[BL]Reborn as the Empire's Most Desired Omega
Chapter 107: Embrace in the sunshine

Chapter 107: Chapter 107: Embrace in the sunshine

Lucas exhaled slowly and resumed his walk, hands behind his back like nothing had happened.

"Let me guess, Trevor and Dax have escaped their duties and now are searching for me."

Windstone nodded, his tone as dry as ever. "Indeed. They’re on the balcony. Enjoying the view."

Lucas didn’t even look up. "Of me or the chaos?"

"Why not both?" Windstone replied, utterly unfazed. "Though if I had to wager, the General looked more inclined to leap down than spectate. His fingers were twitching."

Lucas let out a soft sound—half sigh, half laugh—as they turned a corner of the path. "He promised not to start wars for me."

"And yet," Windstone said, lifting a brow, "he married into one."

Lucas smiled, small and sharp. "Then he should’ve read the fine print."

They walked a few more steps in silence before Windstone added, more gently this time, "That was well-handled. You didn’t flinch."

"I used to cry when people spat at me," Lucas murmured. "Now I debate whether it’s worth remembering their names."

Windstone’s expression didn’t change, but the slight shift in his stance—the protective edge softening to something fonder—said enough. "Would you like me to file a formal report on the Vassinger girl?"

Lucas shook his head. "No need. She already embarrassed herself. Let Trevor handle the fallout if he wants to flex his rank. I’m sure he’s itching to."

Windstone gave a slight, knowing bow. "Then I’ll make sure the palace staff know to redirect any future pests to the outer gardens."

"And send them a map," Lucas added, eyes flicking briefly toward the upper terrace where two silhouettes still leaned at the railing. "The long way around."

—

Trevor met him just past the sun-warmed fountain, quiet in his stride but not hidden—Lucas had known he was coming before the footsteps ever reached him.

"Your shoes are too expensive to sneak," Lucas said without turning.

"Good thing I wasn’t trying to." Trevor’s voice was low and steady, a touch too calm in a way that made Lucas glance back.

He was still in his uniform jacket—unbuttoned now, collar askew from being tugged, likely by his own hand while pacing. His jaw was tight, eyes too sharp for the setting sun behind him.

Lucas didn’t move. "If you’re here to scold me—"

"I’m not," Trevor said as he closed the space between them with slow, deliberate steps. "But I might have to start questioning the security protocols of every palace we visit."

Without another word, he slid his hands around Lucas’s waist and gently pulled him back, aligning their bodies as his taller frame folded over Lucas’s. His forehead settled into the nook of Lucas’s neck, the sigh that left him more instinct than thought.

Lucas didn’t resist. He raised a hand, fingers slipping through Trevor’s hair—sun-warmed and soft, falling easily between his knuckles. He traced a slow stroke behind Trevor’s ear, his touch quiet but sure.

"You know," Lucas said, his voice light, "if anyone sees us like this, they’ll say I’ve got you under some sort of spell."

Trevor let out a low hum, not quite denying it. "I might be."

He breathed in again, slower this time. Lucas’s scent was still faint, barely there—but it was changing. Sharpening. And Trevor, for all his restraint, was starting to unravel around it.

"Your heat," he murmured, "will come faster than the doctor said."

Lucas tilted his head, just slightly, letting Trevor stay tucked into him, letting the quiet settle around them like a silk curtain.

"I’m afraid of it," he said quietly, barely a whisper meant for the wind and no one else. "I never went through it naturally. I don’t know what will happen."

Trevor didn’t answer right away. He stayed where he was, letting his pheromones drift gently around Lucas. A quiet reassurance, like sunlight through gauze. When he finally spoke, his voice matched that calm.

"Well," he said, "you have me now. And I can guide you—but only with what you’re comfortable with. You can’t take suppressants, but I can."

Lucas didn’t answer immediately. A part of him was relieved—Trevor wasn’t trying to claim him out of instinct or rut, wasn’t demanding anything. But another part hesitated. It wasn’t fair for Trevor to shoulder control while he unraveled alone. The idea of being the only one vulnerable made his chest tighten.

"I don’t know what I should do," Lucas admitted. "I want us both to be vulnerable... but at the same time, I’m glad you care about me more than your pride."

Trevor hummed softly, his breath brushing warm over Lucas’s skin as he nuzzled deeper into the curve of his neck. His arms around Lucas tightened.

"I understand," he said, his voice low and firm. "I won’t lie—heat is important for people like us. It’s biological, yes, but it’s also bonding. And there’s no shame in needing or wanting it."

He lifted his head slightly, just enough for his lips to brush the shell of Lucas’s ear.

"But I want you without it too. I already do."

Lucas didn’t answer right away. His gaze had shifted—fixed now on a marble statue across the garden, its features worn by time, some long-dead king of Saha, its crown chipped at one side like it had never fit quite right.

"What if the mark fails?" he asked quietly. The words were almost lost in the wind. "What if I fail?"

Trevor stilled, the question slicing through the calm like a sudden gust.

Then—deliberate, unhurried—he brought Lucas closer. One arm curled around his waist, the other settling across his chest like a vow. He exhaled, not heavily, but with the weight of something understood.

"So that’s what’s been haunting you." His voice was low, but steady. "Lucas, I’m more satisfied to hear that you want my mark than I thought I would be. That alone..." Trevor trailed off, letting his fingers trace a light line across Lucas’s side, grounding him.

"A mark made by a dominant alpha doesn’t fail—especially not on a dominant omega," he continued. "If it didn’t hold in your past... it was because of the alpha, not you." NovelFire

There was no hesitation in his tone. No doubt. Just the simple, unwavering truth of someone who had chosen him already.

Lucas let out a quiet breath. Not quite a laugh, but close.

"You’re better at comforting than you look," he said, his tone laced with dry amusement.

Trevor didn’t move. "Deflecting, aren’t we?"

"A little."

"Understandable." His voice softened as he kissed the side of Lucas’s head. "Let’s get you to eat something before Windstone comes after us with that disappointed father stare. You know the one."

Lucas made a face. "He’ll start measuring my meals again."

Trevor grinned. "He never stopped."