CHAPTER 382: CHAPTER 382: TOMORROW

He caught Lucas’s wrist before he could pull away. "I didn’t want to scare you," he said, his tone softening. "You’ve fought too hard for peace to have me show up talking about past lives and Benedict’s madness. But I can’t ignore it anymore, not when the same details keep surfacing. And one memory is gnawing at me... our child." Trevor finished with a slow kiss on Lucas’s knuckles.

Lucas’s breath hitched at the last word. For a moment, the anger drained out of him, replaced by something quieter, something that trembled at the edges. "You think what happened to us then... happened to him too?"

Trevor nodded. "The journal might explain it. Or it might only make things worse. But either way, I need to understand it before it finds a way to repeat itself." He saw the protest forming on Lucas’s soft lips and the first thought Trevor had was that he could just kiss it away. "Lucas, I’m your alpha; if I can’t shield you, who can?"

"You are awfully possessive." Lucas said, pulling his wrist from Trevor’s hand.

"I trust you and myself, but the world has already proved that it would hurt you just because there are greedy people and I won’t lose you or our child to them."

Lucas’s eyes softened, though the flicker of defiance remained. "You can’t protect me from everything, Trevor," he said quietly. "I’m capable of doing it myself..."

"Yes, but you like being shielded by me." Trevor said with an unrepentant grin. "Leave the journal and Benedict to me, and you... make sure to survive the next diplomatic dinner."

Lucas tried to glare, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him first. A smile flickered there, small, reluctant, and full of the affection he kept pretending not to feel. "You’re impossible," he murmured.

Trevor’s grin deepened. "And yet, you keep me."

Lucas exhaled, somewhere between amusement and surrender. He shook his head and straightened his sleeve, pretending to busy himself while the air around them softened again. "You can’t charm your way out of everything, you know."

"I can try," Trevor said easily, leaning back in his chair, eyes tracing the faint lines of exhaustion on Lucas’s face. "Especially when the alternative involves you marching into a room full of politicians who think a smile is a weapon."

"Flattering," Lucas replied dryly, though his tone carried warmth now. "I’ll have you know I survived far worse than a dinner table."

Trevor’s expression gentled. "I know," he said. "But I’ve seen how the world looks at you. Some of them still see the boy with a contract on his body, not the man who rebuilt everything after it. I won’t let anyone use you again, not politically nor personally."

Lucas paused, his hand hovering over the edge of the desk. The words hit deeper than Trevor probably meant them to. "You’re not my shield, Trevor," he said softly. "You’re my partner. There’s a difference."

Trevor’s grin faded into something quieter. "Then let me be both."

Lucas met his eyes, and for a heartbeat, the world narrowed to the space between them. He could see the sincerity there, the kind that didn’t need speeches or vows. Just the steady, quiet devotion of someone who would walk through fire without ever announcing it.

"Fine," Lucas murmured at last. "You win. Again."

Trevor’s hand reached for his, fingers brushing his wrist before sliding down to entwine with his. "Eventually," he said with a hint of a smile. "You always let me."

Lucas arched a brow. "Don’t make that sound like a habit."

"It’s already one," Trevor said, and the unrepentant charm in his voice made Lucas laugh despite himself.

The sound broke the heaviness lingering in the room. It was soft and brief but real, the laugh that made Trevor’s chest tighten with relief.

He tugged gently, pulling Lucas closer until he stood between Trevor’s knees. "Promise me," Trevor murmured, voice low, almost teasing but edged with something serious. "No wandering into secrets. No touching cursed journals. No entertaining Benedict’s ghosts if they come knocking."

Lucas snorted. "You make it sound like I invite them in for tea."

"With you, I wouldn’t rule it out."

Lucas leaned down, hands braced on the desk beside Trevor’s shoulders. "And what about you, Mr. Fitzgeralt? You’re not exactly known for self-control when it comes to dangerous ideas."

Trevor’s grin turned slowly into a toothy one. "That’s why you married me."

"I married you despite that," Lucas corrected.

"Semantics," Trevor murmured, and then, before Lucas could answer, he leaned up and caught his mouth in a kiss that silenced the last of the argument.

The kiss was warm and slow, building itself between them like a blooming flower despite the freezing winter.

When Lucas finally pulled back, his voice was softer than before. "If you’re really going to read that journal... be careful."

Trevor brushed a thumb over his lower lip, lingering on the faint curve of his smile. "I always am."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "That’s a lie."

Trevor laughed quietly. "Then I’ll try harder this time."

"Good." Lucas stepped back, straightening his blazer. "Now, stop looking like you’re about to run into a fire. Windstone will panic if you start brooding again."

Trevor tilted his head, gaze following him as he walked toward the door. "He worries too much."

Lucas turned in the doorway, eyes glinting. "He worries just enough. Someone has to."

Trevor smiled, slow and soft. "That’s what you’re for."

Lucas snorted, though the warmth in his expression betrayed him. "Eventually, you’ll learn to stop testing my patience."

"Eventually," Trevor echoed, his voice a low hum that followed Lucas until the door closed behind him.

The office fell silent again, save for the distant rhythm of rain against the windows. Trevor sat for a long while, the ghost of a smile still playing on his lips, before his gaze drifted toward the drawer beneath the bookshelf.

The imperial crest gleamed faintly in the dim light... waiting.

He exhaled, fingers brushing the edge of the desk, and whispered to no one,

"Tomorrow."