Chapter Seven

We have never been friends, Luce.

Over the next few weeks, Aksel's words kept replaying in Lucien's head whenever he didn't have anything else to occupy his mind.

What had Aksel meant? Was he right?

Were they not friends now, either?

Frankly, Lucien couldn't answer that question.The problem with being friends with Aksel… it wasn't easy to define their relationship. It had always been a little too intense, with no healthy boundaries or firm definitions of their respective roles. Lucien's attachment to Aksel had always been complex, layered with different kinds of love and need. Despite him being older, he had often felt like Aksel was his big brother, someone to look up to, someone who could protect him. But other times, when Lucien remembered the way it had felt to nurse Aksel, the exquisite intimacy of providing him with what he needed, he thought his love for Aksel might be of a different kind. Which made him feel embarrassed and off balance, considering what Aksel had confessed. God, what a mess. Their relationship was a mess of epic proportions.

And yet, he seemed incapable of staying away from Aksel, despite the confusion he felt.

Whenever Aksel was home, Lucien felt it. He could feel him all the way across the huge mansion. It was like gravity. Inescapable. Impossible to fight or pull away from. Sometimes Aksel was the one who sought him out, but sometimes it was Lucien who couldn't stand any distance between them.

It didn't help that regardless of Aksel's words that he wouldn't push him, he was still as terrible at boundaries as he had been as a teenager. And it definitely didn't help that Lucien was as bad at saying no to him as he used to be.

To Lucien's dismay, it was ridiculously easy to fall back into old habits. Into bad habits.

While their adult obligations prevented them from spending all their time with each other, as they used to, Aksel seemed to gravitate toward him whenever he was free. He didn't work regular hours—after the end of the war, Aksel had been assigned to the Opal House's elite special forces team, and worked only when he was needed by the government. With Lucien working from home, they ended up in each other's company more often than was probably advisable. But they weren't doing anything wrong.Lucien had everything under control. They were just friendly.

Very friendly.

Still, he probably shouldn't be allowing this .

"Aksel," he chided, looking exasperatedly at the alpha all over him. Aksel hadn't even said anything when he'd arrived: just stretched out on the couch half on top of him, laid his head on Lucien's stomach, and closed his eyes. "I'm trying to work."

"Then work," Aksel said, without opening his eyes. "I'm not in the way."

Lucien squirmed a little. He could feel the prickliness of Aksel's facial hair even through the thin fabric of his shirt. It was... oddly distracting. He kept fixating on that, idly wondering what Aksel's beard would feel like on his skin without the fabric in the way.

He shook his head, bewildered. What a strange thought.

"It's difficult to focus with you here," Lucien said, returning his gaze to his tablet—to his plan for his next lesson. "And your head is heavy." And my brain gets all slow and weird when your scent is all I can smell.

"A few minutes. And then I'll go."

Don't , he nearly blurted out.

Wincing, Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose. How was he supposed to set some proper boundaries between them when a part of him didn't want any boundaries or space?

"Did something happen, Aksel?"

"Just a bad day at work. I need to de-stress."

Lucien frowned. "What happened?"

Aksel's wide shoulders moved in a shrug as he shoved his face even tighter against Lucien's belly, as if he wanted to crawl into it. "Another day, another Xeus attempting to attack the prime minister. Nothing new."

Lucien pressed his lips together. Prime Minister Taube's disgusting prejudice against Xeus alphas was well known. Unfortunately, he got more approval for his views than hate.

"You must loathe it..." He ran his fingers through Aksel's hair gently. "Protecting a bigot who doesn't deserve protection. Working for him must be hell."

Aksel made a noncommittal noise. "He's no different from most people. You learn to ignore it."

It made Lucien's heart ache. No one should learn to ignore hatred and bigotry.

"Besides, I work for the Opal House, not him personally."

Lucien shook his head. He knew Aksel was downplaying it. Aksel wouldn't need to de-stress like this if the events of the day hadn't gotten to him. He could only imagine what it felt like, to be forced to protect a man who despised him for what he was—a man he despised too.

"Hopefully Royce becomes the next prime minister, and you won't have to deal with Taube anymore."

