Chapter 29
“You and Michael?” Jules said, his voice lifting over the background chatter of the ballroom.
“Keep your voice down,” Anthony said, glancing at his watch. Michael was supposed to arrive soon. His stomach tightened, a restless mix of impatience and excitement humming under his skin. Tonight he would make it clear to everyone that he was courting Michael. That Michael was his.
Four months.
He couldn’t believe he’d agreed to wait four months.
But it would be worth it. He wouldn’t let anyone so much as glance sideways at his mate.
“But you and Michael?” Jules said, still looking dumbfounded.
“I’m not surprised,” Liam cut in.
“Neither am I,” Jon said, nuzzling Liam’s temple.
Anthony used to scoff at such needless, public displays of affection. But considering the fact that these days he wanted to touch Michael all the time and had to actively suppress the urge in public, he could definitely relate now.
Where was Michael?
“You’re both full of shit,” Jules said. “There’s no way you noticed something when I didn’t!”
Liam laughed. “We may not be as nosy as you, but we’re not blind. And unlike you, we aren’t busy with countless royal duties. Where’s your main royal duty, Your Highness?”
“Devlin is speaking to some Calluvian diplomat over there,” Jules said, shooting his mate a longing look before turning back to Anthony. “So, Michael. How did it happen?”
“How do such things happen, kid?” Jon said wryly, and Liam laughed.
“Stop calling me a kid, brother dearest,” Jules said snidely. “I do have kids of my own these days, if you recall.”
“All the more reason you should know exactly how these things come about.”
Anthony tuned them out. Michael was finally here.
“Holy shit,” Jules said.
“Yeah,” Li said. “Look at the way Ant is looking at him.”
“Like he wants to lick him from head to toe?” Jules said.
“Basically,” Liam said with a laugh.
“Oh my fucking gods, Ant, quit being so obvious.” Jules waved his hand before his face. “This is a public place.”
“I’m supposed to start courting him today,” Ant said, without looking away from Michael. “I can look at him all I want.”
“I hate to break it to you,” Jon said wryly, “but that’s not how alphas court omegas in polite society.”
“Exactly,” Liam said, sounding a little embarrassed. “Please stop looking at him like you’re...”
“...imagining him naked and under you,” Jon finished for his mate.
“Gross. You’re actually at the finishing-each-other’s-sentences stage,” Jules said. “How adorable. But I agree—Ant, you don’t look at an omega you intend to court like that.”
Anthony let out an impatient breath. “And how am I suppose to look at him? If you’re such experts?”
Liam at least had the grace to exchange an embarrassed look with Jon. “All right, to be fair, we didn’t exactly have a traditional courting, either.”
Jules snorted at that. “That’s the understatement of the century, considering that you two were sleeping together while you thought you were brothers.”
Blushing, Liam glared at him. “At least I didn’t steal my brother’s fiancé.”
Jules flushed. “Devlin wasn’t your fiancé yet,” he said defensively. “He was actually my mate already! He just didn’t remember it!”
“Neither of you has any right to lecture me on traditional courting,” Anthony said dryly. “So zip it. I’ll court Michael however I want.”
“Have you at least told him you love him?” Jules said. “That’s the most important part.” Liam was nodding in agreement.
Anthony opened his mouth and cleared his throat. “It’s none of your business.”
“That means no,” Jon said with a smirk.
Anthony shot him a hard look. “Don’t you start, you fucking hypocrite.”
“To be fair, I couldn’t tell Liam that I loved him because I was heavily injured,” Jon said. “What’s your excuse?”
Anthony scowled. “How would I know if what I feel is—that?”
His brothers fell silent.
Anthony couldn’t look at them. He kept his gaze on his friend.
There was understanding in Jon’s blue eyes but thankfully no pity. “You’d know,” Jon said quietly, taking Liam’s hand into his own and entwining their fingers. “Deep down, you know. All of us do. If he’s yours, you feel it in your heart when you look at him. Someone who belongs there.”
Liam brushed his lips against Jon’s cheek, his eyes warm. “Yeah,” he said softly.
Glancing toward his mate, Jules nodded, a smile on his lips. “I bow to the wisdom of the superior Anthony,” he said with a cheeky bow to Jon, who laughed.
Anthony scoffed, but he was still thinking about Jon’s words as he headed toward Michael.
If he’s yours, you feel it in your heart when you look at him. Someone who belongs there.
He felt... the words felt true, deep in his bones.
He felt full when he looked at Michael, like the world finally made complete sense.
He wanted to swallow Michael whole, bones and breath, warmth and softness.
When they weren’t close, it felt like there was this thread strung taut between them, invisible but unyielding.
It tugged at him with every glance, every heartbeat.
He couldn’t get enough of him, of his smiles and I love you’s.
Michael was perfection wrapped up in one imperfect, lovely package. His. His mate.
His love.
“What’s with that face?” Michael said with a curious smile when Anthony reached him. “You look like you just got huge news and have no idea how to handle it.”
Anthony roved his gaze over that lovely face, over the warm dark eyes and beautiful smile, and just—he couldn’t stand it. He had to tell him. “I love you,” he said, taking Michael’s hand and bringing it to his face. He pressed his cheek against it, nuzzling into his hand greedily. “I love you.”
Michael stared at him with wide, startled eyes before a gorgeous smile lit up his face. He licked his lips and glanced around, which made Anthony finally remember that they had an audience. Shit, had he fucked everything up already?
“I take it this is your declaration of intent to court me,” Michael said, his eyes dancing with mirth. “Though I must say, it’s quite an unusual way of doing it.”
So he hadn’t entirely fucked it up, thank fuck.
Turning his face, Anthony pressed his lips to Michael’s palm. It wasn’t how alphas kissed omegas’ hands. He knew he was supposed to brush his lips against the air over Michael’s knuckles. But this felt more true. This felt more them.
Michael’s gaze became unbearably warm. “I want to dance with you,” he said.
Whatever you want, Anthony thought dazedly. I’ll give you whatever you want.
He could feel the speculative gazes on them as he led Michael to the dance floor, but he didn’t even glance at their audience.
Let them talk.
Let them gossip.
None of it would touch them. None of it would ever destroy what they had. He would not let it.
Anthony drew Michael into his arms, and they danced, the rest of the world fading away.