3. Lucid Dream

3. Lucid Dream

A cold breeze grazed him. Eyes still closed, he reached across the bed, searching for warmth. The surface was flat. The sheets hadn't even been disturbed.

The strangeness made him open his eyes. The feel of silk — soft and cold — deepened the loneliness. And with it came the question of where he had gone. Surely not……

Before the thought could darken further, his night-adjusted vision supplied the answer. On the armrest of the large single-seat sofa a short distance from the foot of the bed, a shirt glowed faintly blue. Perhaps he couldn't sleep.

The angle hid Kloff from view. The hands resting neatly on the armrest hadn't moved. He wanted to go closer but hesitated. He didn't want to disturb a private reverie. Then he reconsidered. If the man had fallen asleep sitting up, it would be better to guide him back to bed. Carefully, he approached the sofa.

Loosely parted curtains exposed half the wide balcony window. Bright moonlight poured through. Sitting in the pale, wan glow, Kloff was — astonishingly — awake. He was simply staring out the window, expression vacant. Beyond the glass, the rose garden was visible.

Ah — this room was originally Mother's. That's why it has the best view of the garden.

Following Kloff's gaze, Aeroc looked out in silence. The cottage, frozen as if under a spell, and the thorn-bristling garden that surrounded it. Inside that space, Aeroc had endured a harrowing life. A place so terrifying and painful that he would sooner end his own life than reenter it. What eyes was Kloff watching it with?

With pleasure, seeing a sinner pay his dues? With mockery and contempt? He didn't want to know, yet his feet moved of their own accord. Slowly, like a shadow, he rounded the front of the sofa. And faced the man, rigid as stone.

Like a bronze statue from which life was draining, he had gone rigid. His sealed lips spoke of resolve; his half-open eyes leaked solitude. Moonlight shattered against the hard shoulders, making him colder still. Aeroc reached out a hand. The gaze that had been fixed on some unreachable distance shifted, slowly, toward the sorrowful figure. The steel-colored eyes held no sign of life. His heart lurched.

"Kloff."

He called the name without meaning to. He reached out and stroked the back of the large hand, veins standing in relief. The hand that looked so cold was warm as ever. The plaster-rigid fingers flinched. After a moment's hesitation, the long fingers curled around Aeroc's cold fingertips.

"……Ae……roc?"

A voice savagely rough. The dense emotion packed into it delivered a familiar terror. His widening eyes filled with shock. The clenched jaw loosened by degrees, and again that dreadful voice came.

"Ae……roc? Is it really you?"

Something was wrong. Instinct pulled him back. The instant he tried to widen the gap, a powerful grip seized his wrist. The heavy chair scraped and lurched backward. He tried to wrench free. Impossible. The other's strength far exceeded his own.

"You're hurting me."

"Aeroc. Aeroc."

Kloff heard nothing. Instead, he pulled Aeroc into his arms. No — imprisoned was the truer word. The arms locked around him like shackles.

A heavy head dropped against his neck. Scorching breath burned his skin. His spine went rigid. His heels lifted involuntarily. As his balance faltered, the man — planted solid — took Aeroc's full weight. The posture crumbled further; escape was impossible. He held his breath in silence. His shoulder grew damp.

"Ha ha…… I knew it was a dream. A vicious nightmare, that's all it was. As if you — as if you could leave me. That's impossible. You still have debts to pay."

A blade of ice drove into the crown of his skull. He could barely breathe. He'd always known a day like this would come. He simply hadn't expected it to be today.

Was the happy illusion finally over? Was everything returning to its rightful place — Aeroc, too, to his? Back into that cold garden, visible in the distance.

Kloff caressed the rigid body with care. A low laugh slipped out.

"I have no intention of letting you go. And you must not abandon me, either. You're the one who made me into this dreadful monster."

He raised his head. The endlessly gentle gaze was gone. In its place, dark eyes roiling with every conceivable emotion. One arm held the trembling waist firm; the other hand cupped the slender neck. His vocal cords had frozen — he couldn't even whimper. The cruel man's expression was more rapturous than ever.

Dry lips met. Not a deep kiss but a skimming one — breaths exchanged across several points of contact — before Kloff pressed their foreheads together. The hand that had cradled his neck slid down to stroke the terror-shivering cheek. A warm thumb grazed the cheekbone.

"You won. You relentless, wretched creature. You won."

A soft laugh followed. Even as he declared his own defeat, he looked profoundly glad. With unmistakable pleasure he pressed their lips together once more. Deeper than before. The hidden, scorching membrane behind dry lips colliding. He drank Aeroc's breath. A kiss so silent not a sound escaped. The only thing audible was the battered pounding of a heart.

