5. Chapter 5
Ludiin
“ B e careful!” Luci shouted beside him, as Ludiin wobbled down the stairs with a heavy box clutched against his chest. “Let me help you!”
“I’ve got it,” Ludiin grunted, his arms straining under the weight. The unassembled machine inside clinked and rattled with every precarious step. He’d thought dismantling it would make the load easier, but it was still heavy.
I can do this, he told himself as he carefully placed one foot in front of the other, until the burden suddenly lifted from his arms.
“Are you trying to hurt yourself?” a hard voice cut in.
Tarymn.
The name slammed into his chest, stealing his breath. The alpha’s piercing gaze pinned him in place, waiting, demanding a response.
“I…I’m not trying to hurt myself,” Ludiin stammered. “It’s my project. I have to take it to school.”
“Okay,” Tarymn said simply, and without hesitation carried the box the rest of the way down. Ludiin could only gape as the alpha moved steadily ahead of him. He glanced back at Luci, who looked equally stunned.
“At least he saved you from breaking your neck,” Luci said. “Go on, or you’ll be late.”
“Uh… right,” Ludiin mumbled, still dazed. He hurried after Tarymn, catching him just as the alpha loaded the box into his pod. “What are you…? I was going to order a hover shuttle. It wouldn’t take long.” He fumbled to take out his connector from the satchel slung over his back.
“I’ll take you.”
“Uhmm…” Ludiin’s eyes darted between the pod, the box, and the connector in his hand. “It’s fine, I can…”
“I thought you were uncomfortable around strangers,” Tarymn interrupted, stepping closer. His sheer presence filled the space, his scent wrapping around Ludiin in a way that made his pulse trip over itself. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just go with me?”
No! The word exploded in his mind, but it stuck in his throat.
“I just… didn’t want to be a bother,” he whispered instead.
“You’re not. And I offered to drop you off,” Tarymn said firmly, leaving no room for argument. “Let’s go.”
“Okay,” Ludiin said, his voice smaller than he meant it to be. He walked stiffly toward the pod, clutching the strap of his satchel like a lifeline. “Morning, Pitra,” he greeted softly as he stepped inside.
“Morning!” Pitra replied with his usual cheer, his bright tone slicing through the suffocating tension that had settled in Ludiin the moment Tarymn had snatched the box from his arms. “Did the chair arrive?”
“Yes, it’s perfect. Thank you,” Ludiin said.
“Good. Don’t forget to send me that list,” Pitra reminded.
Ludiin only nodded, lips pressed together. He had no intention of doing that. He wasn’t about to pile more onto Tarymn. The den was already too much.
Sliding into his seat, Ludiin dared a glance at the alpha beside him.
His breath caught when he realized Tarymn’s golden eyes were already on him, steady and unblinking.
Heat prickled up his neck. Ludiin shivered and jerked his gaze away, staring so hard out the window as if he could will the pod to go faster.
A shuttle would have been better, he thought miserably. At least then he wouldn’t have to sit in this stifling space, where every inhale dragged in Tarymn’s scent and every heartbeat made him too aware of the alpha’s overwhelming presence.
The silence stretched, thick and unbearable. Ludiin’s mind scrambled for words, anything to say, but every thought that surfaced felt too awkward to say out loud . He bit the inside of his cheek, wishing he were like Luci, who could talk to anyone about anything.
Instead, he let his long hair fall forward like a curtain, hiding his face.
His fingers found the colorful head tie looped around his wrist, the one Hym had given him, and he tugged on it gently.
The memory of Hym’s awkward grin when he’d handed it over warmed him unexpectedly.
And for a fleeting moment, the tension eased.
“What’s in the box?” Tarymn asked, dragging the tension back into the air.
Ludiin turned toward him, lips parting, but the words tangled in his throat. Instead of an answer, a strangled, awkward sound slipped out. Heat rushed up his neck, flooding his face.
Damn it. Ludiin silently groaned, mortified. He jerked his gaze away from Tarymn and clamped his eyes shut, dragging in uneven breaths as the world seemed to shrink and press against his chest.
Don’t make me answer. The words pounded in Ludiin’s head in a frantic prayer. His chest squeezed so tight it felt like his ribs might snap.
Tarymn, mercifully let it go.
“Pitra, Wulfric said he’d be there today,” he said, his tone casual, as if nothing had happened.
“Uhh…he did?” Pitra piped up from the front seat. “I haven’t seen him in a while. His last fight was incredible.”
They slipped into an easy conversation about UA fighters, and something called a ‘Play Day,’ their voices bouncing back and forth while Ludiin sat in silence. He let his hair fall forward, hiding behind it, only lifting his head to quietly give Pitra directions to his school.