Aksel just hummed, but he didn't need to say anything for Lucien to pick up the unsaid words: it wouldn't matter. For every good person like Royce, there would always be ten bigots. It was so fucking unfair.But they didn't live in a fair world.

"You don't need to work if you don't want to," Lucien said. Aksel's job for the government was very high paying, but the Cleghorns were ridiculously wealthy. Aksel didn't need to work a day in his life if he were so inclined.

A chuckle. "Neither do you."

"It's different," Lucien said, pulling a face. "I'm not really a Cleghorn."

"Don't be stupid," Aksel said, his thumb slipping under Lucien's shirt and stroking the bottom of his belly. "You're pack."

"Everyone knows my marriage to your father was a sham," Lucien said. His stomach was quivering. His body felt overly warm.

"It doesn't matter. You're—ours. You're entitled to the money my father left for you."

"I don't feel like I earned that in any way." Lucien knew Vagrippa resented him for inheriting such a big sum for doing nothing.

Aksel made a harsh sound. "And earning it on your back for my father would have made a difference?"

"Don't be gross," Lucien said, making a face. The others in the family had treated him like a sexless, fragile thing for so long that he'dforgotten how crude Aksel's language could be with him.

Aksel lifted his gaze. "You know I'm right. If your marriage had been real, that's the only thing you would have done to ‘earn' the money."

"A mate does more than that," Lucien said. He felt flustered and uncomfortable, and he both hated it and loved it. Aksel was the only person who made him feel a wide range of emotions, the only person who pushed him out of his comfort zone. It was maddening but oddly exhilarating too. His life had been so safe and dull for years that being thrown off balance and flustered actually felt good, in a twisted way.

"Yes," Aksel agreed. "A mate also cares for the pack's young. Which you did." His gaze dropped to Lucien's chest, heavy- lidded and unreadable. "You breastfed Belinda. And then there was me, for months."

His face burning, Lucien barely suppressed the urge to cover his chest with his hands.

"Maybe," he croaked out, and desperately tried to search for another subject. A safer, less confusing subject. "But it doesn't matter. I won't touch the money Garrick left for me. It doesn't feel right."

"All right," Akselconceded, his expression inscrutable. "I understand why you would feel that way about my father's money. But you still don't have to work. You're an omega of a prosperous pack with alphas who can provide for you."

Lucien made a face. "I feel no different about accepting money from Royce than I felt about accepting it from Garrick."

"What about me?" Aksel's blank expression shifted into something different. His blue, intense eyes seemed to look right into Lucien's soul. His voice dropped. "I could take care of you."

Lucien's stomach clenched.

There should have been no difference between Royce and Aksel for him. They both were alphas, both were the sons of his deceased husband. In fact, it was more socially acceptable to allow Royce to provide for him: he was the eldest son and he oversaw the family's finances. Aksel's share was significant, of course, but he had little patience for stuff like that, allowing his brother to manage and invest his money on his behalf. Xeus alphas tended to prefer active physical work to desk work, and Aksel was no different. His inheritance aside, his job as a captain in the government's elite special forces was very high paying. He could provide for an omega on his salary alone, easily. He could provide for a dozen of omegas if he wanted to.But Aksel was Lucien's husband's younger son. Accepting his help should have been weirder than accepting Royce's.

It wasn't.

Something inside Lucien liked the idea of Aksel taking care of him. It didn't feel strange or embarrassing. It felt… good .

"Society is changing," Lucien said stiffly, confused and mortified by his feelings on the matter. "Omegas don't need to be provided for by an alpha. I can take care of myself."

"Of course you can," Aksel said. "But you don't have to. That's my point." His eyes bored into Lucien's, his thumbs pressing harder against Lucien's belly. "You didn't answer. Would you accept my money?"

There was a weird inflection to Aksel's words, and Lucien had the strangest feeling they were talking about something else, not money.

"I don't need your money, Aksel," he said, his stomach quivering under Aksel's head.

"It's not a question of need," Aksel said, still holding his gaze intently. "I want you to know that you can always count on me—now and in a hundred years."

Lucien stared at him, his insides growing warm. It was a nice sentiment, however unrealistic it was.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said with a wry smile. "In a hundred years, you'll have a giant family of your own to take care of. An old omega who was once married to your father will be at the bottom of your priorities." And never mind that the thought brought a strange surge of panic inside him. It was stupid. Of course Aksel—and his siblings—would eventually acquire their own families: children, grandchildren. Mates. Royce had married recently.Aksel would be next.

