Chapter 8
Next day, Ehlian couldn’t meet Hayce’s eyes.
The lounge was in utter chaos. Heaps of broken chairs, flipped tables, and smeared food littered the floor. The guards moved among the inmates, their harsh commands ringing through the air as they demanded the mess to be cleaned.
Ehlian was grateful for the commotion. It gave him something to focus on. It kept his thoughts from wandering to the previous night. It was no use. He still felt the warmth of Hayce’s arms lingering around his body, like an extra layer of protection.
He felt embarrassed and infuriated at himself for seeking comfort in someone like Hayce. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was the faint whisper in the back of his head, the treacherous part of him that wanted it again.
He wanted it now.
Ehlian shoved the thought away.
It would pass.
In a few days, he’d be back to normal.
By the time they finished cleaning, the trays of lunch arrived. Grasson’s table was sparse, Grasson himself and several members of his pack missing. Maybe he had been killed last night. Maybe Ehlian wouldn’t have to see that ugly, sneering face again.
Ehlian sat in his usual spot at the table, right next to Hayce, but kept his distance. It was just for show anyway, and now that Grasson wasn’t there, there was no one else to entertain.
Especially not his boiling, irrational feelings.
Hayce suddenly stood, his confident steps echoing over the murmur of conversation in the lounge as he headed to the fragile omega, who had tucked himself away at a small, empty table. He seemed to welcome Hayce with ease, most likely because Hayce had saved him last night.
Ehlian couldn’t hear their conversation, but Hayce must have made an offer.
He glanced toward his pack’s table at someone over Ehlian’s head.
Ehlian followed his gaze and found Aric with his omega beside him.
Judging by Aric’s expression, he already knew about the plan.
Sometimes it seemed he devoted his life to Hayce, always following his lead without question.
Ehlian couldn’t quite figure out their relationship.
When a small, hopeful smile brightened the fragile omega’s face, even worse feelings swamped Ehlian than the need for quiet intimacy—a tender warmth at Hayce’s willingness to protect him.
The agreement seemed swift and final when the omega took the empty seat next to Aric.
Hayce sat back beside Ehlian, placing his hand on the usual spot above his knee. It took a painful, physical effort not to reach out and squeeze it, to thank him for listening to his plea.
Like an alpha pleasing his omega.
Satisfying him.
Gods fucking damnit, he couldn’t—shouldn’t think like that.
But those feelings persisted, torturing him. His body already leaned closer, his shoulder and arm brushing against Hayce’s.
“No one will challenge it?” Ehlian asked when he noticed a few alphas staring in disapproval, clearly unhappy with the arrangement.
“Aric’s omega will be released in two weeks,” Hayce said. “But if anyone does, I’ll deal with it.”
Like he’d dealt with 665.
A cruel, hot shiver ran up Ehlian’s spine at the memory—that intoxicating display of competence, the force of Hayce’s power.
The safety it had given him.
Unwittingly, Ehlian kept glancing toward the pair flaunting their love for everyone to see. He still thought of them as fools, but could he judge them when he was even a bigger fool? Because, with terrifying clarity, he realised that he wanted what they had.
The illusion of care and love. Safety and protection. He’d tasted it yesterday night, cradled in Hayce’s arms. For a brief moment, it had felt selfless, as though Hayce expected nothing in return.
But that was a lie, wasn’t it? Of course Hayce wanted something in exchange.
Something for something.
And the thought of giving it to him…
No, he wasn’t seriously considering it. Was he?
It was an ugly tangle of emotions. Humiliation, pride, and aching need. Would he really be willing to discard every shred of dignity just for a warm, secure bubble where things felt normal? Where he felt normal?
He couldn’t be so pathetic. He couldn’t crave it that much.
You know our deal. Not like they have. I don’t need a mate.
Ehlian knew exactly what Hayce wanted. A fuck toy. Nothing more. He wasn’t here to play pretend or build some happy little fantasy.
Hayce would laugh at him, or worse, giving him one of those quiet, ridiculing looks that annoyed Ehlian to no end. It was humiliating enough that Ehlian wanted the fake illusion of a healthy relationship and was willing to put aside his pride, he didn’t need Hayce’s humiliation on top of it all.
The momentary trust he’d felt toward Hayce wasn’t real.
Yeah, it was just momentary madness.
He merely needed a few more days to get over himself and his pathetic needs.
*
It was a quiet morning.
Only the mechanical buzz of the prison disturbed the silence, but by now it had blended almost entirely into the background, filtered out by his mind.
Ehlian stretched his limbs, stifling a yawn. The cell’s door was still locked, which meant it was too early. The silence disturbed him a little. The cell was the quietest part of the prison, and maybe for that very reason it felt like a trap. His thoughts always echoed louder here.
He refused to spiral into them again.
Nearly soundless steps cut through the still air. Now that Ehlian’s mind came into full focus, he realised he couldn’t feel the intense buzz of Hayce’s power right beside him in the bed.
He rubbed his eyes and sat up.
Hayce stood at the wardrobe, peeling off his dark top and tossing it onto the armchair, revealing the lean, firm line of his back.
It flexed with every small movement as he reached for the waistband of his pants, sliding them down with a lazy tug.
Ehlian snapped his eyes away just in time as they dropped to the floor.
