Chapter Seventeen

"Do you really hate me that much now?"

Aksel went still, his fingers gripping the glass of whiskey too tightly. The hour was late, the guests having returned to their rooms a few hours ago. He'd thought everyone else was long in bed by now.

"I don't know what you mean," Aksel said, setting the glass down and turning around.

Lucien was still wearing formal clothes from the dinner party, but he looked much more disheveled now, the top two buttons of his shirt undone and the collar askew, revealing his pale, unmarked throat.

Aksel looked away before looking into Lucien's eyes.

They were slightly glazed.

"Right," Lucien said with a snort. "And you making nice with my dearest daddy means nothing, of course." His voice was uncharacteristically hard.

"You're tipsy," Akselsaid, finally registering the bottle in Lucien's hand.

Lucien shrugged with one shoulder."Have you fucked him yet?" he said, stepping forward.

Aksel eyed him in silence.

"I haven't fucked your father," he said at last, deliberately obtuse. Had he been a better man, a kinder man, a more sober man, he wouldn't try to get a rise out of Lucien. But the rejected, wounded beast in him didn't want to be kind or understanding. It wanted to hurt, as much as Lucien had hurt him.

Lucien took another step forward. "Don't play dumb," he said, jabbing a finger into Aksel's chest. "You know who I mean."

Aksel looked down at the slender finger and then at its owner.

"Stop touching me," he said flatly, trying to ignore the way his heart was pounding and his blood was rushing south. It was infuriating, the way Lucien could arouse him without even trying while Aksel felt nothing when he was being flirted with and touched by the most beautiful omegas in the country—by his own fiancé.

"I'm not touching you!" Lucien bit out, jabbing his finger into his chest again. "Have you fucked my little brother yet?"

Aksel looked him in the eyes. "What is it to you? It's none of your business where I stick my cock, is it? You don't care."

Lucien lifted his chin. "That's right. I don't. You're my stepson. I don't care if you stick your cock in every omega in the country! Or every beta and alpha!"

Aksel imagined wrapping his hands around Lucien's pretty neck and strangling it. "You sure sound rattled for someone who doesn't care. Do you want me to tell you how good his cunt felt?"

Lucien flushed. "You—you! I hate you!"

Aksel put his hands on Lucien's shoulders. Felt him shudder.

"You're trembling," Aksel said, studying him carefully.

"From revulsion," Lucien said, lifting his chin.

"Revulsion," Aksel repeated before inhaling the sweet, intoxicating scent drifting from the omega. "That's not what revulsion smells like."

Lucien flushed. "It's just a physiological reaction to an alpha—any alpha. You're not special. I'd get wet for any alpha with a hard—"

Growling, Aksel shoved him against the wall. "Any alpha?"

"Yes!"

Aksel ground his cock against Lucien's. "If any cock will do, your stepson's is as good as any, right?"

Shuddering, Lucien shook his head, but his hips were writhing wantonly, riding the bulge in Aksel's pants.

Aksel stared at him, hating him, hating him so much, for the hold Lucien still had on his heart. It made him so angry. It made him want to be cruel.

"Does this make you feel dirty and disgusting?" he said, grinding his clothed cock between Lucien's legs. "Wanting your stepson's cock in you? It should. I can smell how sloppy your cunt already is."

Lucien whined, his face flushed, his eyes glazed.

Aksel flipped him around, pressing him to the wall with a hand on his back. "Strip," he said coldly, his tone like a whip.

For a moment, he thought Lucien would refuse. Aksel had never treated him this harshly outside of his rut before. Although he'd never treated him with kid gloves, he'd always tried not to be too rough during sex, mindful of Lucien's past.

He couldn't be gentle right now. He was too angry to be gentle. Too hurt.

But even as angry as he was, he still wouldn't force Lucien if he refused.

But Lucien didn't.

His hands trembling, he unzipped and yanked his trousers and underwear down before kicking them away.

"Present," Aksel bit out, staring hungrily at the perfect, smooth skin of Lucien's pert ass.

With a small whimper, Lucien arched his back, raising his ass obscenely.

Fuck.

Aksel couldn't wait anymore. Yanking his zipper down, he pulled his cock out and pressed the thick head against Lucien's fluttering, wet hole. Lucien whined, trying to get it inside, but Aksel didn't let him. Gripping his hip with his hand, he ground out, "Beg."

"I hate you," Lucien choked out.