Lucien looked away, disconcerted by how much the idea unsettled him. It was probably natural to feel left behind when the others in the family married, but still, he'd never thought he was that bitter. He'd thought he was a better person than that.

"You're the one being ridiculous if you really think that," Aksel said. Pushing Lucien's shirt up, he nuzzled his bare belly.

Lucien squirmed self-consciously, trying to yank his shirt down. Although he was relatively in shape, he didn't have the flat stomach and sculpted abs of young omegas Aksel's age. His bone structure was narrow, but he had more body fat than he would have liked. His stomach was a little soft and his breasts and buttocks embarrassingly plump. Although Lucien no longer felt disgusted by his body, he still didn't like it, and he usually wore loose clothes to conceal the curves. He didn't want anyone to see what was under his clothes.

But Aksel completely ignored his feeble attempts to push his head away and yank down his shirt, nuzzling Lucien's bare stomach in a way that was... that was... as if it were a religious experience. Lucien could barely watch it, his stomach quivering.

"Fuck, I missed your skin..." Aksel kissed his belly button. "So damn soft. Just gorgeous."

Lucien blushed. His face wasn't the only part of him that felt warm—his chest did too. He'd forgotten how good Aksel could make him feel about himself. With Aksel, he never felt lacking or disgusting. Aksel was always blunt and brutally honest, to the point of rudeness. He'd never lie to make Lucien feel better about himself. Lucien loved that about him.

"I need to lose some weight," Lucien said, clearing his throat a little.

Aksel scoffed, his grip on his waist tightening. "Don't you dare," he said, rubbing his face against Lucien's belly, his beard creating delicious tingles all over it. "You're perfect as you are."

Lucien laughed. This again. "Hardly."

Before Aksel could say anything, someone cleared their throat.

Lucien froze.

Turning his head, he found Vagrippa staring at them from the doorway, her lips thin with disapproval.

"Aksel, I was looking for you," she said sharply.

Aksel turned his head to look at his mother, but the movement was almost lazy. He didn't remove his head from Lucien's stomach. "Why?" he said, without much inflection in his voice.

His mother didn't seem pleased by his lack of attention. "I wanted to speak to you. In private."

"You can speak to me here," Aksel said in the same uninterested tone.

Vagrippa glared at Lucien, as if it were his fault.

Lucien tried not to squirm under her gaze. Vagrippa never failed to make him feel like he was still the fourteen-year-old kid intruding on her family.

As if feeling his discomfort, Aksel tensed up, his gaze sharpening as he studied Lucien for a moment. "On second thought, I'll speak to you later, Mother," he said, without looking away from Lucien.

"But—"

"I said later," Aksel snapped, his scent flaring.

Vagrippa flinched and instinctively stepped back, out of the room. "Very well," she said, once she recovered her wits. Her tone was very dignified, but Lucien didn't miss that she was angry. It would be hard to miss.

"You shouldn't antagonize her," Lucien said with a sigh once the sound of her footsteps faded.

Aksel shrugged. "I'm not antagonizing her. She just needs to learn that I'm not Royce. I don't have the patience to tolerate her overbearingness. The sooner she realizes that I'm not someone she can manage, the better it is for everyone involved."

Lucien looked at him thoughtfully beforetouching Aksel's hair."I know her attitude toward you being a Xeus was... not the best when you were a child," Lucien said. "But she loves you."

Aksel's lips twisted.

"Darling, she does," Lucien said and cringed inwardly. He didn't know why it was so easy to use endearments with Aksel. After nearly eight years apart, this man should have felt like a stranger. After what Aksel had confessed—that he desired him physically—Lucien should have felt uncomfortable and uneasy in his presence. But he didn't . There was still no other person in the world who made him feel so safe, cared for, and comfortable.

"I'm sure she does," Aksel said. "And I do love her—she's my mother—but I don't care for her attitude toward you. It makes me like her less."

Well. Hopefully the expression on Lucien's face wasn't as adoring as he felt.

