Chapter 183: Phenomenal
Chapter 182
Ciel
Walking into the room in the morning, my knees weaken because of the sheer amount of alpha pheromones in here. It’s almost suffocating—thick and heady, wrapping around me like a second skin.
I walk further in. Jack is on a phone call, a towel riding low on his hips. His hair is still damp. His shoulders are broad. His back is sculpted.
He’s so stupidly attractive.
He smiles at me, and I almost swoon.
But my target is my best friend.
Is he alive?
I walk toward the bed.
The bedding has been changed—fresh sheets, fresh pillows. Someone has been busy. Nolan is passed out, naked, with a sheet draped low on his hips.
Seems we just have Greek bodies around here, I think to myself, looking at his muscular chest. The way his muscles shift even in sleep. The way his skin catches the morning light.
I count.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Bite marks. On his shoulder. Three on his neck. And one on his nipple.
His lips are swollen. His hair is a mess. There are dark smudges under his eyes—the kind that come from not sleeping. Or from sleeping too well.
"You killed my best friend," I whisper to Jack.
He walks toward me, gives me a satisfied smile.
"I know, I know I’m packing, but I’m not that dangerous," he says.
"Someone’s got a newfound confidence." I fold my arms.
"It’s not confidence." He wraps his hands around my waist, pulling me against his chest. "You should have heard your soulmate last night."
He inhales my neck. Nuzzles it. His breath is warm against my skin.
He smells like his pheromones. The expensive soap. Sex.
And Nolan.
"You smell like him," I say.
"I should, with how deep I was in him." He wraps his arms tighter, pulling me closer. "You have no idea. I actually had to hold myself back from knotting, you know."
"That good?" I ask.
"Phenomenal." His voice is low, like he’s remembering something sacred.
I choke out a laugh.
Nolan stirs on the bed,a soft sound with a shift of his shoulders. Jack and I both freeze.
He doesn’t wake up.
We stumble away from him, wobbling awkwardly because Jack refuses to let go of me. His arms are locked around my waist. My back is pressed to his chest. We’re like two drunks trying to walk in tandem.
I turn in his arms. Come face to face with him.
"Who were you on the phone with so early?"
"Nolan’s job. They called."
"But it’s a Saturday."
"I know." He shrugs. "Guess our Nolan is indispensable. I lied and said he wasn’t feeling well."
"It wasn’t a lie." I glance back at the bed. At Nolan’s sleeping form, the marks on his skin, the way he hasn’t moved an inch.
"I’m sure he’s going to wake up feeling like a truck hit him."
Jack grins and kisses my forehead.
"I’m going to dress up and head over to see my son." He moves away, reaching for his clothes.
"Lanny is still asleep."
"I’m going to watch him until he wakes up." He pulls his shirt over his head. The fabric catches on his damp hair.
"That’s creepy," I say.
"Excuse me." He turns to face me, shirt half on, looking genuinely offended. "In ten years, he’ll be a teenager. And what if he hates me then?" He tugs the shirt down.
"I’m going to make use of every second I still have left."
I stare at him.
Genuinely, you’d think he gave birth to Lanny.
***
Jack
Lanny has fallen asleep on my chest. I lie on the floor in his room, watching the night lights we put up—little stars and moons that cast soft shadows across the ceiling. My eyes are heavy. I’m dozing off.
I mean, I did have an eventful night, after all.
I hear movement. Open one eye.
Ciel lies down next to me.
He leans on his elbow and looks at Lanny and me. His hand comes up to pat Lanny’s back—gentle, rhythmic, the way he always does when our son is restless. Some crimson strands fall onto his face.
He’s beautiful.
It genuinely stuns me sometimes. How he’s real. And mine.
How can you look at his face and not want to give him the world?
Then my thoughts drift to the dukes.
I ruin my own mood.
"You shouldn’t have let him sleep," Ciel says. "He’s going to be fussy at bedtime."
"I’ll handle it."
He smiles. Soft. Warm.
"I want to talk to you about something."
"Sure." I shift slightly, careful not to jostle Lanny. "What’s on your mind?"
Ciel is quiet for a moment. His fingers trace idle patterns on Lanny’s back.
"My heat is coming soon. I’m sure you’ve noticed."
I have. He’s been more proactive than usual. I catch him sniffing my worn shirts. His pheromones are unstable, very inconvenient when you’re public space because my body reacts immediately to his pheremones.
"I may have," I say.
He smiles softly.
"There are things we have to discuss prior."
I nod.
"Firstly, about the mating mark..." He starts.
I wait for him to continue.
"Logically speaking, it’s the best time. And I trust you... I do." He pauses. "But..."
I watch his face. The way his brow furrows. The way his fingers still on Lanny’s back.
"You’re not ready," I gently finish for him.
He exhales and looks at me.
"I logically understand that I need to. Everyone is telling me to. It’s also for my own safety—having your mark would keep me safe from other alphas." He pauses, his brow furrowing.
"But even though I know it logically, I don’t know why I’m still afraid. I trust and love you, Jackson. I really do."
I shift carefully, taking his hand in mine, mindful not to disturb Lanny between us.
"Hey, sunshine." I squeeze his fingers. "It’s okay."
"It doesn’t feel okay."
"It doesn’t have to." I bring his hand to my lips. Kiss his knuckles.