* * *

Nael was perched on Killian’s thigh.

No, to be precise, he had been placed there. Killian had hoisted him onto his lap, saying it might hurt otherwise.

Nael could feel the deep rise and fall of Killian’s breathing against his back.

Like a puppet on strings, Nael followed Killian’s hands as they guided his movements.

Killian cut a thick piece of meat on the plate, speared it with a fork, and brought it to Nael’s lips.

Or rather, he fed him directly.

“I can eat by myself.”

“You can’t. You’re trembling even now.”

Killian’s knife slid smoothly across the meat, slicing it into neat pieces.

He pierced one and held it up to Nael’s mouth.

It should have tasted heavenly, but it felt rough and awkward, as if he’d stuffed crumpled paper into his mouth.

His muscles felt heavy, like soaked cotton.

“Can I stop eating and just sleep?”

He was utterly exhausted. Eating meat in his current state felt almost absurd.

He had no memories of ever consuming meat that bled juices and ran with red liquid.

He should have been grateful that Killian was offering such a meal, yet his appetite dwindled to nothing despite himself.

It was the kind of fatigue that followed grueling labor.

His eyelids felt heavy, but he couldn’t rub his eyes—both hands were held.

Nael tilted his head back to look at Killian, hoping that meeting his gaze might prompt him to let go.

Instead, Killian leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, smiling warmly.

That rare smile, so soft and affectionate, made him seem almost gentle, even though he was usually cold and unyielding.

It was confusing.

Was the real Killian the one who plunged him into darkness?

Or the one treating him so tenderly now?

As long as he didn’t try to escape, it should be fine.

Killian’s obsessive attachment to him would eventually fade.

Emotions, after all, become transparent and disappear with time.

Just as the baron had grown indifferent to his mother.

In the place of fading emotions, only traces of memory remain.

Unable to resist the weight of his closing eyelids, Nael leaned against Killian’s shoulder and welcomed the sleep that overtook him.

---

A hand gently stroked his hair.

Nael felt the roughness on the surface, yet underneath, there was a softness—along with Killian’s scent enveloping him.

He didn’t want to open his eyes.

So, he deliberately pretended to be asleep.

Because if Killian realized he was awake, he would undoubtedly push that magnificent cock of his inside him again.

Sex itself wasn’t the problem.

It was good—so good.

But was it strange to say that it was exhausting?

Nael was spent.

He needed a little rest.

Knock, knock.

At the sound of a crisp knock, Nael flinched instinctively.

Had they noticed he was awake?

He even held his breath.

“Come in.”

Killian’s voice was as cold and indifferent as ever.

The way he commanded those beneath him made him seem utterly devoid of emotion—unyielding, upright, and unwavering, as though he could never be broken.

“Your Grace, you should step outside for a moment.”

“What is it?”

Aiden remained silent.

Even though he had dared to ignore the Grand Duke’s question, Killian simply acknowledged it and got up from the bed.

The mattress dipped under his weight before shifting back.

It almost felt like the bed was groaning in relief from supporting his heavy frame.

Only then did Nael finally exhale the breath he had been holding.

With the window shut, the bedroom was illuminated solely by the flickering glow of candlelight.

The dim atmosphere felt suffocating.

‘Ugh…’

Would he ever get used to this?

Between his legs, something warm trickled down, soaking the sheets in a circular stain.

The sensation of something seeping out from inside him wasn’t exactly pleasant.

A soft groan escaped his lips without him realizing it.

When he forced himself to sit up and look at his own state, he found it truly pathetic.

His entire body—licked, sucked, and bitten as if he were some kind of decadent treat—was covered in bruises and deep red marks.

Click.

The bedroom door opened.

Nael immediately yanked the blanket over himself in a panic.

If it had been Killian, he would have feigned sleep again.

Thankfully, it was Ren.

“You’re awake.”

A tray with freshly baked bread, still steaming, and a warm beverage was placed on the nightstand.

Ren rubbed his nose awkwardly.

Nael felt his face heat up—so much so that it was practically about to explode.

The entire room reeked of last night’s activities.

Embarrassed, he pulled the blanket over his head, burying himself completely.

“Lord Nael. If you don’t remove all of the semen, you might end up with a stomachache.”

That was the first time he had ever heard such a thing.

Then again, the only thing he knew about sex was what he had done with Killian.

“How do I get it out?”

“You need to reach in with your fingers and carefully scoop it out… Normally, you would do it yourself, but if it’s too difficult, I can assist—”

“No!”

Nael cut Ren off sharply.

The only thing allowed inside him was Killian’s body.

He couldn’t even fathom the idea of Ren’s fingers scraping against his inner walls.

That was absurd.

“I’ll do it myself.”

“In that case, I’ll prepare water and a clean cloth for you. But if it becomes too difficult—”

“I can do it.”

After being rejected multiple times, Ren didn’t insist any further and left the bedroom.

He really did have to get it out.

The thought of a stomachache was troubling, but it took him an embarrassingly long time to actually work up the courage to slip a finger inside.

He hesitated, over and over again, shifting between deciding to do it and pulling back.

Finally, he pulled off the blanket and spread his legs.

At first, all he could do was trace the entrance with his fingers, repeating the motion mindlessly.

Was he really supposed to do this?

Every day…?

Killian hadn’t said anything about taking him daily, but knowing how insatiable he was, it was only natural to assume as much.

‘Value.’

If he thought of it as a price for keeping his sister safe, then maybe it would feel a little more bearable.

‘Just do it.’

There was no point in whining about the pain—Killian wasn’t the type to show mercy.

If he got sick, he would be the only one suffering.

“Ugh…”

As his index finger slipped inside, he could feel the swollen, sensitive walls.

The inside of his body was still soaked, his fingers coming away slick.

Maybe that was why Killian liked his ass so much.

“Haa… Come out…”

Not knowing exactly how much to remove, he simply moved his fingers around aimlessly.

“What are you doing, Nael?”

‘Hiiik.’

A pitiful squeak escaped him.

He hadn’t even heard the door open.

He hadn’t noticed that massive body stepping into the room.

Nael froze, rigid as ice, unable to even glance at Killian.

Instead, he bit down hard on his lower lip.

“Hm. Was it uncomfortable?”

Killian observed the white liquid still trickling from his entrance and murmured to himself.

Nael nodded frantically.

“Len said I’d get a stomachache if I didn’t remove it.”

“I see.”

“…Master.”

His eyes drooped like a drenched puppy’s.

He wasn’t… seducing him again, was he?

“Go on.”

* * *