Chapter 8 #3
Ren peeled his eyes open, squinting at the rays of sun filtering in through the window. The room was bathed in a dull, golden hue of the slowly rising sun. Ren never woke up this early, never usually got to see the quiet start to the day.
Ren never woke up to the sun nowadays, there were no windows in his prison.
He blinked several times, trying to will away the fogginess that had glazed over them in the night.
He raised his head, neck craning. The back of his head bumped into something, and the soft breath and tightening of arms around him made Ren freeze. His eyes widened, heart rate ticking up several notches as he gazed down at himself.
He was still fully clothed, though he was covered in sticky, red blood that had stained the white sheets beneath him. Tan, muscular arms were wrapped around his waist, holding him so tightly Ren was surprised his ribcage could expand at all.
He knew what he would see when he looked behind him, so he squeezed his eyes shut, taking a few long, deep breaths. He didn’t want to turn around yet.
But when he did, he saw a familiar head of chocolate brown hair.
Falk looked far younger when he was asleep, his eyelashes fluttering on his cheeks.
His plush lips were slightly open, and small, barely noticeable little snores left his mouth on each exhale.
His breath tickled Ren’s skin and he couldn’t help the little smile that pulled on his face.
Falk was also fully clothed—he wasn’t covered in blood like Ren was, though.
After a quick scan of the room, and a few long, deep breaths again, Ren realized they must be in Falk’s room. As Ren pondered over how he got here, it hit him all at once—he was out. He was out of the prison. He was in the castle—he could go, he could run.
Falk was fast asleep behind him, so warm and pliant where he was pressed so entirely against Ren’s back, molded to him like he was meant to fit there. He would never notice if Ren left now, probably wouldn’t even remember he was there at all.
But no matter how many times Ren psyched himself up to get to his feet, to go, to run, no matter how many escape plans ran through his mind—all of them so easy now that he was free from his cell—he couldn’t get himself to move.
He chewed on his lip as he looked back at Falk again and finally forced himself to move.
He turned over onto his other side so he was facing Falk. The Alpha shuffled a bit in his sleep, eyebrows pinching together as though angry his pillow had moved. Ren settled down again, content to stay there a little longer, watching Falk’s soft expressions and twitches.
Ren knew he was being an idiot; he should have gone when he had the chance. But he had made his decision, which was cemented in stone a while later when Falk’s eyes finally peeked open.
He seemed as dazed as Ren had felt when he had first woken up.
Ren smiled, raising up a hand to stroke his fingertips gently, softly, over Falk’s cheek. The Alpha jerked back at first, but quickly melted into the touch.
“Ren?” Falk whispered, voice so quiet, as though disturbing the silence would make Ren disappear.
“Hi,” Ren whispered back.
“What are you…” Falk trailed off, gaze flicking around as he took in where they were and who exactly was in his arms. He stiffened and asked, “How are you here?”
Ren shook his head. “I don’t really know.”
“You don’t know?” Falk echoed.
“It was the Blood Moon last night,” Ren murmured.
“How did you… get out of your cell?”
Ren shrugged.
Falk watched him warily, eyebrows raising slowly, “Are you… going to run?”
Ren smiled sheepishly. “I should, shouldn’t I? I should have while you were sleeping.”
Falk stared into Ren’s eyes as though looking for something. “Why didn’t you?”
Ren’s voice shook as he said, “I don’t know.”
They fell quiet at the confession.
Ren made a soft noise of surprise when Falk’s arms tightened around him again, and gasped when Falk buried his face in the crook of his neck. Ren blinked as Falk nuzzled against him, and slowly raised his arms to wrap around Falk’s neck and shoulders, holding him there.
Ren let his eyes slip closed, letting himself relax as he felt Falk’s lips press against his throat. He could stay like this forever, but he had to break the spell eventually. He asked, “So… what happens now?”
Falk froze at the question, arms tightening even more around Ren. “I don’t know.”
“Do I… Will you put me back down in the prison?” Ren whispered.
Falk sounded pained, voice nearly cracking as he said, “I will have to, yes.”
Ren let out a shaky breath. “Can’t you just… let me go? I promise I won’t… hurt anyone again. I promise I won’t kill anyone again.”
Falk’s grip tightened to the point Ren thought he might bruise from it, making him whimper slightly.
“I know you won’t, Ren… but I have to do my job.
” Ren wanted to argue, but the fight had left him, his bones hollow.
“Please… trust me, please,” Falk whispered after a few minutes.
“I will not let you die in that prison cell.”
Ren didn’t know why, but he decided to actually believe him.