"Don't go anywhere now. You don't need to go to the garden. Stay with me. Right here."

He did not wait for an answer. With an air that would brook no objection or dissent, he gathered Aeroc into both arms. Aeroc's frame was not naturally slight, and the pregnancy had added considerable weight, yet the man showed no strain. The sudden lift brought dizziness — though his head had already been spinning.

"You're cold."

Saying he ought to be warm, Kloff carried Aeroc to the bed. With tender precision he drew back the sheet and laid him down as though handling a cracked glass figurine. Then he sat at the bedside. The deranged tyrant, in a manner of supreme gentleness, touched Aeroc's cold hands.

"This cold, and it isn't even winter. Perhaps you should wear gloves."

He made to stand — murmuring about lighting the hearth, too. But Aeroc couldn't let him go. If he left and woke someone else. If the faltering enchantment shattered entirely and order was lost. The thought of what might follow was too terrifying to imagine.

With numb fingers he seized the man's sleeve. Kloff turned back. Swallowing the surge that rose inside, he barely managed to speak.

"Don't…… go."

"But."

"Stay with me."

After a moment's silence, Kloff smiled again.

"Cunning as ever. The instant you gain the upper hand, it's demands and indulgence. Your nature doesn't change."

However he interpreted the intention, Kloff returned to the bed. He regarded Aeroc briefly, then climbed in beside him. He straightened the pillows, smoothed the sheets, drew the dazed Aeroc close, and held him. Through the gap of the loosened shirt, a firm, muscle-wrapped neck was exposed. Aeroc pressed his face into it. He felt the two hands settling across his back.

"It's late. For your health, it's best you sleep early."

He reached out and clutched Kloff's collar. One of the hands on his back came forward and covered the protruding knuckles. The fingers teased gently, and hot tears spilled. Regret? Wistfulness? Grief, or perhaps relief? He didn't know what the tears were for.

"So even a devil has tears."

He closed his eyes. Tears rolled down the bridge of his nose. The back of a hand — the kind that used to leave blue bruises — approached and brushed his cheek. The mere act of wiping tears made Aeroc flinch. The arms around him tightened. With a low sigh, he kissed the cold-sweat-beaded forehead.

"And I love that devil."

What?

"A fitting end for someone who has become a monster beyond the reach of the word worst, wouldn't you say?"

What did you just say?

He stared up in disbelief. He'd known about the imprinting. But imprinting was not love. When he'd heard that the man who had imprinted without love had suffered and died in agony, he'd been furious. Why not end it before the imprint took hold? Why do something so foolish?

When they'd reunited, Aeroc had attributed every provocation, every act of courtship, to the imprint — not to choice. One half of his heart crumbled while the other leapt with joy, because like a satellite caught by a star, Kloff would orbit Aeroc forever. But now — he'd loved before the imprinting? This person? Me?

The silent question found its answer.

"That you sinned was no reason for me to do what I did. A trial would have sufficed. What I did instead — in the end, it was because I couldn't forgive my own heart for betraying itself. You may condemn me. Do whatever you like until the anger is spent. But I have no intention of asking forgiveness. And I have no intention of forgiving you, either."

"……I don't…… ask for it."

A hollow laugh. Deep breaths repeated. Aeroc wept hot tears. Kloff no longer wiped them away. Instead he kissed, endlessly — the forehead, the hair.

"You should sleep now. Starting tomorrow, things will get hectic. Rapiel, Jester, Seth, Blaine, and Yohn and Ivide too. I'll have to introduce you to all of them. It will be exhausting, so you'd better rest."

He hadn't known. The names of those jewel-like children, heard for the first time. Introduce?

The man who called himself a monster smoothed the hair clinging to Aeroc's forehead with a tender hand.

"Enough now."

A slightly weary voice. Had he been thinking of stopping even before? If Aeroc hadn't fled in despair that day, could the ending have been even a little different? Entertaining an impossible fantasy, Aeroc held his breath.

"A monster's side suits a devil best. I knew it would come to this in the end. You won, Aeroc. My defeat."

A declaration of defeat, yet he seemed somehow content. Perhaps happy. The dreadful ending was only a dream, so thank goodness — murmuring this, Kloff drew Aeroc closer. I won't let go now. Over and over, until Aeroc fell asleep, he repeated it.

What a pitiable man. To imprint on someone like me, and to fall in love on top of it.

