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Lucien could have said any of those things—and all of them were true.

But the words got stuck in throat, unable to come out.

Because they were just excuses.

The real reason was, deep down, he simply didn’t believe that he could have a happily ever after. He didn’t believe he was worthy of Aksel.

“Leave it, Bel,” he said tonelessly. “Please. Go to your mate. Stop worrying about me and enjoy your happiness.”

Shaking her head, she gave him back his phone and left.

Lucien stared at its screen without really seeing it.

Chapter Seventeen

“Do you really hate me that much now?”

Aksel went still, his fingers gripping the glass of whiskey too tightly. The hour was late, the guests having returned to their rooms a few hours ago. He’d thought everyone else was long in bed by now.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Aksel said, setting the glass down and turning around.

Lucien was still wearing formal clothes from the dinner party, but he looked much more disheveled now, the top two buttons of his shirt undone and the collar askew, revealing his pale, unmarked throat.

Aksel looked away before looking into Lucien’s eyes.

They were slightly glazed.

“Right,” Lucien said with a snort. “And you making nice with my dearest daddy means nothing, of course.” His voice was uncharacteristically hard.

“You’re tipsy,” Akselsaid, finally registering the bottle in Lucien’s hand.

Lucien shrugged with one shoulder.“Have you fucked him yet?” he said, stepping forward.

Aksel eyed him in silence.

“I haven’t fucked your father,” he said at last, deliberately obtuse. Had he been a better man, a kinder man, a more sober man, he wouldn’t try to get a rise out of Lucien. But the rejected, wounded beast in him didn’t want to be kind or understanding. It wanted to hurt, as much as Lucien had hurt him.

Lucien took another step forward. “Don’t play dumb,” he said, jabbing a finger into Aksel’s chest. “You know who I mean.”

Aksel looked down at the slender finger and then at its owner.

“Stop touching me,” he said flatly, trying to ignore the way his heart was pounding and his blood was rushing south. It was infuriating, the way Lucien could arouse him without even trying while Aksel felt nothing when he was being flirted with and touched by the most beautiful omegas in the country—by his own fiancé.

“I’m not touching you!” Lucien bit out, jabbing his finger into his chest again. “Have you fucked my little brother yet?”

Aksel looked him in the eyes. “What is it to you? It’s none of your business where I stick my cock, is it? You don’t care.”

Lucien lifted his chin. “That’s right. I don’t. You’re my stepson. I don’t care if you stick your cock in every omega in the country! Or every beta and alpha!”

Aksel imagined wrapping his hands around Lucien’s pretty neck and strangling it. “You sure sound rattled for someone who doesn’t care. Do you want me to tell you how good his cunt felt?”

Lucien flushed. “You—you! I hate you!”

Aksel put his hands on Lucien’s shoulders. Felt him shudder.

“You’re trembling,” Aksel said, studying him carefully.

“From revulsion,” Lucien said, lifting his chin.

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