It was damn near impossible to push those thoughts aside. Hayce was the focus of every one of them.
He was just there.
Always there.
Ehlian could still see it, the way Hayce forced 665 down to his knees effortlessly, ruthlessly, wielding his power like a blade. The dominance. The strength.
Ehlian swallowed hard. The fear from 665’s intentions still haunted him, but there was something else, something hotter and darker coiling in his belly every time the memory surfaced.
He shouldn’t fixate on this.
He shouldn’t go crazy over this.
Fuck. He was already crazy over it.
Hayce was dangerous. The memory alone, his exile to this place, was proof enough. Everyone feared him… feared challenging him, feared standing in his way. And here was Ehlian, fearing nothing but raw attraction.
He couldn’t run. But he should hide. He should be smarter than giving in to his unreasonable needs.
Next time he looked back at Hayce, he was already in clean underwear and pulling a crisp suit from the wardrobe. That could only mean one thing: he had a visitor. The prison allowed inmates to dress up for family members or any acquaintances.
Ehlian watched with slow blinks as the suit slid onto Hayce’s body, one piece after the next. When Hayce turned around, Ehlian nearly lost his breath. He looked… fuck. The suit hugged every line of him, elegant and intoxicatingly perfect. He was stunning.
“Speak your mind,” Hayce’s voice cut through the silence.
Only then did Ehlian realise he was staring. Flushed, he looked away, praying he hadn’t projected any of that through the pack bond.
He cleared his throat, trying to steady himself. “Where’s Grasson?”
“In solitary.”
“For how long?”
“A month,” Hayce said curtly. “Why are you so focused on him?”
Ehlian’s eyes caught on the collar of the jacket.
It sat slightly askew, a small imperfection ruining the otherwise immaculate appearance.
He had to beat back the urge to walk over and straighten it…
or fasten the top buttons of his shirt, where the tight, smooth skin at the curve of Hayce’s neck lay exposed. Skin he could sink his teeth into—
“Ehlian?”
He blinked up at him slowly. “Hm?”
“Why are you still focused on him?” Hayce asked, eyes darkening with something unreadable. “You belong to my pack.”
Ehlian’s heart skipped a beat. It sounded like a declaration—Ehlian was untouchable.
“It’s still a relief he’s not around,” Ehlian said after a moment, his eyes dropping to the suit again. “Are you expecting a visitor?”
“Maybe,” Hayce answered curtly.
It was clear he didn’t want to share anything, so Ehlian didn’t push it. “I’ll wait for you here until you return.” Realising how that sounded, he added quickly, “I mean—”
“I know what you meant,” Hayce cut in. “And you can leave the cell. Aric will look out for you.”
“Right,” Ehlian said, eyes dragging over Hayce’s frame again.
The suit was tailored so precisely, so flawlessly elegant against the line of his body it would have made Ehlian’s knees buckle if he’d been standing.
It had to be for special occasions. Special occasions designed to drive Ehlian utterly mad—
“Anything else you want to tell me?” Hayce asked, voice tight.
Face burning, Ehlian looked away. “Nothing else.”
“Nothing,” Hayce echoed, mocking now.
“Yeah.” Ehlian gestured awkwardly at his own throat. “Just your collar.”
He watched quietly as Hayce set it straight, the thin skin of his bond point sitting just above the edge.
No one liked having theirs irritated. Ehlian always bought the softest shirts and jumpers to avoid putting pressure on it.
But he couldn’t have afforded a tenth of what that suit must have cost, he thought, tracing the clean line of fabric down Hayce’s chest and torso.
A sudden image flashed through his mind—Hayce still wearing it, only his fly undone, while Ehlian lay bare on the bed, legs spread in silent invitation.
He swallowed, his gaze drifting lower until it caught on the shadowed outline between Hayce’s legs.
Ehlian wet his lips.
Something spiked in the air, Hayce’s power hitting him in a sudden wave. There was no emotion in it, like everything had been shut off. No, it was pure power, and fuck, it burned, hot and deep.
It sent the omega inside Ehlian spiralling, and he shifted on the bed awkwardly, trying to hide the sudden heat blooming in the pit of his stomach.
Hayce didn’t miss the movement, and gods, it only made his gaze grow darker.
“Stop it,” Ehlian warned, voice rough.
Hayce’s power withdrew in an instant, the air falling still. “I should stop it?”
Ehlian couldn’t meet his eyes. His face burned. His skin burned. The unbearable lust between his legs throbbing.
The cell door swung open abruptly, and a guard stepped inside. Ehlian jerked back, as if caught in the act of doing something forbidden.
If the guard noticed the unusual atmosphere in the room, he showed no sign of it. He turned to Hayce. “Your visitor is here.”
Hayce’s dark gaze lingered on Ehlian for a long beat before he looked away and strode out of the cell. The guard followed him.
Ehlian threw himself onto the bed.
Fuck.
What was he doing?
Had he completely lost his mind?
He had made his first mistake today.
He buried his face deep into the pillow, trying to shake off the lingering waves of lust.
Don’t think about it. Don’t feel it, he commanded himself like an idiot.
His mind wandered to the mysterious visitor. No one had come to see Hayce since Ehlian arrived.
Who could it be?
And what business did they have with him?