[BL]His Devotion Has Teeth

Chapter 39: Chapter 39: Tomorrow afternoon.

Nero returned from the bathroom eleven minutes after entering it.

That qualified as rushing.

He had still washed properly, cleaned Sebastian’s blood from his skin, conditioned his hair, and used enough product to ensure the white-blond length would dry correctly instead of becoming an offense against civilization.

There were limits to sacrifice.

His hair remained damp down his back when he stepped into the bedroom, several pale strands clinging to the shoulders of the black shirt he had pulled on with soft lounge trousers.

Then he stopped.

Sebastian was asleep.

He had apparently dressed and made it no farther than Nero’s bed before exhaustion finished what the physicians, pheromone collapse, and several hours of stubbornness had begun.

The charcoal trousers Nero had offered him sat lower on Sebastian’s hips than they did on Nero. The black T-shirt stretched across his shoulders and chest, unmistakably Nero’s despite the fact that it had never been worn before.

Nero looked at him for several seconds.

There were worse things to return from a shower to.

He crossed the dim bedroom quietly.

Most of the cabin lights had been lowered. Warm illumination followed the edges of the wall panels while silver daylight filtered through the aircraft windows above an endless layer of clouds.

Sebastian lay on his side near the center of the mattress, one hand beneath Nero’s pillow and the blanket caught loosely around his legs.

His hair was still wet.

Nero crossed the room without making a sound and sat carefully on the mattress beside him.

Sebastian did not wake.

The exhaustion showed more clearly now that his expression had finally relaxed. There was still too much sharpness beneath his cheekbones, something Nero intended to discuss once Sebastian possessed enough strength to become properly hostile about it, and faint discoloration remained beneath his eyes despite the blood having been washed from his face.

Nero lifted one hand.

He hesitated only briefly before threading his fingers through Sebastian’s soft, damp hair.

Nero combed through another section, separating the strands gently so they would not dry tangled against the pillow, then allowed the smallest amount of pheromonal energy to collect around his fingertips.

His abilities had always been broad.

Pressure, temperature, sensory manipulation, dominance, suppression, and stabilization; enigma pheromones were annoyingly willing to become whatever Nero had enough control to make them.

Fire remained his favorite. Not actual flame this time. Only heat.

A low warmth moved through the dark strands beneath his fingers, carefully controlled so it never reached Sebastian’s skin strongly enough to disturb him. Moisture lifted gradually from his hair, evaporating in faint traces while Nero worked from the ends upward.

Sebastian shifted.

Nero froze.

His pheromonal field reacted before Sebastian could wake fully, softening around the bed until sound seemed to lose its edges and the vibration of the aircraft engines dulled into something distant and harmless.

Sebastian exhaled.

Then settled deeper into the pillow.

Nero smiled.

He continued.

The bedroom door opened several minutes later.

Hale entered without knocking.

At fifty-seven, thirty-two years of service to Dax had reduced his capacity for being surprised by the Altera family almost to nothing.

His brown eyes moved from Nero to Sebastian. Then lower to Nero’s bed, Nero’s shirt, and Nero’s trousers.

Nero sitting beside Sebastian with one hand threaded through his hair.

Hale’s red-brown hair remained clipped in the same military cut he had worn for decades, and his expression stayed professionally composed.

One eyebrow rose.

That was all.

Sebastian’s breathing changed faintly at the disturbance.

Nero expanded his pheromones before the movement could become wakefulness.

The space around the bed altered.

Sound dulled to nothing beneath a thin field of controlled pressure, vibrations disappearing before they could reach Sebastian.

Hale watched it happen.

”Useful.”

”He needs sleep.”

”So I gathered.”

Nero continued drying the last damp strands near Sebastian’s neck.

Hale approached the bed, stopping far enough away that his presence would not disturb the air around it.

”Everything is ready. Residence medical staff are waiting. The airfield route is secured, the private wing is cleared, and Duncan has already increased the inner perimeter.”

”Good.”

”Fitzgeralt is also sending his belongings.”

