chapter 15

Chapter 15

The sunlight poured through the high windows of Alistair's study, casting golden streaks across the desk cluttered with scrolls and wax seals. The faint scent of melted wax and aged parchment filled the air. Alistair's fingers traced the lines of his father's letter, reading the words over and over.

"I am nearing home. The journey has been long, but I will soon return to Valla. Prepare for my arrival. There is much to discuss."

A rare smile flickered across his face-until the door creaked open.

Elias slipped inside, his face carefully composed but his eyes flickering with worry. He closed the door behind him, glancing back as if to make sure no one followed.

Alistair folded the letter quickly. "What's wrong?"

Elias stood rigid, his fingers twitching at his sides. "The rumors... they're spreading fast. The knights are saying you brought someone into your chambers last night."

Alistair's brow furrowed. He leaned forward, voice low. "That's impossible. No one saw you."

"No." Elias shook his head. "But the whispers-there's talk in every corner of the palace. They're filling in the gaps with whatever story suits them."

A tense silence settled between them, the weight of the danger pressing into the small room.

Alistair leaned back, fingers steepled beneath his chin. Then, after a moment, he said softly, "I have a solution."

Elias's heart quickened. "What?"

Alistair's green eyes fixed on him. "I'll appoint you as my personal guard."

Elias's breath caught, his pulse fluttering.

"That's impossible," he said quickly, shaking his head. "There's a code-knights appointed to the royal family must have served for years. I'm nowhere near that rank."

Alistair rose slowly from his chair, the room growing smaller with every step he took toward Elias. "I'm the prince," he said, his voice steady but low. "I can do what I want."

Elias's heart pounded as Alistair closed the space between them. His breath hitched when Alistair's hand brushed against his wrist-just the lightest touch, but it set fire beneath his skin.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. They had been holding back for months-keeping their distance in the daylight, stealing touches only when the world wasn't watching. Now, standing so close, the tension hung heavy between them.

"You're playing a dangerous game," Elias whispered.

Alistair's fingers trailed up his arm, deliberate and slow. "When have we ever played it safe?"

Elias swallowed hard, his body leaning into the warmth of Alistair's touch despite himself. He had spent countless nights dreaming of this-of Alistair pressing against him, the walls of propriety crumbling around them.

His lips parted, but no words came out.

Alistair's hand slid to the back of his neck, drawing him closer until their breaths mingled. "Come with me to Raventhorn," he murmured, his voice like silk.

The name made Elias's heart stop.

He pulled back slightly, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Raventhorn. The town where they had first crossed the line. The town where they had become something neither of them could ever name.

---

Three Years ago

The streets of Raventhorn pulsed with life-laughter, music, and the scent of spiced wine filling the air. Here, in this lawless town, no one cared about titles or bloodlines. It was the perfect place to disappear, to forget responsibility-if only for a while.

Seventeen-year-old Alistair had led sixteen-year-old Elias through the crowd, both of them eager to shake off their guards. They had done this before-stolen moments of reckless freedom-but something about this night felt different. There was a charge between them, an unspoken tension lingering in every glance.

They found a tavern, the kind where noblemen sought pleasure without consequence. The dimly lit room was filled with the scent of perfume and wine, the sound of laughter and whispered promises. Women in sheer fabrics swayed to the music, offering smiles and lingering touches to passing men.

Elias shifted uncomfortably as Alistair ordered them a room.

"You look tense," Alistair said, handing him a cup of wine. Their fingers brushed. Elias jerked his hand back, his pulse quickening.

"I'm fine," he said, taking a sip, though his throat felt dry.

Alistair smirked, watching him over the rim of his own cup. They had spent years by each other's sides-first as companions, then as something more complicated. Something unnamed.

Elias tried to focus on his drink, but his gaze kept drifting to Alistair. The way the dim candlelight played against his sharp features, the way his lips curled slightly as he drank. When their eyes met, Elias quickly looked away, but not before he saw the flicker of something unreadable in Alistair's gaze.

He choked on his wine.

Alistair was at his side instantly, wiping the stray drops from his lips with a cloth. Elias froze at the contact, his breath hitching.

And then he did something reckless.

He leaned forward, pressing a quick, stolen kiss to Alistair's lips.

The moment it happened, he pulled back, eyes wide with horror. "Forgive me, your highness-I mean, Alistair, I-I didn't mean-"

Alistair didn't let him finish. He grabbed Elias by the collar and pulled him in, crashing their lips together.

It was clumsy at first-breathless and desperate, a mess of inexperience and want. Elias gasped as Alistair's hands gripped his waist, pulling him closer. Their bodies pressed together, heat rising between them as Alistair tugged at Elias's tunic, fingers brushing bare skin.

Elias shivered at the touch, hands fisting into Alistair's shirt. He wanted more. Needed more.

But before they could lose themselves completely, the door swung open.

A woman entered, carrying more wine, barely sparing them a glance.

They broke apart instantly, breathless and flustered.

"We should go," Alistair murmured, voice rough.

Elias nodded, heart hammering. They left the tavern in silence, the weight of what had happened hanging between them. As they walked, Alistair almost reached for him-but then a guard appeared, and he quickly withdrew his hand.

That night, Elias lay awake, staring at the ceiling, his lips still tingling from Alistair's kiss.

Then, a soft knock.

He opened the door, and there stood Alistair.

"I couldn't sleep," he admitted.

"Neither could I," Elias said, stepping aside.

The door closed. The room felt too small, the air too heavy with everything unspoken.

Elias lifted a hand, brushing his fingers over Alistair's cheek. It was hesitant at first-uncertain-but when Alistair leaned into his touch, something inside him snapped.

This time, there was no hesitation.

Their lips crashed together, raw and desperate. Alistair's hands roamed over Elias's back, pulling him closer, as if trying to mold them into one. Elias gasped as Alistair's teeth grazed his jaw, his hands fumbling at the laces of his tunic.

Clothes were stripped away in frantic motions, skin meeting skin. Elias shuddered as Alistair pressed kisses down his throat, across his chest, setting fire to every nerve in his body.

"Alistair," Elias breathed, his voice barely a whisper.

Alistair silenced him with another searing kiss, pushing him onto the bed.

Elias had never felt like this before-like he was coming undone beneath Alistair's touch, unraveling with every kiss, every whisper of his name. He clung to him, nails digging into his back as Alistair moved against him, claiming him in a way that sent shivers down his spine.

It was intense, overwhelming. A fire consuming them both.

And in that moment, Elias knew-he belonged to Alistair.

It was more than just desire.

It was something deeper.

Something terrifying.

And that was why, after that night, he made a choice.

He became a knight.

Not for honor. Not for glory.

But for Alistair.

To stay by his side. To protect him. To be close to him, no matter the cost.

Even if it meant denying what they truly were.

Even if it meant hiding in the shadows, watching as Alistair was forced to play the role of a future king.

Even if it meant enduring the ache of knowing that, one day, Alistair might have to choose duty over him.

But for now, in the quiet of the night, with Alistair's arms around him, Elias allowed himself to believe in this moment.

in them.