10. Chapter 10
Ludiin
I t had felt like this.
Ludiin tightened his fingers around the Lumina sculpture, testing the weight, the girth, and bulging veins.
It was the exact replica of Tarymn’s cock—well, how he remembered it anyway.
Ludiin’s fingers twitched around it, trembling with a mix of anticipation and anxiety.
He knew this was madness, but he couldn’t stop himself from making it.
A creak behind him sent a breath rushing out of his lungs. His heart leapt into his throat.
Tarymn.
For a second, he was sure the alpha had come waltzing into the den unannounced, like he always did, and caught him. He darted a glance over his shoulder, pulse thudding in his ears.
Empty.
Of course. Tarymn wouldn’t be coming up here anytime soon. He was in heat.
Ludiin bit the inside of his mouth hard enough to taste blood as his heart clenched for reasons he didn’t want to name.
Stupid. He slammed a fist against his chest.
So what if Tarymn was tangled up with another omega right now? He should be out looking for an alpha himself instead of making a pleasuring bot that looked exactly like Tarymn’s cock.
“What are you doing?” Luci’s voice cut in from behind him.
Ludiin jerked, swallowing a curse. Why was everyone creeping up here like this wasn’t his private space? He needed a damn door. Preferably one that locked.
“Ohhh…” Luci stepped closer, eyes catching the soft sheen of the prototype sitting on the workbench next to the sculpture. “Are you making pleasuring bots now? This looks... eerily real. Does it work?”
“I haven’t tested it yet,” Ludiin said tightly, “but I’m sure it works.”
Luci tilted his head, studying both the bot and Ludiin. “Why are you making pleasuring bots? I thought you built heavy machinery?”
Ludiin shifted under the weight of his gaze. “It’s for my heat. I didn’t like the bots you bought me.”
That wasn’t the problem. The bots were fine.
He just… he wanted this. Maybe if he built it, if he recreated even a fragment of that night, it would be enough. He wouldn’t have to go searching for an alpha.
A little pathetic and maybe even creepy, if he was being honest, but the idea of going out there, of putting himself in front of alphas. That scared him more.
“Oh,” Luci said, his voice softening like he was easing into dangerous territory. “You know, meeting an actual alpha would be better.”
I know! Ludiin wanted to snap. But it wasn’t that simple for him. It never had been. The words caught in his throat and burned there.
“I know just the alpha who’d be amazing for you,” Luci continued, oblivious to the storm quietly gathering in Ludiin’s chest.
Ludiin winced, shoulders tensing.
“He’s sweet, patient, and obsessed with books,” Luci added with a hopeful lilt. “Exactly your type. We should reach out. Maybe meet for a drink.”
“No,” Ludiin said sharply.
“Please? I really want to get out of the house. Tarymn just summoned his second service omega.” Luci pulled a dramatic face and gave a theatrical shiver. “Ew.”
Ludiin grimaced. His stomach turned. Second?
“Second?” he echoed.
Luci nodded, utterly unfazed. “Aggressive alphas are very demanding during heat. It’s intense.
Brutal, sometimes. It takes a special omega to handle them.
Most omegas can’t handle it.” He flicked a hand in the air like it explained everything.
“I don’t want to be here. You’re coming with me. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Ludiin exhaled. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to get dressed, put on a face, or sit across from some sweet, book-loving alpha while pretending he wasn’t still tangled up in thoughts he had no business thinking.
But staying?
Staying meant spending hours obsessing over what Tarymn was doing. And who he was doing it with.
It shouldn’t bother him.
But it did.
So much it made his ribs ache.
It was insane.
“Get ready in an hour. We’re going out,” Luci called as he disappeared down the stairs.
Ludiin let out a slow, resigned sigh and turned back to the Lumina sculpture. Maybe he shouldn’t finish it. Maybe making this was crossing a line he couldn’t uncross.
Tarymn was his stepbrother. And the more time they spent together, the more Ludiin found himself drawn to him, in the way he wasn’t supposed to feel about his stepbrother. He liked him. Like liked him.
Ludiin dropped his face into his hands with a groan. He was so fucking pathetic.
Maybe he really should consider finding an alpha.
If he was being honest, he hadn’t really tried.
Just the idea of being around alphas made his lungs feel tight, his tongue twist into knots, and his body want to fold itself into the nearest crack in the floor.
But that didn’t mean it was impossible. Surely there had to be an alpha he could speak to without wanting to throw up.