"Don't be cross with her on my behalf," Lucien said with a crooked smile. "I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't be used to it," Aksel ground out, his eyes flashing. "You're amazing, the kindest person I know." He nuzzled his bare stomach. "I feel fucking unworthy touching you, like I'm dirtying you up. You're beautiful, inside and out. You shine from within, Luce."

Lucien blinked a few times, his heart so full with affection and gratitude he didn't know what to do with his emotions. He wanted—he wanted to thank him for his words—he wanted Aksel closer—he wanted to give him something—he wanted—he wanted...

His breasts suddenly felt heavy, the tips aching. He wanted... he wanted Aksel's mouth on them, sucking his milk and relieving the ache... God, he craved the intimacy of it.

Lucien shook his head dazedly, trying to snap out of it. He was being ridiculous; he didn't have milk, hadn't had for years. There wasn't any milk for Aksel to drink. And it was beyond weird to want to breastfeed a grown alpha twice his size. But fuck, the tips of his breasts ached for Aksel's mouth. That had to mean that he wanted to nurse him, right? What else could it mean?

"What is it?" Aksel said, as attuned to him as ever. "You're tense." He tensed up too. "Does my touch bother you?"

"No," Lucien said. "It's just... My chest feels heavy, like I have milk again, and it's weird. I stopped lactating years ago."

Aksel stared at him strangely.

He cleared his throat, and then cleared it again."Show me."

Lucien's body was already moving before he could think twice.He lifted his shirt up, baring his breasts to Aksel's gaze.

Aksel wet his lips with his tongue.

The ache in Lucien's nipples got worse.Frowning, Lucien touched the left one and squeezed, just to see if there was any milk. But there was none. He wasn't lactating. It was all in his head.

"This is so strange," he said, feeling lost.

Aksel took in an audible breath. "Does it hurt?" he said, his eyes fixed on Lucien's chest.

"No—sort of? There's this ache like I want—like I want..." God, this was the single most embarrassing conversation in his life, but the disconcerting heaviness and ache were worsening under Aksel's gaze.

Lucien looked at Aksel's mouth, hoping he would understand what he meant without him having to say that.

Aksel's throat moved. He licked his lips again. "I'm trying to be a better man here, Luce," he said.

When Lucien shot him a confused look, Aksel groaned and buried his face against Lucien's belly again, breathing hard, his wide shoulders heaving as if he'd run a grueling marathon.

"Aksel?"

"Surely you can't be this innocent and pure, Luce."

Lucien blinked before laughing. "Pure? I'm definitely not pure, darling."

Aksel glowered at him, his hands flexing on Lucien's sides. "What those assholes did to you when you were a kid isn't relevant. You're innocent and pure. Too pure for your own good."

Lucien didn't argue, knowing that it was useless arguing with Aksel on the subject. "I don't understand what my purity—or lack thereof—has to do with this." He gestured to his aching, sensitive chest.

Aksel pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Your body wants sex," he said bluntly.

Lucien stared at him. "What? I—that can't be true. I would know if it were true, wouldn't I?"

Aksel's expression became tight. "You're on strong suppressants, have been for years. It seems you know nothing about your body and its needs. Trust me, what you're feeling is arousal."

"But..." Lucien squirmed. "I don't—I don't want you that way." He couldn't . Aksel was absolutely off-limits. Lucien couldn't want him that way. He simply couldn't.

Aksel's face hardened. For a long moment, he didn't say anything.

"Desire for sex is a physical need," he finally said, his voice toneless. "It has little to do with the person you're with. I'm not taking this personally." His gaze shifted to Lucien's bare chest, and a muscle jumped in his firm jaw. "Your tits don't have milk. They ache because you want to be touched and get off. It's as simple as that."

Lucien shook his head dazedly. "But I'm not—I'm not hard," he said. "I almost never get hard. You're supposed to get hard when you're aroused." That much he knew. He wasn't entirely clueless.

Aksel's expression became even more pained. "You're an omega. Getting hard is a secondary sign of arousal for you. And after decades on strong suppressants you might have erectile dysfunction. It means nothing." He met Lucien's gaze. "Do you get slick?"

His eyes wide, Lucien spluttered, "That's—hardly an appropriate subject of conversation!"

A wry, humorless smile touched Aksel's lips. "And showing your tits to an alpha and saying that they ache is?"

