The word hung between them, thick and heavy like the scent of cedar suddenly turned suffocating.
_Yours._
Caspian hadn't meant to say it so easily. It had slipped past his lips before his mind could catch it, dragged out by the heat in Zayden's eyes and the way his name felt safe there, even when it was possessive.
Zayden's jaw tightened.
For a moment, he didn't breathe. Didn't move. Then his hand came up, cupping Caspian's cheek with a gentleness that didn't match the darkness coiled in his gaze.
"Good boy," Zayden murmured, the praise low enough to make Caspian's stomach flip.
Caspian shivered. He hated how fast his body reacted to it, how the shame and fear from his dream were already fading, replaced by something warmer, more dangerous. The bathrobe slipped further with the movement, and Zayden's eyes flicked down again—quick, possessive, before forcing himself to look away.
His control was fraying. Caspian could smell it in the air, in the sharp spike of alpha pheromones that made his knees feel weak even sitting down.
"You're trembling," Zayden observed, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. "Still afraid?"
Caspian shook his head, too quickly. "N-no. Not of you."
Zayden's lips quirked at that, something almost satisfied. "Hmm. You shouldn't be."
He shifted, easing Caspian back against the pillows without letting go. The bed dipped under their weight, and suddenly Caspian was lying half-reclined with Zayden hovering over him, one arm caging him in, the other still resting possessively on his waist.
Morning light caught the gold in Zayden's eyes now, making them look less human and more predatory.
"I meant what I said," Zayden said quietly. "About everything."
His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path along Caspian's collarbone, stopping just short of where the robe parted. "No one lays a hand on you again . No one dare to touch what's mine.
Caspian swallowed hard. "What if… what if they don't care?"
"Then they'll learn." Zayden's voice dropped, cold and certain. "I don't need them to care. I only need them to understand."
The finality in his tone made Caspian's chest tighten. It should have terrified him. A week ago it would have. But now, with Zayden's weight grounding him and that scent—pine smoke, cedar, safety—wrapping around him, all he felt was a treacherous kind of relief.
Like he had a reason to live now.
Zayden noticed. He always noticed.
His thumb brushed over Caspian's lower lip, slow enough to make Caspian's breath hitch.
"Stop thinking so loud," Zayden murmured. "You're safe here. With me."
Caspian's eyes fluttered closed for half a second. "I'm not used to that."
"I know." Zayden's forehead pressed against his again, a silent promise. "You will be."
Silence settled, but it wasn't awkward. It was thick with unspoken things, with the weight of what had just been claimed and accepted. Caspian could feel Zayden's heartbeat under his palm, steady and possessive, matching the rhythm of his own.
Then Zayden pulled back just enough to look at him properly, his gaze dragging over every inch of Caspian's face like he was memorizing it.
"Tomorrow," he said again, softer this time. "We go shopping. You'll wear what I choose."
Caspian opened his mouth to argue, to say it wasn't necessary, but the look in Zayden's eyes stopped him.
It wasn't a request.
He nodded instead, small and reluctant and a little pleased he was trying to hide.
Zayden's lips curved, just barely.
"Good boy."
He leaned down then, slow enough to give Caspian a chance to pull away.
Caspian didn't.
Zayden stopped a breath away, his nose brushing against Caspian's, sharing air, sharing scent. It was worse than a kiss—more intimate, more deliberate. A reminder of who held the control.
"Rest," Zayden whispered against his skin. " . "Go back to sleep.
Zayden shifted carefully, drawing the blankets up over Caspian's shoulders with deliberate gentleness, tucking the edges under his chin like he was handling something fragile and irreplaceable. He smoothed a thumb over Caspian's brow, letting his pheromones bleed out slow and warm—cedar and pine smoke, thick and soothing, wrapping around the bed until the faint tremor in Caspian's breathing eased. When Caspian's eyes finally slid shut again and his scent dulled back to calm sleep, Zayden slid his own jacket off and laid it beside him, the fabric still holding his scent so no nightmare could get close.
He left the room quiet as a shadow,
Downstairs, he ate in silence, methodical and quick, as if food was just another task to clear. When the plate was empty he stood,Zayden walked into the kitchen:
"Mrs. Gable."
The old housekeeper froze, hands trembling around her tray. It had been years since he'd said her name aloud. Her face paled, fear flickering that she'd failed somewhere.
But Zayden's eyes were calm, harder than anger, and his words stunned her more than any reprimand could. "Make sure Caspian eats a full breakfast. He's weak. I'll know if he doesn't."
Mrs. Gable nodded frantically. "Yes, boss! I will make sure."
"That's good then."
He was about to leave the kitchen when he saw maids running away like he was some kind of beast. He sighed and told Miss Gable, "Tell the staff to stop hiding. I am not going to bite anyone. Well… not without an appointment."
The second he said it, one maid tried to stop running, but her dress had other plans. Her foot got stuck, and _whoosh_—she flew forward and landed flat on the floor with a loud _thud_.
Zayden blinked. "Are you alive?"
The whole countryard freeze and then Mrs. Gable snorted, clapping a hand over her mouth too late. One of the footmen choked on air and had to pretend he was coughing. Even Matteo, who hadn't smiled in 6 years, had his shoulders shaking as he held the front door open.
The maid tried to hide her embarrassment:
Y-yes sir! I was just…testing the floor's cleanliness!" Then she started wiping the floor with her dress like a tiny human mop
Mrs. Gable lost it first, letting out a full belly laugh she hadn't made in years.The whole hallway followed. People were clutching their sides, tears streaming down their faces, trying and failing to be quiet.Even Marcus was biting his lip so hard it probably hurt. Zayden stared for one second, muttered under his breath:
"Idiots,"
and walked out while the maid behind him was still scrubbing the floor like her life depended on it.
Outside, the convoy waited. Matteo opened the car door, glanced back at the palace where you could still hear Mrs. Gable laugher.He sigh as he entered the car.
The doors closed. The convoy moved out.
Leaving behind the palace of choas and laugher.