Later, when the house had gone quiet and Mia had retreated upstairs, Lucas slipped into the bedroom he shared with Trevor. The space was dim, the city lights bleeding faintly through the tall glass windows, softening the edges of polished furniture and neatly folded clothes left by the staff. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

He shrugged out of his shirt, dropping it over the armchair, and padded into the bathroom. The mirror reflected him in clean lines, thin, pale, but steady. He turned the taps, steam beginning to curl up from the tub as water rushed in, the sound filling the silence.

As he unfastened his watch and set it carefully aside, the thought pressed against him, uninvited:

Andrew Black.

In the past life, he remembered the name whispered once or twice at court. The new heir of the family. A capable heir that made himself known throughout the empire. Someone Lucas had only seen from a distance, in those earlier days when Christian Velloran had not yet locked him behind doors, when the leash had not yet tightened fully. Before it was bad. Before he was confined.

Andrew Black had been someone important then, important enough to draw respect, but Lucas wasn’t important enough to ever truly meet.

Now, in this life, the name was tethered to Mia’s brother. Andrew Malek, becoming Andrew Black.

Lucas sat on the cool edge of the tub, rolling his sleeves up, staring at the water as it rose. He hadn’t changed much. He hadn’t rewritten everything. Some events were left to happen because they had to. All he had done was tilt the board and make sure some of the pieces landed softer, while others had a chance to stand taller than before.

He didn’t remember Chris in his old life. No whispers of a dominant omega, no brother stepping forward. But if his instincts were right, if the puzzle in his mind was fitting together as it should, then it was possible, more than possible, that Andrew had discovered the truth first back then. That Andrew had been the one to shield Chris under the Black name, protecting him long before Trevor or Dax could claim him.

Lucas let out a slow breath, leaning forward to trail his fingers across the steaming water. The surface trembled, rippling outward, and he caught his own reflection in the distortion, ash-blonde hair falling into his eyes, face young, breakable, almost innocent. The same face Christian had once dismissed as harmless.

He smiled faintly, without humor.

Nothing harmless about survival.

The sound of the bedroom door opening drew his head up. Trevor’s steps were unhurried but carried the weight of certainty, the kind of presence that filled a room without trying. He stopped in the doorway of the bathroom, jacket already discarded, tie loosened, his violet eyes narrowing slightly as they landed on Lucas sitting at the edge of the tub.

"You’re supposed to be in bed," Trevor said, voice even but threaded with that possessive undertone he rarely bothered to hide when they were alone.

Lucas dipped his fingers into the water again, watching the ripples instead of him. "And you’re supposed to be buried in work until midnight."

Trevor leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, arms folding across his chest. "I finished early." His gaze swept over Lucas, barefoot, shirt hanging loose, sleeves rolled. "You didn’t."

Lucas arched a brow at him, green eyes glinting with dry amusement. "I’m drawing a bath, Trevor, not plotting treason. Unless you think hot water counts as subversive now."

Trevor didn’t smile. He stepped forward, the click of his shoes against tile a quiet punctuation. "I think you were too deep in your head again."

Lucas tilted his head, almost lazily. "And what if I was?"

Trevor crouched down in front of him, one hand bracing against the rim of the tub, the other brushing damp strands of hair back from Lucas’s temple. His voice was low, unshaken. "Then I’ll remind you that you don’t need to carry all of it alone."

For a moment, Lucas said nothing, only watched him, caught in the gravity of Trevor’s presence, solid, immovable, as if the world itself bent to accommodate him. Then, finally, he let out a quiet laugh, softer than before. "Careful. You almost sound like you’re reassuring me."

Trevor’s mouth curved faintly, the ghost of a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Not reassuring. Warning. If you drown yourself in thoughts, I’ll drag you back out myself."

Lucas leaned forward, their foreheads brushing briefly, the warmth of Trevor’s skin grounding against the chill of steam rising from the bath. "Always so dramatic."

"And yet you never listen until I am," Trevor murmured back.

For a beat, the only sound was the steady rush of water filling the tub. Lucas closed his eyes, letting the quiet press against him, Trevor’s presence anchoring him more than the walls of the manor ever could.

Lucas closed his eyes, the steam brushing against his skin. "You make it sound like I’m fragile," he said at last, his tone dry but softer than before.

Trevor’s hand lifted, fingertips grazing along Lucas’s jaw. "Hmm... fragile? Yes. But only with me."

That earned a quiet laugh from Lucas, almost reluctant. "That sounds less like an observation and more like wishful thinking."

Trevor’s mouth curved faintly. "Call it whatever helps you sleep, but I’m right."

Lucas cracked an eye open, studying him. "Confident, aren’t you?"

"Always," Trevor replied smoothly. "Especially when it comes to you."

Lucas leaned his forehead against Trevor’s for a moment, the warmth grounding him. "I love you."

Trevor’s hand stilled against his jaw, violet eyes locking onto green, the steam curling between them. For a moment, his expression softened in a way he rarely allowed anyone else to see.

"I love you too," he said, quiet but steady, the words carrying the kind of certainty that didn’t need to be repeated to be true. His thumb brushed over Lucas’s cheek, lingering there as though to anchor the moment in place.

Lucas’s breath caught, his lips curving faintly. "You make it sound so simple."

Trevor’s smile deepened, faint but real. "Because it is. With you, it always is."

Lucas closed his eyes briefly, letting the warmth of his touch settle deeper than the steam ever could. "You’ll ruin me, saying things like that."

Trevor leaned closer until their foreheads pressed together again, his voice low, almost a vow. "No, Lucas. You are mine to love forever."

Lucas laughed softly, the tension of the evening finally bleeding out of his shoulders. "You’re still dramatic."

"Only because you make me that way," Trevor murmured, pressing the lightest kiss against his temple.

Lucas shifted then, sliding off the cool edge of the tub and into Trevor’s arms without hesitation. The steam curled around them, wrapping the moment in warmth. For once, there was no court, no politics, no weight of decisions, just the steady beat of Trevor’s heart against his ear, and the certainty of his words still lingering in the air.

"Mine to love," Lucas whispered back, the words quiet but unshakable.

Trevor held him tighter, as if sealing a vow neither of them intended to break.