The imprinting found in romantic novels — it was a vestige of instinct, now nearly extinct. A hormonal disruption that omegas had evolved to guarantee an alpha's care during pregnancy. In the centuries since raising a child alone had become, if difficult, no longer impossible, imprinting had gradually vanished, replaced by love as the bond between alpha and omega. Instinct had blurred between reason and emotion.

Typically, alphas who had spent long years with a single omega found themselves imprinted without realizing it. Most imprinted alphas were therefore elderly couples who had shared a lifetime. Imprinting at a relatively young age was rare, but not unheard of — among those of pure lineage susceptible to genetic sensitivity, records existed of individuals imprinting in an instant. But Kloff, at least, had not imprinted at first sight. It had surely happened because he had continued the relationship without healing his severe psychological trauma.

Like someone under powerful hypnosis, the imprinted person became obsessed with their target. If the desire went unfulfilled, violent tendencies emerged; sometimes self-harm followed without hesitation. That was why he had committed sins he needn't have committed. As he himself declared, he had become a monster. Aeroc's heart ached.

Amid the sorrow and the pity, elation grew, slowly but surely. Selfish and cowardly. How many innocents had been sacrificed? And still, there was a part of him that rejoiced at finally winning this man's love.

A devil who did not know how to weep — who had no right to weep.

That was the name for Aeroc Teiwind.

*

Sharp sunlight struck his face.

He rubbed his stinging eyes and raised his limp body. His limbs had no strength. He looked around — not a room. In the middle of a garden drenched in dizzying rose fragrance, he was alone on the marble gazebo bench. Just a moment ago he had been beside him — the man who knew everything.

His legs shook. His mind reeled. But he didn't want to be alone in the rose garden. This place held far too many memories. He had to leave before they buried him.

Crunch, crunch — stones underfoot. The rose fragrance seemed to keep catching at his ankles. He dragged his heavy steps. The manor ahead blazed with light.

He entered the silent foyer. He lingered in the darkness until his contracted pupils widened again. When his vision returned, the familiar scene came into focus. The grand lobby, the staircase ascending to the second floor. Delicately carved ornaments and frames steeped in the depth of ages.

Despite the red carpet, his footsteps echoed — that was how quiet the manor was. The passing scenery undulated sluggishly. His mind accepted that this was a place from memory. But nothing felt familiar. A strange sense of dislocation. As though a veil of dream had been drawn across everything.

What kind of person was he, here?

One who knew everything?

Or one who didn't?

In the vast manor where only the sound of moving air could be heard, nothing stirred but himself. Or perhaps he wasn't here at all. That would be the saddest thing imaginable.

He found himself standing before the study. He could have gone to Mother's room, or his own. What had drawn him here was a sliver of hope. If he opened the door and stepped inside, perhaps — as in a dream he'd once had — he'd see the broad back of a solidly built man, absorbed in contemplation before a painting. Let it not be a vain hope.

The door slid open without a sound, revealing the interior. Directly ahead, the Four Seasons series caught his eye at once. He wasn't there after all.

The study had a strange lived-in quality. Everything that had always been there sat in its usual place, yet the room pulsed with a peculiar vitality, as though it might spring to life at any moment. Odd. He looked around. Books were packed firmly in their shelves, and on the desk, the quill's feather — as if glued fast — drew his gaze without stirring. Nothing had changed, so why?

He crossed the carpet that swallowed footsteps. Toward the large sofa that faced away from the door, on the far side of the desk. On the table beyond the sofa's back, the corner of the tea set he always used was just visible. The moment he rounded the edge of the sofa to confirm it, he saw something unbelievable.

He was there.

In shirt and waistcoat, using a small cushion as a pillow, he was asleep. Being so tall, the sofa — large enough for three — looked cramped. Moreover, a comically adorable cloud-patterned blanket had been rolled and bunched into one corner, barely covering the large torso. Even so, he was deeply asleep, perfectly still, breathing evenly. Hair fell across the straight forehead. Sleeves pushed up haphazardly, arms folded, the rather serious sleeping face was slightly gaunt. Documents were scattered on the floor — he'd been working and fallen asleep.

I should go back before he wakes. Otherwise there might be another terrible punishment. But his feet wouldn't move.

When had he last watched this man sleep? All he could vividly recall was the face that woke to pour forth fury like a merciless judge. But this was not who the man truly was.

The tender person who had kissed a beloved's fingers, one by one.

The person who had whispered love with a gentle smile.

The person who would watch over you, more devoted than anyone.

Coveting the love meant for someone else, Aeroc had broken him, then seized him at last. The result of an obsession that two lifetimes hadn't been enough to release.

