* * *

That piece of advice had to be an absolute truth.

“Well, if you insist,” Haywards finally relented.

Fortunately, he didn’t press the matter further.

Remy silently thanked every deity he could think of that there was no talk of “just trying it once.”

“How’s your ankle feeling?”

“M-My ankle?”

“Yes. You hurt it earlier, didn’t you?”

“Oh, right. My ankle. Yes, I twisted it.”

The events in the bathhouse had been so overwhelming that Remy had momentarily forgotten his injury.

“I’m not sure. It feels like it’s getting better… or maybe not.”

“Let me take a look.”

“Pardon? You, Your Highness?”

“It might be swollen. I should check its condition.”

“No, Your Highness, there’s no need—!”

Ignoring Remy’s desperate protest, Haywards moved closer.

His sharp, slightly damp gaze pierced through the rising steam, embedding itself in Remy’s mind.

Even his damp silver hair, cascading over his shoulders, seemed like a masterpiece.

This ethereal beauty left Remy internally screaming.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

“Y-Your Highness!!”

While Remy was momentarily distracted by Haywards’ overwhelming presence, the prince knelt directly before him.

Before he could react, Haywards reached into the water and lifted Remy’s right leg.

Water trickled down his slender calf, revealing a pale, delicate leg as it emerged from the bath.

Fortunately, the water obscured anything higher, but his thigh was exposed far enough to leave him mortified.

“This is the ankle, right? The one you injured?”

Haywards asked with a gentle tone and expression, as if he were Apollo incarnate.

Supporting Remy’s ankle with one hand and cradling the top of his foot with the other, he looked as though he had stepped straight out of a myth.

If someone poured plaster over this scene, it would undoubtedly become an eternal masterpiece.

“Y-Yes, Your Highness…”

“Does it hurt?”

“N-No…”

“And now?”

Haywards carefully rotated the ankle.

A sharp jolt of pain surged through Remy.

“Hngh!”

A small gasp escaped him as his body instinctively flinched.

“Are you okay, Remy? Does it hurt badly?”

Haywards asked with genuine concern.

Remy bit his lip several times before responding slowly.

“N-No… Not too bad… just a little tingly…”

Haywards frowned slightly as he listened.

His gaze lingered on Remy’s flushed cheeks and lips, made redder by the steamy bath.

The sight of Remy, biting his lips and speaking in such a soft tone, was dangerously captivating.

The tented bath was filled with mist, creating an almost dreamlike haze.

Through the open ceiling, the dark sky glittered with stars, while the only sound was the occasional ripple of water.

Everything about the atmosphere was breathtaking.

Caught in this moment, Haywards stared unabashedly at Remy’s face.

“Your Highness…”

Remy didn’t look away from Haywards’ piercing gaze.

His leg, held gently by the prince, seemed to radiate heat, as though it might ignite at any moment.

Not just his leg, but his entire body felt ablaze under Haywards’ smoldering, intent eyes.

“I’m… excited. So hot. It feels like my body’s burning…”

“How about here? Does it tingle?”

Haywards pressed gently on a spot near Remy’s ankle.

“Hngh!”

Remy shuddered, a small sound slipping out as he recoiled slightly.

His breath grew ragged as he stared at Haywards, lips trembling, unable to form coherent words.

“What about now?”

Haywards released the pressure but brought Remy’s ankle closer to his lips.

“Does it still tingle like this?”

Without waiting for an answer, he pressed his lips against Remy’s ankle.

His soft, warm lips grazed the delicate skin, and he slowly began to kiss it, gently drawing the skin into his mouth.

“…Ah.”

Remy’s lips parted involuntarily as a sound he didn’t recognize escaped.

Leaning back slightly, he felt himself completely unravel.

Half-lidded eyes framed by long lashes glanced up at him as Haywards held his ankle like a treasure.

The pale beauty of the prince, with his lips against Remy’s ankle, was almost vampiric, exuding an eternal, otherworldly allure.

Caught in the languid, intoxicating atmosphere, entranced by Haywards’ sensuality, Remy couldn’t gather his thoughts.

A faintly sweet scent seemed to permeate the air, one so alluring it made him want to give in completely.

As Remy’s body grew limp, like melting ice cream, Haywards slowly lifted his lips from his ankle.

His gaze swept over the water-slicked leg with an almost unbearable intensity as he spoke in a low, deliberate voice.

“Tell me, Remy. Does it tingle now?”

Remy could barely focus, his mind clouded by the heat coursing through him.

His strength faded as his body leaned further back.

“Mmm… Your Highness, that’s…”

“Tell me. How does it feel…?”

Haywards, desperate for an answer from Remy, kissed the young man’s ankle once more.

This time, he didn’t linger in one place but slowly moved his lips downward.

Following the straight line of Remy’s shin, his lips pressed softly against the pale skin as he moved.

Each time those pink lips grazed his white legs, Remy found himself gasping for air, his back arching involuntarily.

The unfamiliar sensations overwhelmed him, leaving him dazed and confused.

He couldn’t comprehend what he was feeling, but his mind had grown too hazy to focus on understanding it.

His chest felt tight, his breathing labored. His head throbbed, and a strange tingling sensation stirred deep in his abdomen.

With his body reacting in ways that felt anything but normal, Remy’s grasp on reason began to slip.

As Haywards trailed kisses along his calf, his hand gripped Remy’s ankle while the other moved to his thigh.

The lower his hand went, the lower his lips traveled, and with each descent, Remy felt as though he was on the verge of letting go of something he shouldn’t.

His head swam, too foggy to think clearly.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a faint thought surfaced: he should stop this.

Yet, Remy found himself incapable of doing anything.

The pheromones that had seeped deep into his lungs left him powerless, and without understanding why, his body grew heavier, hotter, more pliant.

“Remy.”

Haywards’ hands grew bolder.

“How about here?”

His hand moved further inward, his voice low and coaxing.

Even as Haywards’ hand slipped beneath the folds of Remy’s gown, the young man couldn’t open his eyes fully, letting out shallow, heated breaths.

“Tell me what you feel. Do you like it?”

Haywards’ touch was slick and unrelenting, his large hand trailing over Remy’s sensitive skin.

Each brush of his fingers sent shivers rippling up Remy’s spine, igniting a burning heat below.

“Remy. Answer me.”

“Your Highness…”

“Let me have you.”

“That’s…”

“Hmm? Remy?”

Another wave of that intoxicating scent engulfed him, and Remy let out a soft whimper, his body jolting enough to make the bathwater ripple.

“Hurry… let me have you.”

At that moment—

“What in the world are you doing?”

A cold breeze swept through, and a firm hand seized Haywards’ wrist, pulling it away.

Water splashed back into the bath as Haywards’ gaze snapped to the intruder.

“Ashton.”

Haywards growled lowly, glaring at the man who had interrupted him.

But Ashton was undeterred, his face tight with displeasure as he released a wave of sharp, hostile pheromones.

“What do you think you’re doing? And right in front of me, no less.”

“That’s what I should be asking you,” Ashton replied coldly.

“What?”

“What on earth are you doing? Using pheromones to toy with an omega who hasn’t even gone through his first heat?”

“Toying? I told you before—I’m serious.”

“Serious? You call unleashing your pheromones to seduce someone ‘serious’? Is that the extent of your sincerity, Your Highness?”

Haywards jerked his hand free and rose to his feet.

Standing completely bare, droplets of water sliding down his toned frame, he squared off against Ashton.

* * *