* * *
Adam felt the darkness deepen around them as the sun dipped fully behind the mountain.
He glanced back.
‘Ah.’
A faint red glow lingered at the edge of the deepening blue sky.
The beauty of it struck his heart, and heat pricked behind his eyes.
‘I don’t want to die.’
But being dragged away by them was worse. His legs tensed.
‘I regret this.’
If only he’d told the dukes… if only he’d said something, anything.
Adam lunged toward the cliff.
The men shouted as he moved without hesitation.
“Hey—hey!”
His belly twisted violently.
Feeling the baby’s kick, Adam clenched his teeth, preparing to leap one last time.
His right foot pushed hard against the ground—
Bang!
A sharp crack split the air. Adam froze.
‘Damn.’
He should’ve jumped right away.
Startled, he flinched without thinking.
He bent his knees again to spring forward—but stopped when a scream rang out behind him.
“AAAH! Aaaaagh!”
Adam turned, startled.
One man was writhing on the ground, clutching his shoulder.
Even in the dusk, Adam could see the shoulder was shattered, blood pooling beneath him.
“Ah…”
A sound, half gasp, half sigh, slipped from his lips.
His dazed gaze drifted forward—
A horse burst through the men before they could react.
They didn’t even try to stop it, too afraid of being trampled.
The horse charged straight to Adam.
Still clutching his stomach, Adam looked up.
His green eyes, wet with unshed tears, trembled.
Thump, thump, thump, thump!
His heart pounded faster than it had at the cliff’s edge.
The calm he’d forced earlier was gone, replaced by waves of emotion.
“…Isaac.”
Isaac dismounted from his horse.
A pistol was in his hand.
Adam felt as if he were dreaming. How could Lord Isaac be here…?
“You weren’t… supposed to be at the palace…”
Adam couldn’t finish his sentence—because Isaac suddenly pulled him into a tight embrace.
His broad, solid chest was warm.
The alpha scent radiating from him wrapped around Adam’s entire body.
The tension that had been wound up tight inside him slowly melted away.
“Your clothes are filthy… Adam.”
He’d tried not to sound like he was about to cry, but failed.
His voice came out hoarse and choked.
Adam looked down at the arms holding him.
Isaac’s body was trembling, ever so slightly.
Lord Isaac…?
Is this really the Isaac I know?
Or am I truly dreaming?
Adam stared in shock at those arms—until a sudden shout rang out.
“Ugh!”
Someone moved swiftly through the men surrounding them—it was Chester.
He slammed his elbow into the man holding a rifle.
The gun that had been aimed at Isaac and Adam clattered to the ground.
Snatching up the rifle, Chester immediately took aim.
The group of men flinched as one, even though they had been ready to rush in. Chester was smiling.
“Go ahead. Make a move.”
His tone was almost gentle.
“I’m still deciding who to shoot first. Do me a favor—make yourselves stand out, yeah?”
The men twitched nervously.
If it had been anyone else, they’d have attacked by now.
They outnumbered him, and he was alone—on paper, an overwhelming advantage.
But they didn’t move.
Not when the one holding the gun was Chester.
If he could kill a dragon, what chance did a handful of men have?
Wariness crept over their faces.
They held their breath.
And then—
Bang!
One man went down, clutching his leg.
His sword fell from his grasp.
Chester swung the rifle butt into another man’s head and muttered,
“Waiting’s too damn boring.”
The sudden shift made Adam stomp his foot in frustration.
He couldn’t help worrying Chester might get hurt like this.
“It’s fine.”
Isaac had read his thoughts.
He spoke calmly, then raised his pistol skyward.
Another shot rang out, tearing through the air—a signal flare to alert their allies.
“Is it really fine? Those men— their swordsmanship was no joke.”
“What about you?”
“…What?”
“I asked—are you fine?”
Adam blinked, then nodded.
Meanwhile, the fallen men staggered back to their feet. Adam tensed, inhaling sharply.
But strangely, none of them charged at Chester again.
Instead, they turned and fled.
Even the man who’d been shot limped away at full speed.
“Huh? Why…?”
“If they get caught, it’s over,” Chester said, tossing aside his sword.
“They’d have to reveal who orchestrated this whole thing. If they couldn’t get their target, they’d at least make sure no evidence was left behind.”
“…Ah.”
Chester stepped closer, scanning Adam from head to toe.
The scrutiny made Adam fidget.
“…I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Just… everything.”
Before Chester could answer, Isaac wrapped an arm around Adam’s shoulders.
The warmth of his touch made Adam bite his lip, swallowing down the lump in his throat.
“Adam.”
Chester spoke his name quietly.
“What were you planning to do at the cliff?”
“…”
“Were you going to jump?”
Adam’s head dropped.
Shame burned through him.
“I thought… that would be the best way for you, my lords… I swear, I didn’t mean to abandon the baby. I’m so… sorry.”
“You were actually going to die?”
“…”
“You—”
Chester stopped.
Silence stretched between them.
Adam fidgeted with his fingers, unable to meet his gaze.
Then—Chester’s fingertips brushed the cut on his cheek.
The touch was unexpectedly gentle.
Adam found himself looking up.
“Idiot,” Chester murmured.
“That’s your idea of helping us? Wrong, Adam. That’s not for us at all. If you’d died…”
He broke off, face twisting as though the thought alone was unbearable.
Adam stared at him, then looked away.
“…Ah.”
Isaac pressed a kiss to Adam’s forehead.
Even though Adam’s skin was slick with sweat, Isaac didn’t seem the least bit put off.
His lips carried only a deep, unshakable tenderness.
“…I like you.”
A breeze stirred.
The trees swayed, leaves whispering in unison—shaa, shaa…
“I like you both, my lords. A lot. And it’s not just admiration.”
Adam’s throat worked as he swallowed.
Even though he thought he’d said something foolish, a strange sense of relief filled him.
He looked up at both of them.
Isaac and Chester’s expressions were strange—perhaps they hadn’t quite grasped his meaning.
So he clarified.
“I’m in love with you.”
Isaac’s brow twitched.
Chester’s mouth opened, then closed.
In the heavy stillness, Adam gave an awkward smile.
“I just wanted to say it at least once. Please forgive my rudeness.”
Pathetic, Adam Ross.
To confess like this, covered in blood.
Surely no one could look more wretched—sweat on his face, clothes in tatters, limbs bruised all over.
And yet, he’d blurted out that he liked them… loved them.
‘Still, I wanted to say it.’
It was the thought he’d had when he’d resolved to die.
That he regretted never confessing to his lords—not even once.
Adam tilted his head back toward the sky.
In the deepening dark, silver stars were beginning to appear, one by one.
“We should… get down from here…”
He was about to say more, but the world suddenly spun.
Strength drained from his limbs, and he collapsed where he stood.
Voices cried out, distant and muffled.
“Adam! Adam!”
It was a desperate call.
Adam tried to answer.
To say he was fine, that he was just so happy they had come.
But no words came.
The pitch-black abyss swallowed him whole—and he lost consciousness.
* * *