He could talk to Tarymn just fine now. And he’d been terrifying at first. Plus, Tarymn didn’t seem to mind his awkwardness, or at least he pretended not to.
Surely that meant something.
“I should try,” Ludiin murmured, gently placing the sculpture into a box under the workbench, his fingers lingering on the edge before he straightened with a quiet breath and went to get ready.
An hour and a half later, he was 99% sure he was going to die alone.
Not only had he managed not to stutter when meeting the alpha, which should’ve been a win, but then he spilled hot tea all over him.
Ludiin wasn’t sure how it happened. One moment, he was taking the cup from the serving bot; the next, it slipped, tilting just enough for liquid to arc through the air in a glittering spray and splash across Baron’s chest.
Why Luci abandoned him with the alpha, Ludiin would never know.
“I’m so so…sorry, Baron,” he stammered for the fifth time, dabbing uselessly at the alpha’s soaked shirt with a napkin. Baron kept insisting it was fine, but the redness blooming beneath the thin fabric of his long shirt suggested otherwise.
“Excuse me,” Baron muttered, making a beeline for the washroom like a man fleeing a crime scene.
Ludiin sat frozen, barely breathing, his heart thudding in his throat. He could feel everyone staring at him like he’d grown a second head.
With trembling fingers, he fumbled out his connector and jabbed at Luci’s code like it was his lifeline.
“I’m done,” he bit out as soon as Luci answered.
“Already? Ludiin, you’re not running, are you?”
“You should probably come check on your alpha friend. I think he has third-degree burns. I’m leaving.”
“Wait there, I’m coming,” Luci said quickly.
Ludiin waited, slumped low in his chair, cheeks ablaze with humiliation. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Baron hovering near the shrubbery, peeking out, eyes scanning for the nearest escape route.
Their gazes met.
Ludiin didn’t look away. Go, he willed silently. Run if you want. I won’t blame you.
But Baron came back, slowly settling into his chair like someone bracing for another spill.
“Luci’s on his way,” Ludiin said quietly.
“Oh,” Baron replied, awkward.
“It was nice to meet you,” Ludiin added, trying to sound polite. “But I don’t think this is going to work out.”
Baron blinked, clearly not expecting that. But really, what else could he expect?
By the time Luci arrived, Ludiin was already on his feet, grabbing his brother by the arm and dragging him out.
“Baron, we’ll talk!” Luci called over his shoulder.
The moment they were inside the hover pod, Ludiin turned to him, eyes blazing.
“I told you not to leave me alone with him. And you left anyway.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not. You don’t get it. I’m not like you. I can’t just walk up to strangers and make jokes and flirt and pretend I’m not dying inside.”
“I thought you needed this,” Luci said quietly. “You hide in that house all day, every day, and I just… I thought if you saw what was out there, maybe…”
“I’m not like you,” Ludiin cut in again, turning to the window.
“I know,” Luci whispered. “I just wanted to help.”
“I know,” Ludiin said gloomily, voice barely a whisper. The feeling of failure clung to him like a second skin, heavy and inescapable. The only reprieve was working on his pleasuring bot and combing through the Council of Alphas’ financial records.
Using his brain always lifted his mood. Made him feel useful, even needed. It was a small reminder that even though he wasn’t like other omegas, it didn’t mean he was useless, no matter how often he fumbled and burned potential alphas. Shame, Tarymn wasn’t there to see how useful he could be.
Tarymn was in his room. With another omega.
Did aggressive alphas really need more than one omega? Or was it just… him? Ludiin glanced at Pitra, tempted to ask, but bit the inside of his mouth instead and forced his eyes back to his work.
Days passed, each one more miserable than the last as he thought of Tarymn with another omega.
He hadn’t thought it could get worse, but by the end of Tarymn’s heat, he’d had enough.
And their rooms being so close to each other didn’t help.
More than once, Ludiin thought he heard soft, moans coming from inside that made his stomach twist.
His weird feelings for Tarymn were getting out of hand.
They were growing. Not in the safe, manageable way he could ignore. No, they were mutating. A slow-burn craving that lit up every nerve when the alpha was close. It was overwhelming.
And thanks to Deltta’s case, they were practically glued at the hip from the moment Tarymn returned to take his place from Pitra.
Long hours bled into longer nights as they combed through every financial document Deltta had ever signed.