Lucien flushed. When Aksel put it that way, his behavior was terribly indecent. But this was Aksel . It wasn't as though he'd never seen him topless. "You're not just any alpha," Lucien said uncomfortably. "It's different."

Aksel's expression was strange. "Right. So answer me, then. Do you get slick?"

"Sometimes," Lucien said, barely able to meet his eyes. "Not often. Usually around my heats. Suppressants can't entirely suppress it."

"Right," Aksel said, clearing his throat a little. "And do you do something about it? Do you masturbate?"

Lucien's face was on fire. "Aksel!"

Aksel shrugged, his eyes glinting. "I'm just Aksel, remember? I don't count. You can be honest with me, Luce."

God, this was mortifying.

"No," Lucien replied stiffly. "I don't touch myself."

Aksel made a strange noise, half-exasperation, half-pain. "Then of course you're worked up,"he said, looking at some point above Lucien's shoulder. "Your body is starved for touch. It wants what it wants." He looked back at Lucien's bare chest, his gaze dark, almost haunted. "You've been neglecting your body's needs for too long. It's not healthy to treat yourself like a sexless thing when you are not."

Lucien shook his head. "That's—I still think you're wrong—"

"For fuck's sake," Aksel snapped, his eyes flashing a supernatural blue. "You want me to prove it to you? I can prove it to you."

Before Lucien realized what he meant, Aksel leaned down and latched onto his right nipple, sucking hard.

Gasping, Lucien arched his back off the couch, a sharp sensation of pain-pleasure shooting through his body. The maddening ache in his nipple was finally gone, replaced by… It felt... it felt so good. So unbelievably good.

"Oh God," Lucien whispered breathlessly, burying his fingers in Aksel's thick hair. "Oh God."

Aksel sucked on his nipple for what felt like forever and not long enough. When he finally let go of it, Lucien whined and pushed Aksel's head back to his nipple.

Aksel obliged, sucking on it hungrily, his large hand kneading the other breast. It felt heavenly. A pleasure this intense shouldn't be possible… it felt so good, the intimacy of it exquisite.

Lucien moaned in protest when Aksel pulled off his nipple.

"Don't stop," he gasped out, pulling him back to his breast. Part of him was mortified by his wanton behavior, but it was a small, distant part. His body overruled it, craving to feel Aksel's hot, perfect mouth on his aching teats.

Groaning, Aksel resumed sucking, alternating between his nipples, and then his large hands pushed them close so that he could take both into his mouth at the same time.

God.

Lucien writhed under him, his vision hazy, moans leaving his mouth non-stop, his legs instinctively spreading.

Aksel was growling, his hips grinding between Lucien's in a rhythm that was all animal want. His alpha scent was so potent now it was going to Lucien's head despite his suppressants, and he wanted—he wanted . The ache between his legs was maddening, growing worse with every moment. He instinctively knew Aksel could make it better, he could make it go away, relieve the ache and the horrible hollowness inside him.

A voice at the back of his mind was screaming at him to stop, stop this madness before it went too far, but hadn't Aksel said that it was just a physical need that he'd been neglecting? It didn't have to mean anything, right?

His thoughts came to a screeching halt as Aksel slipped a hand under the waistband of Lucien's sweatpants, cupping his half-hard cock for a moment and then moving down, to the horribly achy place between Lucien's legs.

"Fuck, you're so wet," Aksel bit out, stroking his slippery, oversensitive hole.

Lucien whined, grinding against Aksel's hand helplessly, all but riding it. He needed this, he needed this so much.

Aksel massaged his hole in maddening circles, stroking it harder and faster, his mouth relentless on Lucien's nipples, and it took Lucien less than a minute of that to come all over Aksel's hand, his hole squirting slick as he orgasmed with a long, shameless moan.

Lucien sagged back against the couch, breathing hard, his glazed eyes staring at the ceiling unseeingly.

God, he hadn't known it was possible to feel so good.

" This is what your body wanted," Aksel said, his voice so low and hoarse it barely sounded like a man's.

Lucien wanted to hide his face in his hands and never meet his eyes.

He also wanted to push Aksel back to his breasts and beg him to pleasure him again.

Fuck.