"The feeling is mutual," Aksel said, wishing it were true. But it wasn't. And it made him even more cruel. "Now beg. Or I'll go stick it into your brother's—"

Lucien growled and, whirling around, shoved him hard.

Aksel tripped, more from surprise than the force of the push, and landed on his back. Between one blink and another, Lucien was on top of him and slamming down onto Aksel's cock."Mine," he snarled, burying his face in Aksel's throat and biting his scent gland hard. "Mine, mine, mine," he muttered deliriously, his wet hole squeezing Aksel's cock tightly as he rode him hard and fast.

Aksel groaned, his mind reeling from shock and arousal—and ugly, desperate hope.

He tried to speak, find out what Lucien meant, but he couldn't. It had been too long, too long since he'd felt the sweet tightness of Lucien's body around him. He couldn't control himself, couldn't control the shift. He felt his bones rearrange and his clothes rip as he shifted into his Xeus form, his cock thickening inside Lucien, making the omega whine. And then Aksel was flipping them and shoving Lucien under him, rutting into him like the beast he was. Matematemate sounded in his head as his hips snapped forward, driving into the sloppy wet hole of his omega.

Lucien was moaning non-stop, his eyes glassy with bliss, pushing back onto his cock like a slut, as though he was as starved for this as Aksel was. Aksel kissed him and Lucien kissed back, uncaring of his fangs and fur and rough tongue. He growled, rutting harder into him, Lucien's hole so slick it produced wet, obscene sounds on every hard thrust. It was filthy, fast, and too much, and Aksel knew it would be over far too soon.

"Knot me," Lucien begged, fingers digging into his back. "Wanna come on your knot."

And Aksel couldn't hold back anymore. He was coming, his knot growing inside Lucien until they were completely locked together. Lucien whined, his cock spilling on Aksel's stomach as his hole squeezed around Aksel's knot, milking him dry.

Fuck. So damn good.

"Missed you so much."

Aksel froze.

Lifting his head, he looked at the omega under him. Lucien's gaze was still unfocused, his pupils blown from the endorphins omegas' bodies released after being knotted by a compatible alpha. Right. He was high on the hormones. Anything he said in this state shouldn't be taken seriously.

"Darling," Lucien slurred out, tapping between Aksel's brows with a slim finger. "Why are you frowning? You'll get wrinkles. You're too young and handsome for that."

Aksel stared at him greedily, soaking up the gentle, affectionate expression in Lucien's eyes. A better man would ignore anything an omega said or did on his knot. He wasn't a better man. He wanted more.

"You missed me?" he said.

Lucien's lips folded into an endearing pout. "Always," he muttered, sounding completely out of it. "Wish I could live on your knot, under you. Miss you. Miss us."

Aksel's heart started pounding.

He doesn't mean anything he's saying , he tried to reason with himself. But it was futile. His starved body and heart didn't listen.

"You said you were disgusted by our relationship," he said.

His gaze glassy, Lucien shook his head absently, touching Aksel's lips with his fingers. "Love your mouth. Miss having it on my breasts. Need you always."

Aksel groaned, his cock spurting another jet of come inside the omega.

"I need you, too," he said hoarsely before he could stop himself.

Lucien's sweet scent became bitter. Sadder.

Were his eyes wet?

"No," Lucien whispered, his eyelids slipping shut. "You don't."

Aksel frowned. "What do you mean? Luce?"

But Lucien didn't answer, his breathing evening out.

Aksel watched him sleep, his gaze fixed on his lovely face while his mind raced with hundreds of thoughts—and doubts and hopes.

But as much as he would have liked to spend the rest of the night on top of Lucien, he knew it was too dangerous. They were not in the privacy of their rooms. The hour might be late, but anyone might come across them.

So as soon as his knot went down, Aksel carefully withdrew and fixed Lucien's clothes. His own clothes were ruined irrevocably by his shift.

He picked the omega up and headed toward Lucien's bedroom, listening for any sounds. With his superior hearing, he was confident he would hear someone approach before they could notice who he was carrying in his arms.

But to Aksel's relief, he didn't come across anyone on his way to Lucien's room.

He deposited the omega on his bed and looked at him for a long moment, fighting the nearly irresistible urge to climb into the bed, curl around him, and never let go.

But he needed to think.

He needed some distance away from Lucien and his mouthwatering pheromones to be able to think clearly, without his alpha instincts and alcohol clouding his judgment.

There was something off about Lucien's words—about his behavior.

He needed to figure out what.