Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Allowing Aksel this small comfort was the least Lucien could do after the boy had helped him so much—not just tonight, but every day. Aksel was the only person in the world who made Lucien feel good about himself. The only light in his life. He could only imagine what a depressed wreck he would have been if it weren’t for Aksel.
“Good night, Luce,” Aksel said, burying his face in Lucien’s neck and nuzzling his scent gland.
He’ll grow out of it soon, Lucien thought sleepily before finally drifting off, feeling safe, warm, and cared for.
Years later, he would look back at that day and realize that it had been a mistake. He shouldn’t have been so indulgent with Aksel. So soft.
Aksel Cleghorn was a force of nature. Give him an inch, and he would take a mile.
Part II
Chapter Four
Eleven years later
Aksel fell sick when he was eighteen.
He was weak and feverish, and he completely lost his appetite. What little food Vagrippa and Lucien managed to talk him into eating, he threw up. And threw up. And threw up.
It was beyond alarming, because Aksel had never gotten sick in all the years Lucien had known him. Never. He had grown into a tall, imposing young man, his body as strong as his personality. It just felt wrong for him to be bedridden.
“What’s wrong with him?” Vagrippa demanded the moment the doctor emerged out of Aksel’s room.
“Is it dangerous?” Royce said, stepping forward.
Lucien bit the inside of his cheek hard to force himself to stay quiet. He was just a second spouse of Aksel’s late father. It was lucky that Vagrippa was too worried and distracted to tell him to leave. Normally, she was a jealous mother, especially when it came to Lucien and Aksel’s relationship.
In the years since Lucien had joined the Cleghorn family, his relationship with Vagrippa hadn’t improved. She was perfectly amicable in public on the rare occasions Lucien left the house with the family, but at home she talked at him rather than to him. Things had become worse ever since Garrick’s untimely death a few years ago. Oh, she had never been outright rude to Lucien, but the lack of warmth in her gaze was obvious. Vagrippa didn’t like him. She didn’t seem to like how close her younger son was to Lucien. She didn’t like that Aksel always took Lucien’s side whenever Vagrippa criticized him.
Lucien still winced whenever he remembered the look on Vagrippa’s face a few months ago, when she discovered Aksel in Lucien’s bed. Lucien hadn’t even been able to say anything in his defense—he had just stood there, feeling ashamed and chastised and unsure if he deserved it. He’d felt fourteen all over again, called vile things he didn’t feel like he’d earned. He hadn’t been able to utter a word. Not that it mattered much; Vagrippa and Aksel had done all the yelling. When Vagrippa had finally calmed down, she admitted that she might have overreacted but had said in no uncertain terms that Aksel was forbidden from sharing Lucien’s bed again.
“You’re no longer a child,” she had said when Aksel had just scoffed. “Surely you understand how inappropriate it is, Aksel!”
Aksel’s jaw clenched. “There’s nothing inappropriate about sharing a bed with a member of your pack. You would say nothing if you found me in Belinda’s bed.”
Vagrippa hadn’t appreciated his lack of contrition. She’d remained unmoved. But so had Aksel. He had stood firm, an alpha to the tips of his toes. He’d refused to concede that his mother was right—until Lucien cut in and promised her that it would never happen again. Lucien still remembered the furious, betrayed flash of Aksel’s blue eyes. He still remembered how hard it had been not to drop his gaze meekly and side with Aksel.
And that was still the problem, wasn’t it? He was terrible at saying no to Aksel. It didn’t seem to matter that Lucien was a decade older and should be the one who held the power in their relationship. He didn’t. Frankly, sometimes he wondered if his mental growth had been stunted at fourteen. He didn’t feel like a grown man. Partly it was probably because he’d had a very limited social circle for over a decade. He hadn’t finished his schooling. He rarely left the estate. He didn’t have any friends. All he had was the Cleghorns: Mr. Cleghorn, while he had still been alive, Royce, Belinda—and Aksel, of course. Truth be told, while Lucien was very fond of Belinda and had eventually grown fond of Royce, Aksel had always meant more to him than his siblings. Aksel was... he was the center of his life. Had been for well over a decade.
That wouldn’t have been a problem if Aksel were a beta or an omega. But he was an alpha. And despite Aksel not having gone through his first rut, his pheromones were already strong enough to make Lucien’s hindbrain think that Aksel was his pack alpha. It was kind of humiliating, that his biological need for an alpha was pathetic enough to latch onto someone nearly a decade his junior and recognize his authority over him. Well, to be fair, the fault lay partly with Aksel, too. He was too pushy. Too assertive. He didn’t seem to understand the meaning of personal space where Lucien was concerned. While Mr. Cleghorn had respected Lucien’s boundaries—respected his desire not to be touched and scent-marked—Aksel had just pushed through his initial resistance, scenting him and scent-marking with the innocent stubbornness of a child who didn’t understand boundaries.