Every waking hour was spent in each other’s company, shoulders nearly brushing as they worked.
Ludiin closed his eyes, silently begging the universe to give him some space, or at the very least, the courage to ask Tarymn to sit just a little farther away.
The couch was big enough, but the alpha sat close.
Too close. His thigh brushed against Ludiin’s, and fresh from his heat, he smelled so good.
His scent was thicker, deeper, muskier. Ludiin inhaled without meaning to, then cursed himself.
Fuck.
A shiver ran down his spine as he gripped the e-reader like it was his lifeline. He edged away.
Tarymn leaned closer.
Ludiin silently thanked God it was finally over. The endless hours, the constant proximity. It was done.
“Does this mean the documents Deltta signed weren’t real?” he asked, brows pulling together. He looked boyish in that moment, all curiosity and confusion. Adorable. Ludiin’s breath caught.
“Uhm… They were real,” he managed. “But they hid something. The overlays were created using visual forgery software. It presents legitimate-looking documents but buries the altered numbers beneath.”
“How do we prove that?”
Ludiin tapped the e-reader screen and handed it to him. “Here. Pitra helped me weave a disabling software into the system. Now we can see the embedded data.”
“Sonofabitch,” Tarymn muttered, then paused. "No one’s going to pick up on the software, right?”
“No, I deleted it the moment we uncovered the evidence. Unless someone’s shadowing the Alpha King’s every move in real time, there’s no trace.
” “Then let’s hope no eyes were on him,” Tarymn muttered, exhaling sharply.
A grim smile ghosted over his lips. “Even if they were, we’ve got enough to prove Deltta’s hands are clean.
Now all that’s left is to dig up the evidence that points to those bastards, not Langley.
” His eyes hardened. “It’s time for the official investigation to begin. ”
Ludiin stood and made a beeline for the workbench, stretching his arms over his head as though the movement could loosen the tightness inside him.
He needed distance. Not that it would help. His feelings clung like a stubborn screw. Too tight, too deep, impossible to untangle.
Then…he froze as arms slipped around his waist. Warm. Solid. And very much Tarymn.
“What…?” Ludiin gasped.
“Thank you,” Tarymn murmured, lips brushing the side of his neck in a soft, unexpected kiss. Before Ludiin could react, the alpha pulled away. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” Ludiin asked breathlessly.
“I’m making you a midnight snack,” he said, already tugging Ludiin toward the stairs.
“It’s late. I should go to bed,” Ludiin tried to protest, but his feet were already moving, heart thudding a little too loud in his chest.
He should pull away. Say he was tired. Yawn and make some excuse. But the truth was…he wasn’t tired at all. If anything, he was too awake, nerves tingling like he’d swallowed a live wire.
And as much as he tried to stay away from Tarymn, being around the alpha felt…
good. Too good. Addictive. Dangerous. Maybe he was a masochist. Or maybe he just liked feeling wanted.
Either way, he stayed, sliding onto the counter and watching Tarymn move around the cooking station like it was his stage.
The alpha was humming…. and it made something warm curl in Ludiin’s chest.
“You’re happy,” Ludiin observed, a small smile playing at his lips.
“Yes, I am,” Tarymn said, sauntering over. He leaned in, bracing his arms on either side of Ludiin, caging him in without touching. “You’re my little genius.”
Ludiin’s breath caught. The world shrank to just the two of them and this sliver of space in between.
Would it be weird if I kissed him? His heart thudded. They’d kissed before. It wouldn’t be that weird… right?
No.
What was he thinking? He internally shoved the thought away, cheeks heating.
“I am a genius,” he said, scrambling for anything to say.
Tarymn laughed, and Ludiin found himself laughing too, tension momentarily broken.
“You should come with me tomorrow to meet Deltta,” Tarymn said.
“I can’t,” Ludiin replied. “My heat starts tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Tarymn paused, stepping back slightly. “Have you found an alpha?”
Kind of , Ludiin thought, the tips of his ears burning.
Tarymn nodded slowly, misreading the look on his face. “Good… that’s good,” he said, and then again, softer. “Good.”
Ludiin didn’t correct him. Because if he did, Tarymn would start suggesting alphas, offering to help. And Ludiin didn’t want help.
He wanted him . Even though he really, really shouldn’t.
“What are you making?” Ludiin asked, forcing his voice to sound casual as he shoved his feelings so far down where he couldn’t feel them.