"No." Elian looked away, "I want nothing from you, your grace."

Lucien swallowed hard, unaware that a simple answer could lodge a heavy stone between his chest.

"You want nothing from me?" He asked, his hand lowering g from Elian’s chin, "Look what he did to you... the one you want–"

"I did it to myself. I asked to ride a horse alone for the first time. Rowan didn’t hurt me, he saved me." He defended.

Lucien gritted his teeth so hard that his jaws hurt, "You’re as naive as you look. No one is to be trusted, Elian, or do you forget who you are?" He questioned.

Elian smiled dryly, "not everyone has an evil agenda like you do." He muttered.

Lucien didn’t respond, he turned away, pulling his gloves off his hand and placing them on top of the drawer.

He stood like that for a while, making Elian wonder what was going on in his head. Finally, he turned, face as calm as the still water.

"You will not leave my sight without my permission, Elian. I mean it," he said, reaching out a hand toward Elian.

"Your grace?" Elian gasped, moving back before Lucien clukd touch him.

"What are you doing?" He asked cautiously.

Lucien sighed, "Do you plan to sleep looking like a mad man?" He gestured to the torn shirt and the twist hanging all over his curls.

"No," Elian shook his head, "I will clean myself in my room." He replied.

"Show me," Lucien said, watching Elian patiently like he had all the time in the world.

Elian stared at his buttons, and then at his bandaged wrist. His brows knitted together as realisation dawned on him: he woukd not be able to wash himself with just one hand.

But he wasn’t about to let Lucien help him with that either.

Bringing his left hand to his collar, he tried to unbutto his shirt. His thumb would grab the small round object, trying to push it out through the opening, but just as he almost succeeded, the button easily slipped back into place.

He did this for a couple of time, his cheeks flushing red with embarrassment as he felt Lucien watching him closely.

He was about to give it another try when Lucien’s larger hand covered the back of his hand.

"Enough," Lucien said, taking away Elian’s hand from his collar, he was careful so he didn’t touch the truth seeker’s palm.

Letting Elian learn his secrets was something that would never happen. Ever.

"You’re useless with one hand," Lucien muttered, taking his time to undo Elian’s button with ease.

Elian gulped, each graze of Lucien’s knuckles against his chest sent a jolt of spark traveling through his skin.

"You’re shivering... cold?" Lucien asked, pulling the shirt off from one hand to the other, voice lowered to a dangerous timber.

"N-no... I’m fine," Elian stammered, not meeting Lucien’s gaze.

Lucien hummed in response. The moment jis eyes dropped to Elian’s shirtless upper body is breath hitched slightly, pulse, spiking rapidly. He knew he should stare, but he couldn’t help it.

Having Elian in front of him after a whole day of missing his presence was doing things to his thoughts and body... things that might make Finn’s speculation come to pass.

"I..." Elian tried to speak but swallowed his words, the intensity in Lucien’s eyes was making him feel heady and warm.

He suddenly felt like he couldn’t stand, needing something to hold him up, preferably, Lucien’s arms.

"I’m... I should head back to my room. Thank you for helping with my buttons," Elian mustered courage and spoke, ignoring that voice in his head screaming at him to beg tge Duke to kiss him.ine more time.

He couldn’t do that to himself, not after how he was walked out and humiliating. Not after how he was treated like a sin the next morning. He couldn’t, he was already suffering enough to add more burdens to himself.

"I never saud I was done," Lucien said, his hand slowly sliding from Elian’s shoulder down to his injured wrist.

Elian visibly shuddered, "Please..." He wasn’t really sure what he was begging for, "Let me go."

Lucien scoffed softly, "You can’t unbutton a shirt... how are you going to wash yourself..." his eyes went to Elian’s hair, "and pick these twigs off your hair."

Elian tried to step away but suddenly went completely still as Lucien’s bare hand slid to his waist, firm, determined... grounding.

"Don’t move," Lucien whispered, his thumb drawing lazy circles over Elian’s smooth skin on his waist.

Tears welled up in Elian’s eyes. Tears of frustration because he hated that he wanted it, and tear of fear as he wondered exactly what woukd happen in he dared listen to that voice in his head.

"I’m going to take off your pants, Elian... I’m washing you myself." Lucien said huskily, his eyes on Elian’s face as his hand moved to his zipper, waiting to any signs of refusal.

Seeing none, he caught the zipper between his thumb and index finger, ready to drag it down.

"I can do that..." Elian suddenly stepped away from Lucien, breathing hard.

He bad a very huge problem.

He couldn’t let Lucien see that problem, it would defy everything he stood for in frint if Lucien. He just can’t.

Lucien watched Elian’s panicked face with disturbing calmness, his eyes lowering for a moment before he nodded.

"Get in there, get naked, get in the bath," Lucien ordered, turning away to search for something in his closet.

Elian didn’t wait ti be told twice, he quickly moved, entering Lucien’s spacious washroom. He was surprised to find two baths instead of one, he remembered correctly that it was ine the last time he was there.

One was filmed with bubble water, and the other was filled with clear, clean water, and from the steam comming ff both surfaces, he could tell they were warm. Immedietly, he unzipped his pants before Lucien would walk in and find him still standing.

As his pants fell off his waist, he stared at the evidence of his unspoken desires hanging between his legs... throbbing from lack of attention.

He heard footsteps behind the door and quickly kicked his pant away, having no time to pick and place it properly. Carefully, he climbed onto the bath, steadying himself with his good hand as he sank down into bubble water.

A soft sigh left his lips as the warm, soapy water wrapped around his aching body, soothing the soreness from his muscles little by little. His wrist might be the only visible wound, but his body did ache from falling off a horse.

The washroom carried Lucien’s scent everywhere—dark sandalwood, smoke, cold cedar, and something dangerously masculine beneath the steam. And everything was relaxing for Elian.

Elian let the back of his head rest against the smooth rim of the bath, a tired sigh slipping from his lips as the warmth soaked into his aching muscles. His wrapped wrist was placed carefully on the rim, away from the water.

But his relaxation didn’t last long.

Lucien entered the washroom, walking over to Elian with predatory steps.

Elian slowly sat up, his good hand diving into the water to cover his growing arousal. He was thankful for the bubbles, Lucien won’t get to see it if he didn’t tell or show him, which of course, he won’t.

Lucien stopped by the bath and lowered himself beside it, a soft cloth in his hand.

Without speaking, he placed the cloth flat on the water in front of Elian’s chest, watching it soak and sink. Then, he leaned closer, his broad chest covering Elian from the side as he reached for his hair, carefully picking out the twigs.

Elian gulped, shifting uncomfortably in the bath. It was a simple action, a very simply gesture, yet, his mind was reading far too much meaning into it.

From the way Lucien’s sandalwood and clove scent flooded his nostrils, to the way his warmth seeped into his skin, the way his long fingers untangled his hair and picked the twigs, and finally, the way Lucien’s warm breath fanned the side of his face.

Lucien was too close for comfort, every fibre of his skin was hyper aware of the alpha male beside him. And him? He could shamefully accept that he was an omega in heat.

"You’re burning up, Elian," Lucien finally spoke, voice filled with restraint and pain as his hand cupped the side of Elian’s slim neck.

Elian shivered, licking his sudddry lips, "It’s the water...too warm...I guess." He murmured, chewing the insides of his cheeks as he felt himself throb painfully between his legs.

"The water is just fine, Elian," Lucien whispered Elian’s ear, drawing the last twig out from his curls.

He didn’t want fir a reply as he stood, moving behind the bath as steam curled around him.

"Tilt your head back," he ordered quietly.