Nero’s hand paused.

Hale noticed immediately.

”Tomorrow morning,” he added.

Nero looked at Sebastian.

At the black shirt fitted across him.

”No.”

Hale glanced down too.

Understanding came without difficulty.

”How long?”

”Tomorrow afternoon.”

Hale considered that for perhaps two seconds.

”Easy enough.”

Nero looked at him. No judgment followed. Of course it did not.

Hale had served Dax for thirty-two years.

A prince wanting his intended mate dressed in his clothing probably did not even qualify among the twenty most possessive things Hale had witnessed before breakfast.

”He has everything necessary here,” Nero said.

”I can see that.”

”His shipment encounters a delay.”

”I’ll arrange one.”

Nero resumed moving his fingers through Sebastian’s now-dry hair.

Hale’s gaze lingered briefly on the borrowed clothing.

”You planned this?”

”No.”

”Pity. It would have been efficient.”

Nero smiled.

”He refused initially.”

”That sounds more like Sebastian.”

”He surrendered to practical necessity.”

”That sounds considerably less romantic.”

”I’m choosing another interpretation.”

”I assumed you would.”

There was quiet amusement beneath Hale’s voice rather than disapproval.

Nero glanced toward the wardrobe.

”He can continue using mine until his things arrive.”

”Yes.”

”The delay should be believable.”

”Nero, I have been manufacturing believable inconveniences for your father since before you were born.”

”That is why I trust you.”

”Among other reasons.”

Nero’s expression softened by a degree.

There were very few people alive who could speak to him like that.

Hale had earned the privilege before Nero was old enough to understand what earning it meant.

”Duncan,” Nero said.

Hale’s attention sharpened immediately.

”What about him?”

”I want him on Sebastian.”

”Permanent detail?”

”For now.”

Hale studied the sleeping alpha.

That order carried considerably more significance than delaying luggage.

Duncan Crone was one of Nero’s most trusted security officers. Moving him onto Sebastian meant Sebastian was not being treated as a visiting noble anymore.

He was being brought inside Nero’s personal perimeter.

”Directly under me?” Hale asked.

”You and me.”

”Access protocol?”

”Medical staff cleared in advance. Household personnel restricted to the assigned wing. Anyone else goes through Duncan.”

”Family?”

”They enter.”

”Unrestricted?”

Nero considered it.

”Security screening only. I’m not keeping his parents from him.”

Hale nodded.

”And if Sebastian dismisses Duncan?”

”He won’t have the authority.”

Hale’s mouth twitched.

There it was.

That was the part Hale had expected.

Sebastian was entering Saha unstable, medically vulnerable, and very likely to mistake stubbornness for independence the moment he regained enough strength to argue.

”Duncan will enjoy that,” Hale said.

”He enjoys difficult assignments.”

”He enjoys winning arguments without speaking.”

”Even better.”

Hale looked once more toward Sebastian.

”He stays with Duncan until you say otherwise?”

”Until I’m satisfied he can protect himself again.”

That answer earned a small nod.

No lecture followed.

Hale understood possession.

More importantly, he understood responsibility.

Sahan alphas did not announce something was theirs and then leave it undefended.

”I’ll brief Duncan personally.”

”Thank you.”

Hale turned toward the door.

”Nero.”

Nero looked up.

Hale’s brown eyes returned briefly to Sebastian, asleep beneath Nero’s hand and surrounded by enough of Nero’s scent that nobody entering the room could misunderstand the situation.

”He looks better.”

Some of the tension left Nero’s shoulders.

”He is.”

”Good.”

Hale reached the door.

”And Hale.”

A resigned glance came back. ”The luggage.”

”I heard you the first time.”

Nero smiled.

Hale’s gaze dropped deliberately to Sebastian’s shirt.

”Personally, I would make it evening.”

Nero stared at him.

Hale opened the door.

”Your father trained me.”

The door closed behind him.

Nero looked down at Sebastian.

Then at the black shirt.

His smile returned slowly.