Liam was pacing through the suite like an animal in a cage.

It was just a video call with Arik’s parents.

It couldn’t be that bad.

That was what Liam had told himself five times in the last ten minutes, with decreasing conviction and increasing suspicion that he had become a liar out of desperation.

He was dressed nicely, which should have helped. His long brown hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, his shirt was dark green and fitted without being too formal, and he looked good. He knew he looked good, objectively. That did not change the fact that he was about to meet Damian Lyon and Gabriel Lyon as Arik’s mate, which made the entire situation less like a family introduction and more like an imperial inspection with emotional consequences.

He stopped in front of the mirror, turned slightly, and then frowned at the reflection.

"Too formal," he muttered.

He unfastened the top button.

Then stared.

"Too available."

He fastened it again.

A knock came at the door.

Liam turned sharply. "No."

The door opened anyway.

Arik entered like the word had been a decorative sound rather than an instruction. He wore black trousers and a pale shirt under a dark, tailored jacket, looking unfairly calm for a man responsible for at least seventy percent of Liam’s current suffering. His gaze moved over Liam once, slow enough to be noticed, controlled enough to be offensive.

Then his mouth curved.

Liam pointed at him immediately. "Do not come closer."

Arik tilted his head, clearly taking in every inch of his mate with a hunger that made Liam’s face warm before dignity could stop it.

"You look amazing," he said in the end.

Liam narrowed his eyes. "You are supposed to calm me down."

"I am trying."

"You are staring."

"That calms me down."

Liam gave him a flat look. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

Arik’s amusement softened, and for once, he obeyed. He remained near the door, hands relaxed at his sides, giving Liam space even while the bond between them warmed with maddening gentleness.

"They will not judge you," Arik said.

"They are the Emperor and Consort of Agaron."

"They are my parents."

Liam looked toward the communication console, then back at him. "Gabriel may try to recruit me."

"He might."

The honesty helped, annoyingly.

Arik took one careful step forward. "May I?"

Liam sighed. "Fine."

Arik crossed the remaining distance and stopped in front of him. He did not touch him at first. He only stood close enough for his warm stone scent to settle around them, close enough for the bond to quiet from panic into something calming.

"You do not have to impress them," Arik said, brushing one loose strand of hair back behind Liam’s ear. "They are not deciding whether you are enough."

Liam swallowed. "No?"

"No. That decision is already mine."

The communication console chimed.

Liam looked at it and felt his stomach drop.

Arik caught his hand, warm and firm.

"Ready?"

"No."

Arik activated the call anyway.

—

Liam’s first opinion of his mate’s parents was that they were both offensively beautiful.

It was not helpful.

It was, in fact, deeply irritating. He had prepared himself for imperial severity, political pressure, and perhaps the unsettling experience of being assessed like another pawn in their lives. He had not prepared himself for the unfair genetic reality that Arik’s entire family apparently looked designed to make diplomacy more difficult.

Damian Lyon appeared first, seated in a dark chair, one leg over the other knee and a cup of tea in his right hand. Black hair, golden eyes, a face carved into something severe and almost offensively handsome. He looked like Arik’s future if Arik became even more impossible with age.

Beside him sat Gabriel Lyon.

Liam understood, immediately and against his will, why Arik had turned out the way he had.

Gabriel was beautiful in a sharper, more unsettling way. His dark hair was swept back, his posture relaxed, his expression calm enough to be dangerous. He was dressed casually, his dark shirt opened at the collar, and a dark gold and purple stone ring on his right hand.

Liam’s second opinion was that Arik’s entire bloodline was a public safety hazard.

Gabriel’s gaze moved from Arik to Liam, then briefly to Arik’s hand still holding his.

His mouth curved.

"Liam," he said. "Finally."

Liam’s spine straightened on instinct.

That annoyed him too.

He had not spent years surviving Felix, family politics, and Lab V’s temperamental machinery just to be undone by a beautiful man saying his name like he had been waiting for an interesting report.

"Your Imperial Highness," Liam said stiffly.

Gabriel’s smile deepened.

Damian’s gaze shifted to him, calm and golden and far too similar to Arik’s when Arik was deciding whether to indulge something or destroy it.

"Lord Liam," Damian said.

His voice was lower than Arik’s, smoother with age, but the weight in it was familiar enough that Liam understood immediately where Arik had learned to make a simple greeting sound like an event.

Liam inclined his head. "Your Majesty."

"Very formal," Gabriel said, amused.

"Gabriel," Damian said without looking at him.

"What? It was."

Arik’s fingers tightened lightly around Liam’s under the table.

Liam did not look at him.

He would not reward him.

Gabriel leaned back in his chair, the ring on his finger catching the light as he rested his hand against his jaw. "I was told you were considering asking me for political asylum."

Liam went perfectly still, as that was something he thought, and only one person could have guessed that so clearly.

Arik closed his eyes for half a second.

Damian turned his head slowly toward his mate.

"Gabriel," he said again, this time with the faintest trace of warning.

Gabriel looked unbothered. "It is a fair opening topic. It tells me several things."

"It tells you I need better privacy," Liam said before he could stop himself.

A brief silence followed.

Arik’s hand tightened around his in immediate, unmistakable approval.

Gabriel’s smile turned brilliant.

Damian’s mouth barely moved, but Liam saw it. A fracture in all that severe imperial stillness.

"Oh," Gabriel said. "I like him."

Liam’s stomach dropped.

"That was not an invitation."

"It rarely is."

"Mother," Arik said.