Chapter 213: He could only decode the word REVENGE

Alaric’s lips tugged up into a genuine smile, and he nodded.

"Lucius, put that thing away and eat," Alaric said, and Lucius looked up. Here,"

Julian watched Alaric tear off a piece of the bread and hand it to Lucius, who dipped it into his broth with excitement.

It seemed like he had been waiting to eat the broth, but was too busy scribbling whatever he was scribbling.

Julian watched Alaric pat the boy’s cheek and brush off the crumb on the side of his mouth.

For a moment, the image was so perfect it hurt. It felt like a family. It was a family.

He was thinking. Could this be... his family as well?

He was already the Duke’s lover, and the Duke had said it over and over that he loved him, but what had he shown forth to the devoted Duke?

What had he offered?

Even just admitting that he loved the Duke didn’t feel enough. He wanted the Duke to feel it.

"You’re drifting again," Alaric said, his voice dropping low, filled with that private concern he saved only for Julian. "Where did you go?"

Julian looked up, meeting those piercing blue eyes. He realized Alaric was worried. He could see it in the slight tension of his jaw.

"Nowhere," Julian said, reaching out and lacing his fingers with Alaric’s on top of the table. He squeezed tight. "I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere."

Lucius watched them, a small, knowing smile on his face as he went back to his soup.

That afternoon, after Lucius had gone for his nap, Julian returned to his desk. He finally pulled the book out. The purple glow of the title felt warm against his palms. He opened to the first page, past the sketch of ’Julian’ sitting in a wooden hut, and looked at the second sketch.

It wasn’t a list of quests. It was a map. A map of the Southern Sultanate, with a red line drawn directly toward the North.

He didn’t need to decode the words to know that sometime from now to the nearest future, the south would visit.

But unlike how it is in the book, where the only text he had managed to decode was REVENGE, the context of it all felt different.

Why did the Southerners visit the North in the book? He did not know. What did the original Julian do during their visit? Did he come from the Capital to meet them? Form ties?

He could not decipher any more than the word REVENGE, and that made him feel restless.

The original Julian had already had his revenge and vanished. He did not follow the contents of his own story, it seemed. And so, what was left of the unacted novel?

Julian sighed and shut the book.

Just thinking about it gave him a headache.

He would like to just assume he never had the book and live life like everybody else. It would make him worry less.

And so, he kept the book. He kept it in a place no one would access, as he sought to go through life like a normal person and not rely on external help.

Yes, life was worth living if you gave it your best.

The blizzard outside the manor had reached a crescendo, the wind screaming against the stone walls with a prehistoric fury. But inside the Duke’s master suite, the world had shrunk to the size of a single, tangled bed.

It was a space ruled by the scent of cedarwood, the dying crackle of pine logs in the fireplace, and not only that, but the frantic movements of two bodies that had finally stopped fighting the urge to strip each other bare.

The heavy blankets had long ago been kicked to the foot of the bed, their warmth discarded in favor of raw, skin-to-skin, fiery contact.

Julian lay beneath Alaric, his back arched slightly as his breath came in jagged, broken hitches.

Julian felt every sensation of the Duke’s desire with a terrifying, unshielded intensity.

The weight of Alaric’s chest against his, the connection of his cock deep inside him as they tangled together, and the silver moonlight spilling across the sheets felt more real than anything he had experienced in two lifetimes.

Alaric moved with a slow, deliberate possessiveness. His large hands pinned Julian’s wrists to the mattress for a heart-stopping moment before his fingers slid down to interlace with Julian’s.

Every thrust was a question, a demand, an anchor pulling Julian deeper into a present he no longer wanted to escape.

"Haaa— Haa— Lucien, Mph—"

Julian’s head tossed back against the pillow, his mismatched eyes clouded with a haze of pleasure and salt-rimmed tears.

"There... haa~ Right there, Lucien. Mph-"

He bit his lip as the Duke’s cock thrust into him so hard he could see stars. The ecstasy was out of this world, and he could feel his heart swelling—not just with the physical exertion, but with a burgeoning, heavy warmth that felt like it was expanding past his ribs.

He remembered the night, months ago, when he had confessed with a hollow chest that he didn’t know how to love. remembered Alaric’s low, vow-like promise: "Then I will teach you."

And he had succeeded. Julian could feel the feelings swirling in his chest. Love. It was love. He had long since confirmed, about a few days back, that he was indeed in love with the Duke.

There... was no denying it.

The Duke leaned down, his sweat-dampened hair brushing against Julian’s forehead, his breathing a harsh, primal growl in Julian’s ear.

As Alaric pushed deeper, Julian felt a surge of emotion so sharp it was almost painful. It was a greed he hadn’t known he possessed—a desperate, clawing need to be closer, to merge, to be more than just two separate entities sharing a bed.

Yes, love came with all of this. This absolute necessity to have and own everything of his lover—every pain, every smile, every happiness, every sadness, every burden—he wanted to share all of it with him. This... this was love.

Julian managed to free one hand, his fingers trembling as he reached up to cup Alaric’s face. His palm felt the rough stubble on the Duke’s jaw and the searing heat radiating from his skin.

He used what little strength he had left to force Alaric to look at him, to meet his gaze in the flickering firelight.

"Lucien," Julian panted, his voice a broken whisper that cut through the sound of their labored breathing.

Alaric paused, his muscles corded and quivering with the effort of restraint. His blue eyes were dark, the pupils blown wide with an intensity that seemed to burn straight through Julian’s pretenses.

"You told me..." Julian swallowed hard, a fresh tear escaping and tracing a path toward his ear. "You said you would teach me. And you did. You did, Lucien."

He pulled Alaric closer, until their lips were almost touching, their breaths mingling in the small, charged space between them.