Chapter 110: Peach Tea and Pheromones
Trevor entered the suite Dax had prepared for him and Lucas without knocking.
It was late morning, the sunlight already pouring through the tall windows in gentle gold. The curtains were open, spilling warmth across the marble floors and catching on the edges of the pale sheets. The air smelled faintly of citrus soap and paper—Lucas’s usual calm chaos.
Soft music drifted from the speaker near the balcony—one of Lucas’s picks, something piano-heavy and strangely soothing, the kind that always made Trevor think of memories that refused to bleed.
NovelFire
Lucas was in bed, not asleep as Trevor had assumed. He sat tucked beneath the sheets, hair still damp from a recent bath and swept to one side, a digital agenda resting lightly against his knees. Windstone must have scanned his morning notes and formatted them digitally so Lucas could write as he remembered, not worry about structure or timelines.
Trevor lingered in the doorway for a moment. Lucas’s eyes moved steadily across the screen, stylus tapping against the surface once, pausing. He didn’t glance up at the sound of the door.
"You should be resting," Trevor said softly as he crossed the threshold.
Lucas raised his gaze to the alpha and smiled faintly. "I thought I was. But apparently, writing counts as sin now."
Trevor’s steps slowed for half a breath. "Windstone would agree with that statement. And he scares me."
Lucas’s lips curved wider, just slightly.
Trevor discarded his coat on a nearby chair and opened his shirt collar, his ring shining in the light of the room.
He crossed the room without another word.
He leaned over the bed, one hand braced beside Lucas’s pillow, the other brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. Lucas watched him, his red lips slightly open, his scent just a little stronger than before; it was so faint that most of the alphas wouldn’t notice it, but he did, and Gods, it was temptation incarnate. Trevor leaned lower, brushing his lips over Lucas’s, sensing the tremble in them.