After three separate emotional breakdowns in the shower, one caused by exhaustion, one caused by suppressants, and one caused by Arik smiling at him like that, Liam emerged from the bathroom with what remained of his dignity held together by sheer spite.

Steam curled around him as the door opened.

His brown hair was damp and falling into his eyes, the ends dripping faintly onto the thick collar of the white bathrobe wrapped tightly around his frame. The heat from the shower had finally chased away the worst of the suppressant chill, leaving his skin flushed instead of pale, though exhaustion still lingered heavily beneath his eyes.

Soft hotel slippers dragged quietly against the carpet as he stepped into the suite.

And immediately stopped.

The sitting room was quieter than before.

Arik was no longer on the sofa.

Liam’s eyes went to the corner of the room, where he found him sitting behind one of the desks near the windows.

The sight nearly caused a fourth emotional incident.

At some point while Liam had been hiding from his own catastrophic feelings under scalding water, Arik had apparently taken a shower himself. His hair, still faintly damp, had been pushed back carelessly from his face, dark strands falling loose near his temples instead of sitting in their usual immaculate arrangement.

He had changed into loungewear.

A black long-sleeved shirt stretched cleanly over broad shoulders, the collar loose enough to expose the strong line of his throat. The fabric looked soft from wear, the sleeves rolled halfway to his forearms while he worked through several glowing reports projected faintly above the desk surface.

This image felt oddly domestic, like Liam walking out of the bathroom in a robe while Arik worked quietly in the corner was something they had done a hundred times before.

Liam hated how violently that image affected him.

Arik looked up at the sound of movement and immediately stopped reading.

The shift in his expression happened all at once. Sharp focus dissolving into something softer. Warmer. The kind of look that made Liam feel like someone had stuck their hand down into his rib cage and squeezed.

"You survived," Arik said softly.

"I considered drowning myself three times."

"That seems dramatic."

"You are dramatic," Liam informed him immediately. "Your existence is currently causing structural instability in my personality."

Arik’s mouth twitched.

Liam looked away before the stupid warmth in his chest could worsen.

’Right. Clothes.’

That had been the point of leaving the bathroom instead of dissolving permanently into steam and shame.

He could ask Arik.

Or call Enia and have someone send clothing from Ravenwood Manor.

Or die quietly. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

All reasonable options.

"I need—" Liam started.

Then he noticed the folded fabric resting neatly on the corner of the desk beside Arik’s hand.

Liam went silent.

Arik remained entirely calm, which immediately confirmed malicious intent.

Slowly, Liam approached the desk with the caution of a man approaching an explosive device.

Dark charcoal fabric made from soft cotton with silver stitching at the cuffs.

Far too large to belong to anyone except...

"No," Liam said immediately.

Arik blinked once, all false innocence. "No?"

"You are not making me wear your pajamas."

Arik glanced toward the folded clothes as if mildly surprised by the accusation. "That is unfortunate, because these are currently the only clothes available."

"That is a lie."

"A terrible accusation."

"You are the Crown Prince of Agaron. This palace could probably clothe an entire delegation."

"And yet," Arik replied smoothly, turning one of the projected reports off with a lazy motion of his fingers, "these are the clothes that arrived."

Liam stared at him.

Arik stared back with the composure of a man fully aware he was committing crimes against another person’s emotional stability.

The worst part was that Liam could see exactly how this conversation had gone.

Arik had done this intentionally.

Heat crawled up Liam’s neck.

"You are a menace."

"I have received similar feedback before."

"You specifically chose this because you thought it would emotionally destabilize me."

Arik leaned back slightly in his chair, considering him with visible amusement

"Yes."

The honesty nearly killed him.

Liam closed his eyes briefly.

"Oh my god." He pressed two fingers to his forehead like he was about to have a stroke. "Don’t you know how to be subtle?"

Arik laughed, low and warm, the sound too relaxed for the amount of damage he was currently causing. "I do. I simply decided there have been enough misunderstandings between us."

"That is not what subtle means."

"No," Arik agreed easily. "That is why I’m not using it."

Liam opened his eyes and stared at him.

Arik’s smile softened, but the amusement did not leave. "Let me be very clear. I asked for my clothes because I wanted you in them."

Liam froze.

The room seemed to narrow around that sentence.

"And because," Arik continued, quieter now, "you would have my pheromones close without your pride collapsing because of you clinging to me." His golden eyes held Liam’s steadily. "Even if I don’t mind."

Liam’s fingers tightened around the folded cotton.

"You say things," Liam muttered faintly, "that make me understand why entire governments find you threatening."

Arik’s mouth curved slightly. "That is one of the kinder descriptions I’ve received."

"You weaponize emotional honesty."

"I prefer the term efficiency."

"That is because you’re clinically evil."

Arik laughed again, softer this time, and leaned back in the chair with the relaxed ease of someone entirely too comfortable while Liam was internally combusting three feet away.

The warm ether light spilling from the desk projections painted soft gold along the edges of his face and throat. Combined with the damp hair and rolled sleeves, it made him look less like the terrifying Crown Prince of Agaron and more like a man Liam could accidentally build a life around if left unsupervised.

That realization hit with enough force that Liam immediately looked away.

"Fine," he muttered at last, reaching for the clothes before his pride could stage another rebellion. "But promise me something."

Liam’s request for anything real was more important than the reports that were still glowing across the desk, so Arik’s focus sharpened instantly.

He tilted his head slightly and waited.

"What?"

Liam’s fingers tightened around the soft cotton.

The suppressants had stabilized him for now, but he could still feel the instability lurking underneath his skin like a storm temporarily held behind glass. The heat had retreated, not vanished. Every instinct in his body remained painfully aware of Arik’s presence in the room—steady heartbeat, warm pheromones, calm control.

His body wanted proximity, safety, and Arik.

And admitting that out loud felt catastrophically vulnerable.

Liam stared stubbornly at the silver stitching on the pajama cuffs instead of at the alpha himself.

"Sleep in the same bed with me tonight."