Elian woke up with a crick in his neck and a boner that could cut diamonds.
He groaned, uncurling himself from the velvet chaise lounge. The room was dim, the heavy curtains blocking out the early morning sun, but the air...
'Oh sweet mother of musk,' Elian thought, inhaling deeply. 'The air is thick enough to chew.'
The room smelled like a concentrated storm—heavy, electric, and aggressively masculine. It was the scent of a resting Alpha who had spent eight hours marinating in his own pheromones.
Elian sat up, rubbing his face. His Omega biology was currently screaming, 'Mate! Mate! Mate!' while his rational brain was screaming, 'Pee! Pee! Pee!'
He checked his timer.
[Time Until Death: 65 Hours, 10 Minutes.]
He had slept for six hours. Thanks to the "Safe Zone" buff, he had only lost three hours of life instead of six.
'I hacked the system,' Elian grinned sleepily. 'I am a genius. A genius with a stiff neck.'
He glanced toward the massive four-poster bed.
Cassian was still asleep. The Prince was sprawled on his stomach, one arm hanging off the side of the mattress, his face buried in the pillow. The sheet had slipped down to his waist, revealing the broad expanse of his back and the deep groove of his spine.
And, because the universe loved to test Elian, Cassian's privacy shorts had ridden up slightly, exposing a tantalizing glimpse of a muscular thigh.
'Don't look,' Elian told himself, immediately zooming in with his eyes. 'Okay, look a little bit. It's for science. I need to check his... hydration levels. Yes. That thigh looks adequately hydrated.'
Elian stood up quietly, his valet instincts kicking in despite the thirst. He needed to be useful before Cassian woke up. If he could prove that having a live-in valet was efficient, maybe he wouldn't get kicked out tonight.
He tiptoed to the wardrobe, grabbing a fresh uniform for Cassian. He laid it out on the chair. He moved to the basin, pouring fresh water.
Then, the bed creaked.
Elian froze.
Cassian groaned. It was a low, rough sound, deep in his chest. He rolled over onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes.
The sheet slipped further.
Elian's eyes drifted south.
'Oh,' Elian thought, his mouth going dry. 'Hello there.'
The Prince was definitely awake. Or at least, part of him was. The tent in the privacy shorts was impressive. Historically significant, even. It stood at attention like a loyal soldier saluting the dawn.
'System,' Elian pleaded internally. 'Do I get points for enduring this? This is a workplace hazard.'
[System Notification: Target Arousal Detected (Morning Wood). Threat Level: Low (Unless Provoked).]
"Elian," Cassian's voice rasped. It was thick with sleep, gravelly and deep.
"I'm here, Your Highness," Elian whispered, stepping into the line of sight.
Cassian moved his arm, cracking one eye open. He looked confused for a second, disoriented by the presence of another person in his sanctuary. Then, memory returned. His eyes focused on Elian.
"You are loud," Cassian muttered.
"I haven't said a word, Sire."
"You are thinking loudly."
Elian flushed. 'Can he hear my internal monologue about his thigh? Oh god.'
"Water, Sire?" Elian offered, bringing the glass.
Cassian pushed himself up to a sitting position. The sheet pooled at his waist. He ran a hand through his messy hair, making it stick up in tufts that somehow made him look even hotter.
He took the glass, his fingers brushing Elian's.
[Contact: +5 Seconds.]
Cassian downed the water in one go. He handed the glass back, his gaze sweeping over Elian.
"You look like you slept on a rock," Cassian noted.
"The chaise is very comfortable, Sire. Better than the servant's quarters."
"It is too short for you," Cassian said. He swung his legs out of bed. "Tonight, bring extra pillows."
Elian's heart did a victory lap. 'Tonight! He said tonight! I'm renewed for Season 2!'
"Yes, Your Highness. I will build a fortress of pillows."
Cassian stood up and stretched. His back cracked. His muscles rippled. The morning wood bobbed enthusiastically.
Elian squeezed his eyes shut. "I will prepare the bath."
"No time," Cassian said, walking toward the washbasin. "I have a strategy meeting with the Generals in twenty minutes. Just a shave."
Elian hurried over, grabbing the razor and the hot towel. This was intimate. Shaving a man's throat was an act of extreme trust.
He lathered Cassian's jaw. He tilted the Prince's head back.
[Contact: +5 Minutes.]
Elian worked in silence, the razor gliding over the stubble. He could feel the pulse in Cassian's neck fluttering against his thumb.
"Elian," Cassian murmured, his throat vibrating against Elian's hand.
"Steady, Sire," Elian warned. "Sharp object."
"Ambrose will be waiting outside," Cassian said. "He usually waits to 'accidentally' bump into me on my way out."
"I figured," Elian said, wiping the last bit of foam from Cassian's chin. "He's persistent."
"He will be displeased that you are in here."
Elian smirked, toweling off Cassian's face. "Let him be displeased. I have the razor."
Cassian caught Elian's wrist. He pulled the hand away from his face, looking Elian in the eye.
"You are enjoying this," Cassian noted. "Provoking him."
"It's a perk of the job, Your Highness," Elian grinned. "Keeps the blood pumping."
Cassian huffed a laugh, releasing him. "Get dressed, Valet. We are leaving. And Elian?"
"Yes?"
"Do not look so smug. It ruins your innocent act."
Ten minutes later, Elian opened the heavy oak doors of the Royal Bedchamber.
He didn't just open them. He swung them wide.
Standing in the hallway, hand raised as if to knock, was Ambrose.
Ambrose was dressed in a pale yellow tunic that looked like spring sunshine. He held a tray of tea. He looked ready to deliver a "Morning Greeting" event.
When he saw Elian standing in the doorway—coming out of the bedroom—Ambrose dropped the tray.
Crash.
The tea splashed over Ambrose's expensive shoes.
"Good morning, Player One," Elian chirped, leaning against the doorframe. "You dropped something."
Ambrose stared at him. He stared at the rumpled state of Elian's uniform (from sleeping on the couch). He stared at the bedroom behind him.
"You..." Ambrose whispered, his face draining of color. "You slept there?"
"It was a slumber party," Elian said. "We braided each other's hair and talked about boys. Well, I talked about boys. The Prince mostly snored."
"Liar!" Ambrose shrieked. "The System didn't notify me of a 'Sleepover Event'!"
"Maybe you need to update your software," Elian suggested.
Cassian stepped out from behind Elian, fully dressed and looking imposing. He stepped over the shattered tea set without pausing.
"Ambrose," Cassian said coolly. "You are making a mess."
"Your Highness!" Ambrose gasped, tears springing to his eyes instantly. "I came to wake you... I didn't know he was..."
"Elian is my personal valet," Cassian said, not stopping. "It is his job to be where I am. Clean this up."
He walked away down the corridor.
Elian gave Ambrose a little wave. "Better luck next time, Goldilocks."
He turned to follow Cassian, falling into step within the WiFi Zone.
[System Notification: Ambrose -10 Hearts (Major Jealousy Event).][Current Leaderboard]1. Rowena: 262. Ambrose: 173. Elian: 12
'He dropped below Rowena!' Elian realized with a jolt of joy. 'The White Lotus is wilting!'
He checked his timer. [Time Until Death: 65 Hours, 15 Minutes.]
He was alive. He was climbing.
"Today," Elian whispered to himself, "is going to be a good day."