Page 30 of Honeythorn
Maybe some distance between them was what he needed.
As seemed to be normal with Lord Raphael’s mercurial nature, the peace did not last long.
“You talked to the accountant,” Raphael bit out almost before he was inside the library.
Milan raised his eyes from the book he had been reading. “Well, I lethimtalk tome, more like. What is the matter?”
“Those issues are none of your business!”
Milan scoffed, closing the book just to hear it bang. “How can you say that? We are married now—we share the estate.”
“No!” Lord Raphael denied, making a cutting motion with his hand.
“This again. You are being ridiculous. Just because I am an Omega—”
“It has nothing to do with that.”
“Then what is it about?”
Lord Raphael growled. Milan was not impressed.
“I’m busy. I’ll see you at dinner,” Milan said, giving him a pointed look. Lord Raphael stood there for a moment before stomping out.
Milan sighed. It was like dealing with a child.
*****
Milan couldn’t avoid feeling a little smug as they both ate dinner in stubborn silence. It felt good to make clear to his ridiculous husband what was appropriate and what wasn’t. Milan refused to cave to Lord Raphael’s wild mood swings.
Perhaps it was those self-congratulatory thoughts that left him unprepared for Lord Raphael’s next chess move, although Milan knew that even if he had thought the very worst of his husband, he would not have expected this.
Milan had been so absorbed in his thoughts throughout dinner that it was only when he dismissed himself from the table and went to grasp Lord Raphael’s hand that he noticed the dark, leather gloves that stopped him from doing so.
Milan froze, mind blank. The desperate thought that perhaps Lord Raphael was cold and odd enough to wear gloves to dinner passed his mind. As Milan looked up to see Lord Raphael staring back, however, he knew that was not that case. This was a deliberate message.
Despite Milan’s wilfulness, he was dependent on Lord Raphael in a way that was not reciprocated. The bond between them—which Milan barely noticed most days, it was so weak—could be a great joy, but it could also be a great danger. If left to decay without touch, it was Milan who would suffer. Not Raphael.
I own you. You will do as I say.
A chill went through Milan. Helplessness, fear—he was at the mercy of his husband. This, he would not be able to fight his way through.
Clinging to anger, Milan tried to touch Lord Raphael’s face, but his wrist was caught in a tight grip. Lord Raphael could, and would, overpower him.
Milan wrenched free before practically stumbling into the hallway.
He hid in his room, not even letting Melissa attend to him. This was the first fight in his life that he saw lost before it had begun.
He sat on the floor by his bed. What would Lord Raphael make him do? What would he deny him? Would he control his whole life, keeping him weak and malleable through lack of touch?
Milan buried his face in his hands.
What was he to do?
**********
Once, when Milan was a child, he was witness to the consequences of a neglected bond. It had taken a long time to take full effect, but the result was an Omega that was no more than a shadow. Thin, small, curled into herself as if trying to protect something within her. It was like something had eaten her away until she was nothing.Nothing.
Milan, a boisterous, active child, had been struck still and terrified at the sight. Even then he had known the horror of being diminished. Of being made to die from the inside out.