He reached out and touched the man's cheek. Naturally, the head tilted into his palm. Something hot spread inside his chest.

"……mmm…… Le……"

The mumbled syllable was unmistakably the first letter of another person's name. It hurt. Even in the unconscious, still yearning for him — how painful it must be, chained to the side of someone unwanted. I should let you go. But if I let you go, I'll burn to death. Not twice…… I can't bear it twice — not hearing you say you love me, even as a lie.

Call me selfish. As long I have you. I won't waste the second chance.

He knelt. And stole a kiss from the lips of the beautiful sleeping man. So that the curse would never break. So that they might live together, like this, forever.

Naturally his hand came to rest on the man's chest. The moment his lips met warm ones, something stirred beneath his hand. Startled, he looked down. Something small was squirming, and from under the blanket a tiny hand emerged.

"Ahng."

The flailing hand pushed the blanket aside. Unhappy little puffs of breath followed one after another. He drew the blanket back.

Ah.

Contrary to expectation, a baby with dark chestnut hair lay belly-down on the large body. One hand was in his mouth, sucking. Before long the baby lifted his head and looked this way. A few blinks — then a beaming smile.

"Ma."

A great spear drove straight through his solar plexus.

Two small hands reached earnestly toward him. Straining, the baby tried to push up, then stretched both arms out again. When they didn't reach, the baby whined and kicked short legs vigorously. Trying to crawl.

The kicking woke the sleeping man, who scrunched his brow. Without opening his eyes, he raised an arm and expertly scooped up the squirming baby, patting its back. He mumbled something, then the strength drained from his hand almost immediately. The baby grinned again and, at last within reach of Aeroc, crawled determinedly forward.

Arms spread wide with pride, the baby demanded, with total entitlement, to be held. Aeroc lifted the small body — sweet with the scent of milk — and the spear lodged in his chest dissolved.

"Ma."

A tiny hand touched his cheek. He caught it and kissed the palm. The baby giggled, ticklish.

My darling baby, Lenoc.

In that instant, the strange sense of dislocation that had governed his senses since waking in the garden collapsed entirely. Not Rapiel. The place where Lenoc existed was not hell but heaven. He breathed in the child's scent and felt reality return.

"Hello, my baby."

His voice trembled for some reason. Yesterday, and the day before, and this morning — right up until he'd gone for a solo stroll in the garden just now — the baby had never left his arms. How could he have forgotten?

"Did you sleep well?"

"Ooh-ooh."

He kissed the small forehead and they laughed together. The baby settled contentedly against him. It was almost time for a feeding. The bottle would need warming. The afternoon rest period would be over soon, so the servants would be moving about again.

The man who had handled critical diplomatic economic negotiations and gone days barely coming home had passed out cold. Despite that, he'd insisted — wrongly — that leaving all the childcare to Aeroc wasn't right, and had volunteered to put Lenoc down for his nap, only to fall asleep first himself. Thanks to that, Aeroc had gone for an unnecessary garden stroll and ended up having a strange dream.

"Baah."

Even as his clone reached out a tiny hand urging him to wake, the man didn't budge. No one on earth could move this enormous body, so leaving him here was the only option. Aeroc decided to at least cover him properly. Holding Lenoc with one arm, he tugged the blanket over with the other.

"Daddy's tired. Let's go have food, just the two of us."

Lenoc, who couldn't yet understand speech, kept flailing his hands. As Aeroc stood to leave, his hand was suddenly caught.

"Don't…… go."

A thoroughly cracked voice.

"You're awake?"

"Mm."

"Sorry. Were we too loud?"

"No. It was your scent."

Groaning, the man could barely open his eyes as he hauled himself upright. Aeroc had already known his sense of smell was extraordinary, but waking to a scent rather than a sound? Truly a beast. The dog-nosed man snaked an arm around the waist of the person standing before him.

"You're heavy. I'm holding Lenoc — if you lean like that it's dangerous."

"It's fine, it's fine."

"It is not fine."

Ignoring the protest entirely, he squinted at the giggling Lenoc and waved.

"Did my little boy sleep well? Are you excited?"

Without an ounce of shame, the nasal baby-voice flowed naturally. Come to think of it, he'd once sat Lenoc down and performed an alarming routine of strange nursery songs with choreography. The more you knew, the more surprises this man held.

"Lenoc needs to eat. Let go."

"I want food too."

"Ugh."

Goosebumps erupted and he nearly smacked him. But instead Kloff caught his hand and kissed it. Not the lips — the center of the palm. And then each finger, one by one. More than a year of sharing a bed, and still, whenever he did this, Aeroc's face turned red as a tomato.

