3

The night before the wedding, the house was too quiet.

Everyone had gone to bed early. The guests for the ceremony had begun arriving in town—military brass, family friends, people who never cared about Elian but suddenly wanted to smile and take pictures. The pressure of tradition weighed like lead over the whole house.

But Elian wasn’t thinking about that.

He was thinking about him.

Kael Thorne, who hadn’t touched him since the kiss. Hadn’t spoken much either. Just watched him. Guarded him. Drove him to school, picked him up, stood silently like a sentinel at every family dinner, looming and unreadable in his tailored black coats.

Elian couldn’t figure him out.

Not that it stopped his body from reacting every time Kael looked at him too long. Or said his name too low. Or brushed past him with the faintest touch that felt like a lightning strike under his skin.

Now, with the ceremony hours away, Elian stood in the guest room Kael had been staying in for the week.

Staring at the door.

Debating.

It was late. He should be asleep.

But something was pulling at him.

He knocked.

The door opened almost instantly, like Kael had been standing just behind it.

The man wore black again—loose cotton pants, a dark shirt that clung to his chest. No uniform tonight. No gloves. Just the raw, unarmored version of the man Elian couldn’t stop thinking about.

Kael didn’t say anything.

Elian looked up at him, throat dry. “Can I come in?”

Kael stepped aside wordlessly.

The door shut behind him with a soft click.

The room smelled faintly of Kael’s cologne. Dark, spiced, expensive. The kind of scent that lingered like a presence.

Elian turned, folding his arms over his chest.

“So…” he started. “Tomorrow.”

Kael gave a single nod.

Elian bit his lip. “You still sure?”

“I don’t do anything I’m not sure of,” Kael replied.

That low, even voice sent a shiver down Elian’s spine.

He hated how much he liked it.

“You haven’t really asked why I did this.”

“I assumed it was for your sister.”

Elian laughed—bitter and soft. “That’s part of it. But not all.”

Kael crossed the room, slow and deliberate, and stopped in front of him. “Then tell me.”

Elian looked up into those intense eyes and felt himself unraveling just a little.

“You walked in that day,” he whispered, “and I couldn’t breathe.”

Kael said nothing. He didn’t smile. Didn’t react.

Elian pressed on. “I kissed you because… I wanted to know what it would feel like to choose something reckless. Someone impossible. And now I can’t stop thinking about you.”

A long pause.

Then Kael’s hand reached up, fingers brushing lightly under Elian’s jaw.

“You don’t know what you’re playing with,” Kael said, voice almost tender—but heavy with warning.

“Then teach me.”

The air snapped.

Kael moved so suddenly Elian didn’t even have time to gasp. One second they were inches apart, and the next Kael had him backed against the wall, one strong hand beside his head, the other gripping Elian’s waist firmly.

“Say that again,” Kael murmured against his ear.

Elian’s breath hitched. “Teach me.”

Kael’s hand slid up his side. “You understand what that means, Elian?”

Elian nodded.

Kael’s lips ghosted the corner of his mouth. “No games. No backing out.”

“I don’t want to.”

Kael kissed him.

Properly this time.

No hesitation. No confusion.

Just heat.

Dominance.

Claiming.

Elian melted under it, arms wrapping around Kael’s shoulders as the man’s mouth moved with ruthless precision. Kael tasted like dark chocolate and fire. He kissed like a man who didn’t ask for permission—he took.

When Kael finally pulled back, Elian’s lips were swollen, his chest heaving.

“You’re mine tomorrow,” Kael said darkly. “But tonight…”

Elian stared at him, breathless. “Tonight?”

Kael leaned closer, nose brushing his cheek, lips at his ear.

“Tonight, I show you what belonging to me means.”

Kael stood in front of Elian, gaze dark, steady.

He reached out—fingers brushing the edge of Elian’s shirt, just above the waistband of his pants. He didn’t speak. Didn’t ask. His eyes did the asking.

Elian nodded once.

Kael’s hand slipped under the hem, slow and deliberate, fingertips skimming across warm skin. He pushed the fabric up inch by inch, dragging it over Elian’s trembling stomach, ribs, chest—until Elian raised his arms without a word, letting Kael peel the shirt away completely.

The cold air kissed his skin.

But Kael’s gaze burned hotter.

“Hold still,” Kael murmured.

Elian’s breath caught.

Kael stepped closer, hands at his sides now, moving slowly—one gliding over Elian’s collarbone, the other tracing the faint curve of his waist. He wasn’t rushing. He was memorizing.

“This body…” Kael whispered, voice like velvet scraped over stone. “It belongs to me now.”

Elian let out a shaky exhale. “Then claim it.”

Kael’s hands moved lower—fingers undoing the button of Elian’s jeans with a smooth flick, then slowly drawing the zipper down. The metal hissed, loud in the quiet room.

Every sound felt magnified.

Kael curled his fingers into the waistband and tugged—slowly easing the fabric down Elian’s hips. Elian gasped as his underwear followed, the slide of cotton dragging along his thighs, his knees, pooling finally at his ankles.

Kael didn’t move.

He just looked.

Elian was bare, stripped under that sharp, military gaze. He felt exposed, vulnerable—yet not humiliated. Kael wasn’t mocking him. He was consuming him with his eyes.

“You don’t look away,” Kael said softly. “You take it. You stand there and let me see everything. Because you’re proud to be mine.”

Elian’s heart pounded in his chest. “I am.”

Kael stepped forward again, his knuckles grazing the inside of Elian’s thigh, his touch maddeningly light. Elian shivered.

“Good boy.”

Kael leaned in, brushing his lips along Elian’s jaw, down to his throat, kissing softly—almost reverently.

Then he whispered:

“Lie down on the bed.”

Elian obeyed.

His skin buzzed with every breath as he lay there—naked, waiting, wanted.

Kael didn’t climb on top immediately. No—he stood beside the bed, eyes tracing every inch like he was studying his soon-to-be husband. A soldier committing to memory the map of his most sacred battlefield.

“Perfect,” Kael said under his breath.

Elian flushed.

Then Kael moved, slow and purposeful—crawling onto the bed like a panther closing in on prey, every muscle fluid, gaze locked with Elian’s as he hovered above him.

And when Kael kissed him again, it wasn’t rushed.

It was a promise.

One Elian would feel for the rest of his life.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***