Page 40 of Forbidden
Lucien knew that.
But it changed nothing. He had thought he was ready to see Aksel move on with his life.
He had thought wrong.
***
Sometimes Lucien dreamed of that night.
It was his worst nightmare, his worst memory of the worst day of his life.
He wasn’t sure what it said about him that his worst memory wasn’t the day he had been raped or even the day his father had kicked him out of his home.
No, his worst memory was the night the devotion in Aksel’s eyes had died.
The dream started just as it had happened in real life.
He was lying on top of Aksel, clinging to his firm body desperately, still shaking after his orgasm. His eyes were wet. For once, it wasn’t from the intensity of the pleasure he’d just experienced. The feeling of impending loss was so crushing he already felt it. The emptiness. The heartache. The grief. He wondered if that was how people felt before their death.
He had to do it.
He had to do it for Aksel.
For Aksel.
So Lucien closed his eyes, buried his face in Aksel’s throat and breathed in, for one last time. I love you, he thought, his throat thick with heartache and love. I love you so much, in every way it’s possible to love a person.
But his feelings didn’t matter. His love didn’t matter.
He had to let go.
Be happy, please.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Lucien whispered.
Aksel’s body tensed up under him. “What are you talking about?”
Lucien rolled off of him and sat up, tugging his knees to his chest. “I thought I could do this, but I can’t. This sickens me.” Every word felt like sandpaper on his tongue. “You’re the youngest son of my husband. I look at you and see the little boy I watched grow up. It makes me feel so dirty. This is revolting, Aksel.”
He could smell Aksel’s confusion mixed with growing anger. “You were far from revolted just now,” he said tersely. “You don’t smell revolted.”
Damn his superior senses.
Lucien thought of the most disgusting things he could think of: other alphas touching him, fucking him, treating him like a thing. It made him feel nauseated. Hopefully he smelled like it too.
“It’s just sex,” Lucien said tonelessly. “It feels good physically.” Every lie had to be mixed with the truth to sound convincing. “Thank you for introducing me to pleasure. I had no idea sex could feel good. But it’s just physical, Aksel. I always feel wrong and dirty doing this with you, my stepson. It sickens me.”
Aksel growled, “Look at me. Look me in the eye when you say that.”
Lucien took a deep breath and turned around.
“Tell me you’re not serious,” Aksel said hoarsely, his eyes intent on him. “Please, Luce.”
A part of him longed to take his words back, say he was sorry, say that he hadn’t meant it.
But he couldn’t do it.
This was for Aksel.