"Wh-what are you doing in broad daylight?"

He scolded, pulling his hand away in embarrassment. Kloff grumbled: "My cold-hearted lover won't even give me a good-morning kiss, so I held his hand and begged for a little love. Is that so wrong?"

"Be quiet. 'Good morning'? It's already afternoon. If you're getting up, hurry up."

"Heartless. I'm hurt."

"Since when do you play games like this?"

Face burning, Aeroc turned his head sharply and tried to leave the study first. He sensed Kloff approaching from behind. Just before he reached the door, Kloff swept both Aeroc and Lenoc into one embrace from behind. He planted a kiss on Lenoc's cheek, then buried his lips against Aeroc's nape.

"What are you—!"

"Mmh. Nothing beats being woken by your scent."

"You pervert."

Still ignoring every word, Kloff smiled at the Aeroc who had spun around. A chill ran down his spine.

"I've finished all the work. Tonight, I'm free."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

"Everything."

"Nothing."

"Everything."

He was about to insist nothing again, but stopped. There was no need to be drawn into a childish argument. Just ignore him. He opened the door and left the study. Feed Lenoc, then discuss the garden maintenance with Hugo this afternoon, then read the book he'd been putting off. Since the man claimed to be free, Lenoc could be entirely his responsibility.

The plan proceeded as expected through the Hugo meeting. But after Lenoc had eaten, exuberantly expelled his biological outputs, crawled around the playroom with Daddy, and then — as if broken — suddenly collapsed into sleep, Aeroc's plan to read was canceled.

*

"Now, then. It's time for just the two of us."

At the sight of Kloff approaching while loosening his tie, Aeroc took an involuntary step back.

"A-already? Everyone's still awake."

"I've waited weeks. Work and Lenoc. I've been good — give me my reward."

"This isn't giving — it's robbery."

"Whatever it is. I'm taking what I want."

"Greedy wretch! You de—"

The infuriatingly handsome grinning face made him forget the rest of the insult. Through his half-parted lips, a smooth, hot tongue slipped in.

Searing air filled the room. The violent movements made it impossible to stifle his voice; he covered his mouth with the back of his hand. Kloff seized that hand, sucked at the inside of the wrist until it reddened, then claimed the panting lips. Before reaching a man's physiological peak, the white-hot climax washed through him again and again. His mind dissolved.

"Aeroc."

"Ahh."

He followed the voice that called his name without cease. Whatever this man offered — pleasure or pain — none of it mattered. Being together was all that counted. Through waves of sensation so intense he nearly lost consciousness, the passionate alpha finally reached his climax. And then, as if staking a claim of possession, the organ buried inside began to swell. A dull, lingering ache followed.

"Ngh."

"Sorry. I should have pulled out sooner."

"You're not sorry at all, so don't bother lying."

"Caught me?"

Grinning shamelessly, he whispered love. Aeroc no longer had the energy even to feign anger. He simply lay in the comfortable embrace, steadying his breath. The reassuring weight of the man was good. Though his hip joints felt as if they were being torn apart.

There was no greater happiness than falling asleep in a beloved's arms. As he whispered love without end, Aeroc thought he wouldn't mind if the world ended like this. Rough, yes — and self-centered and shameless — but more lovable than anyone. That was enough.

*

Two months later.

"I'm not a broodmare!"

Face yellowed with morning sickness, he jabbed a finger at the culprit.

"You said you wanted six."

The shameless man brought him water. Aeroc ground his teeth. But the man took no notice, simply pulling Aeroc into a firm embrace and patting him at will. Damn hormones. Even in the midst of fury, the nausea began to subside.

"I didn't say I wanted them back to back."

He grabbed the man's collar and shook him. Kloff laughed — ha ha — and puckered his lips. Reflexively, Aeroc pressed his own against them, then — wait — jerked his head away.

"Better to get it done while we're still young."

"You shameless creature. A stallion on aphrodisiacs would be more chaste than your lower half!"

"Broodmare, now stallion. Last time it was a puppy — shall we call this one a foal?"

An expert deflector.

"You're not even listening, are you?"

"A girl omega or alpha would be nice, since we've already got a boy."

He stroked Aeroc's hair gently and said, "I hope she's blond, like you." The soft touch made Aeroc nod without thinking.

"……A girl…… Wait — that's not the point!"

"I love you."

Lips touched the crown of his head. The press and release left an imprint on his heart.

"Shut up."

Forced anger, but—

"I love you."

—impossible to sustain.

"I love you."

To the confession repeated, over and over—

"……I love you too."

—there was nothing to do but answer.