the paperwork or not. You will not insult me again. If you do, I will not respond with another conversation."

For a second the two of them held there, sizing each other up with enough bloodlust to kill a man.

Then Elvis pushed back.

He was not as broadly built as Aaron, but he was an Alpha in his prime and he used leverage with cold efficiency. The shove broke Aaron’s hold and created a pace of space between them. Elvis straightened his coat with a small, precise tug, the polite mask reseating itself over whatever had briefly shown underneath.

"Focus on doing something useful with your life," he said, almost conversationally. "Whatever it is the middle son of this house does when he is not trying to steal back an omega who was never his. You have already lost this fight. You simply have not accepted the result yet."

He stepped out from the pillar, adjusted his cuff, and looked past Aaron toward the archway Levi had used.

"Give him my regards when the suppressants finish what your father started. I will be ready to collect what is mine."

With that, Elvis turned and walked away, leaving Aaron alone with his thoughts. He wasn’t in the mood for a fight, and he definitely wasn’t stupid enough to fight another Alpha in his territory.

Aaron did not follow. He stood with one hand still braced against the stone where Elvis’s shoulder had been, breath coming too fast, the rage finding no clean outlet. The dig about inferiority still burned, and the calm certainty with which Elvis had spoken of reclaiming made him even angrier.

Aaron pushed off the pillar, and finally took a deep breath to calm himself. He didn’t know when, where, or how, but he was certain that one day, he was going to kill that arrogant bastard.