The beta rewarded him with a bright, encouraging smile, as if he’d accomplished something monumental by simply speaking up. But the small kindness only made him feel worse. He hadn’t done anything right. All he’d managed to do was humiliate himself in front of Tarymn.
His skin prickled with the suffocating need to escape.
I want out of this pod. Now.
He waited until Pitra steered them closer to the main gates before shoving to his feet, words tumbling out of his mouth. “I’ll get out here.”
“Here?” Pitra shot him a look, glancing at the tight stream of pods crawling behind them. The parking bays whipped past on the right, no room to stop or turn back. “Sorry, I missed it. I’ll have to let you out inside the parking dome.”
Ludiin sank back into his seat, biting down on his bottom lip.
The moment the pod glided to a stop in the parking dome, he pushed to his feet and reached for his box, only to find Tarymn already there.
Their hands brushed. The smallest touch, but it lit up his nerves.
A sharp gasp tore from his throat before he could stop it, and he jerked back as though burned.
He flicked his gaze up, searching Tarymn’s face for any sign he’d felt it too. But the alpha was already lifting the box effortlessly, stepping out of the pod as if nothing had happened.
“I can…” The words faltered in Ludiin’s mouth as Tarymn turned, golden eyes expectant, waiting for him to follow. “I can go on my own.”
“I know.” Tarymn said matter-of-factly. “But you don’t have to. You have a stepbrother now. And I want to walk you to your classroom.”
Ludiin’s mouth went dry. All he could do was trail after him, his pulse skittering.
As soon as they stepped out of the dome, all eyes were on him. Students, dozens of them, stopped whatever they were doing, eyes wide, as they stared. Not at him. At Tarymn .
Heat climbed up Ludiin’s neck at the sudden attention. He quickened his pace, desperate to get away.
“Don’t run,” Tarymn said, as his fingers wrapped around Ludiin’s arm, slowing him down. The touch seared. Another surge of electricity shot through Ludiin’s body, more consuming than before, a shiver racing down his spine. A reminder of how good it had felt to have Tarymn touch him.
Fuck. He shouldn’t touch me.
“Sorry,” Ludiin mumbled, forcing his voice out as he carefully tugged his arm free, the skin still tingling where Tarymn’s hand had been. “I’m usually in class by now.”
Tarymn said nothing. He only fell into step beside him, his silence somehow louder. Ludiin shook his head, muttering silently to himself to just keep walking, to ignore everything as he made his way to his building.
He slipped into the classroom, keeping his eyes down, careful not to meet the curious gazes of the other students as he headed to the little nook in the back where his workbench sat waiting.
“You’re all the way in the back,” Tarymn observed, his gaze sweeping over the students laughing and jostling at their stations.
“I like my space,” Ludiin muttered, taking the box from him. The weight of the box was nothing compared to Tarymn’s heavy stare, lingering on him, as if the alpha wanted to say something else but swallowed it back.
Instead, Tarymn pulled out his connector and held it out.
“What?” Ludiin asked, blinking at it.
“Your code. Give it to me,” Tarymn said simply.
Hesitant, Ludiin took the device, his fingers brushing Tarymn’s again.
Fuck , Ludiin silently moaned, teeth sinking into his lower lip to stifle the rush of heat that surged through him and settled in his hole.
His hands fumbled for a second before he managed to punch in his code.
When he was done, he carefully handed it back, not to risk brushing against the alpha again.
A second later, his own connector buzzed from his satchel, a soft chime blending with the chatter in the room.
“Connect with me when you’re done. I’ll come and pick you up,” Tarymn said.
“You don’t have to,” Ludiin protested quickly. “I’m going to leave the machine here.”
“I know,” Tarymn said. He stepped back, giving Ludiin one last unreadable look before turning and walking out.
Ludiin’s heart hammered in his chest as he stared at the empty spot where Tarymn had been, one thought clear in his mind.
There was no way he could pretend that night had never happened.
***
Tarymn
“Is he okay?” Pitra asked, his tone tight with worry.
Fuck. He was worried too. Ludiin was making them both worry. Damn him.
Every instinct screamed at him to go back, to make sure the omega was all right. Tarymn’s chest tightened, his gaze on the door that led out of the parking dome. He forced himself to stay seated, knuckles whitening where his hands gripped his knees.
Fuck, what the hell was this? With a sharp shake of his head, he turned to Pitra instead.
“Let’s go before I’m late for my play day,” he said.
“Yes, master,” Pitra murmured. A heavy silence hung between them as the pod drifted through traffic, the hum of the engine filling the space.