8. Chapter 8 #2
“They don’t,” Ludiin said, cheeks going a deeper shade of red. “I build heavy machinery, not…ugh…whatever you’re thinking. But I could go into medicine. Maybe.”
“Oh, I see,” Tarymn replied, grinning faintly. His eyes shifted and landed on the new couch in the corner. “Ah, I see the couch has arrived. That was quick.”
He walked over to it and collapsed onto the cushions with a long, contented sigh. “It’s a good couch.”
Ludiin didn’t respond. Tarymn glanced over, only to find the omega watching him with a confused, slightly guarded expression, as if he was trying to figure out what, exactly, Tarymn was doing here.
And honestly… Tarymn didn’t know either. This morning had made sense. But now? Now he was here without a reason.
Well, not one that made sense, even to himself.
He just… needed something. A moment. Something quiet. Like this morning. Listening to Ludiin work had calmed him in a way nothing else ever had.
Tarymn frowned at the thought, then turned his attention back to Ludiin. “Why didn’t you want to go out?” he asked, hoping the question would shift the focus away from himself.
Ludiin jolted, clearly not expecting the question.
“You said it’s because you want to graduate,” Tarymn said, watching him. “When exactly is your graduation?”
“End of the year,” Ludiin replied quickly, a defensive edge creeping into his tone. “And before you say anything. Don’t. I know it’s still months away, and yes, it was a weak excuse.”
“So, the truth then.”
“Why should I tell you?” Ludiin snapped, spinning away. He crossed the room to the other workbench, bent down, and pulled something heavy from underneath. Tools clinked as he began cutting it into blocks. His mouth moved too, quietly muttering under his breath.
Tarymn caught fragments here and there, but he wasn’t really listening to the words. He was listening to the low, steady hum of Ludiin’s voice, the way it filled the space between them like white noise. Soothing, strangely comforting.
Tarymn let his eyes fall shut, letting the sound of Ludiin working lull his mind.
After some time, there was silence. He opened his eyes to find Ludiin standing over him, brows furrowed in half-annoyance, half-confusion.
“This couch,” Ludiin said, deadpan, “is not for sleeping.”
“I wasn’t sleeping,” Tarymn muttered.
“You were very not awake,” Ludiin said, folding his arms. “Why are you here anyway? I mean, I know it’s your house, you can go anywhere obviously, but... you don’t exactly like me. But lately you’ve been coming here and…” He trailed off, clearly lost for words.
Fuck.
Tarymn ran a hand down his face. “I don’t dislike you, Ludiin,” he said quietly.
“I was angry at someone else. Meeting you and your brother just... brought it all back. I handled it badly. I took it out on the wrong people. I’m trying to fix that.
” He gestured around the room with a half-smile. “This? This is me trying.”
He reached for Ludiin’s hand and gently tugged him down onto the couch beside him.
“I’ve accepted my duty,” he said. “We’re stuck with each other, you and me. And Luci. At least until you both find your mates and move on with your lives.”
Ludiin looked at him for a moment. “You were angry at your dad.”
“Yes.” Tarymn exhaled. “When I come up here, I’m not trying to bother you.
I just…I’m trying to make up for everything that happened.
We’re supposed to be a family, spend time together and all that stuff.
It’s a little awkward between you and me because of that night, but we can move past it, right? ”
“Yes,” Ludiin said softly, almost shyly. “You can come here whenever you want.”
Tarymn blinked, surprised. He hadn’t expected that, hadn’t expected the warmth behind the offer, or how much it would mean to him.
“Thank you,” he said, genuinely.
Heavy footsteps thudded against the stairs, breaking the moment, and Hym appeared at the top, eyes darting from Tarymn to Ludiin.
“There you are,” he said, his tone halfway between relief and impatience. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“I was here,” Tarymn replied casually.
“I’m going out with Luci. Then I’ll be off.”
“Already? What time is it?”
“I told you, you were asleep,” Ludiin murmured, not quite looking at him.
“I wasn’t,” Tarymn shot back, turning to his brother. “Maybe I should go out with you.”
“No. Please… no,” Hym said, already backing toward the stairs. “You’re no fun. I’ll see you when I get back.”
“You sure?”
“Very.” Hym laughed as he disappeared down the steps.
“I’m fun,” Tarymn muttered under his breath, his eyes shifting to Ludiin’s hands. “Why are your hands black?”
Ludiin’s cheeks flushed.
“It’s the Lumina,” he mumbled. “I use it to sculpt stuff. It’s a little messy.”
Tarymn’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Do I even want to know what you’re sculpting?”
“No,” Ludiin said quickly, leaping to his feet. “Please go back to sleep.”
Tarymn chuckled, standing and stretching. “No. I’ll leave you to your mysterious mess.”
He walked down the stairs feeling oddly lighter.
Hym leaving for a mission usually set him on edge, but this time…
it didn’t seem so bad. Maybe Hym was right, having people around the house might not be the worst thing.
The thought made him smile, a quiet warmth spreading through his chest. He carried it back to his office, already thinking he wouldn’t mind finding more of it later.
The next day, he found himself back in the den, stretching out on the couch while Ludiin worked. The omega mumbled all sorts of random things under his breath. Half of it made no sense, but somehow it was still nice to listen to. The space felt calm, peaceful.
The more Tarymn listened, the more he noticed little things about him—how innocent he sounded, how his words carried a sort of quirky charm he found endearing. Before he knew it, that hole Hym usually left behind didn’t feel quite so big. So, of course, he went back the next day too.
And the next. And the next.
A month in, and Tarymn could barely go a single day without finding an excuse to climb up to the third floor.
Now, Tarymn lay sprawled on the couch, eyes fixed on the ceiling, frustration gnawing at his temples until it flared into the familiar pounding behind his eyes. The headache was back. Again.
It wasn’t going to go away until he dealt with Deltta’s issue. And he wasn’t sure he could.
He dragged a hand down his face, breathing in the space around him.
Ludiin was moving quietly across the room, and his scent lingered in the air—warm, clean, and a little sweet.
Tarymn inhaled without meaning to. He was doing that a lot lately.
Catching traces of the omega’s scent and letting it calm something in him he didn’t know needed calming.
It was weird. He knew that. But he didn’t have the energy to question it anymore. What was the point? He’d end up back here regardless.
They were bonding. Becoming something close to a family.
His eyes drifted shut, and at some point, sleep must have pulled him under.
When he opened them again, Ludiin was crouched beside the couch, his fingers lightly stroking across his brow in soft, absent circles. Tarymn lay still for a few seconds, letting the touch sooth him before opening his eyes.
Ludiin startled. His hand froze mid-air, like he’d been caught doing something wrong.
Before either of them could think too hard about it, Tarymn caught his hand and gently placed it back against his forehead.
Ludiin gasped again, but he didn’t pull away.
“Don’t stop.”
“I…” Ludiin stammered, rocking back on his heels. They stayed like that for a while before Ludiin spoke again. “You looked stressed. So, I…”
“I’m your stepbrother, Ludiin. You can touch me,” Tarymn said.
“Is it work again?”
“Yes,” Tarymn muttered, nudging Ludiin’s hand down to the couch beside him. “I took your advice, but all the parts are perfect, there’s nothing out of place.”
Ludiin bit the inside of his mouth, looking thoughtful. “Maybe if you tell me, we can figure it out together. What is it?”
Tarymn sat up, exhaling hard. “Uhh... I don’t think…”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Ludiin cut in quickly. “I barely go outside, and I don’t have any friends.”
Tarymn’s mouth curved in a faint smile as he reached out to give Ludiin’s nose a gentle tap. “That’s not a good thing, Ludiin. You should go outside and make friends. Have fun.”
“I have fun here,” Ludiin said, leaning forward slightly. “Now, tell me.”
Tarymn scrubbed a hand down his face and muttered a curse under his breath. “Fuck, okay.” His voice dropped a notch, conspiratorial. “It’s an embezzlement case.”
Ludiin nodded, encouraging him to go on.
Tarymn told him about his meeting with Deltta and what he'd heard at the sphere. “But hearsay isn’t evidence. All I have are fragments of a conversation. Nothing in the documents Deltta gave me ties to them to the crime.”
Ludiin shifted on the floor, thoughtful. “When did he first notice something was off?”
“When the numbers didn’t add up,” Tarymn said. “The records claimed there should’ve been more credit than there was, but the actual funds were gone. Vanished. And the worst part? Deltta personally approved every single financial move the Council made. Every signature ties the mess back to him.”
“It’s set up for him to take the fall,” Ludiin said softly.
“Yes,” Tarymn said, frustration curling in his stomach. “Do you see why I’m stressed out?”
Ludiin didn’t answer. His nose wrinkled before he leaned in, close enough that Tarymn could feel the faint brush of his breath. The omega inhaled deeply, his moan filling the silence.
Tarymn went rigid, every muscle locking as his wolf reared its head. His aggression rippled along his skin. Losing control, his true nature taking over. He bit down on his tongue holding it at bay.
“What are you doing?” he managed, his voice tighter than he liked, doing his best not to fucking slip.
“Your scent,” Ludiin murmured, another breathy moan slipping free. “I feel dizzy and…”
Horny.
Ludiin didn’t have to say it. Tarymn could already smell the sweet, intoxicating scent curling through the air, baiting him, teasing him.
A low rumble rose in his chest before he could think, and then he was pulling the omega close, nose pressed against the column of Ludiin’s neck, his mouth found the warm curve where shoulder met neck, right where an alpha’s claiming mark would be and lingered there.
Ludiin shivered, the tremor running straight through Tarymn’s arms.
Tarymn hauled him closer, chest to chest, fingers locking around Ludiin’s arms as his teeth grazed that soft skin.
The sound Ludiin made— a half whimper, half plea— drove him insane.
A growl tore loose, raw and dangerous, want clawing at his restraint.
He was seconds away from sinking his teeth into flesh, from doing something neither of them could undo.
With a jolt, he tore himself back, the taste of Ludiin’s skin still lingering on his tongue.
“Shit,” he rasped, staggering to his feet, heart pounding. “I need to go.”
Without looking back, he took the stairs two at a time, stunned by what just happened.
***
Ludiin
Ludiin stared at the empty spot where Tarymn had been sitting, his whole body trembling. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. All he could do was feel . His skin still burned where Tarymn had bitten him.
No, he hadn’t bitten him. But in that moment, it had felt like he had.
Ludiin dragged in a ragged breath, nails sinking into his thighs as his hole spasmed.
He was so horny.
God, he felt like he was going to lose his mind.
What the hell happened?
One minute they were talking and then there was this dizzying pull and Tarymn’s scent became thick… intoxicating, alluring, dangerous. He’d wanted more, wanted to drown in it.
Then Tarymn had dragged him close roughly…
Fuck, Ludiin bit into his bottom lip to keep from moaning as another wave of need washed over him.
What the fuck?
He sat frozen for what felt like forever before dragging himself upright, his arms and legs shaking so badly it took effort to walk to the workbench. Work became impossible. The sketches on his e-reader blurred, his hands clumsy, his concentration shot.
Were they going to pretend this hadn’t happened too? The thought coiled tight in Ludiin’s chest.
He wasn’t sure he could, when the memory still burned on his skin. But he knew he had to. Tarymn was his stepbrother.