The Reborn Sovereign of Ruin, Bound by His Star

"What the fuck is this?!"

Arik’s arm around his waist tightened immediately, not to restrain him this time, but because Liam had jerked upright with enough violence to nearly launch himself out of the bed.

"What happened?" Arik asked, the amusement gone at once.

Liam did not answer.

He was too busy reading.

Then rereading.

Then deciding that yes, unfortunately, the words on the screen had not rearranged themselves into something less murderous.

Across the top of the official Wrohan royal bulletin, stamped with George’s crest and framed in nauseating ceremonial gold, stood the announcement.

By order of His Majesty King George of Wrohan, with the blessing of the throne and in recognition of the strengthening bond between Wrohan and Agaron, Lord Liam Sienna Canmore is formally announced as the betrothed of His Imperial Highness Crown Prince Arik Oberon Lyon of Agaron.

Liam went very still.

So still that Arik became visibly concerned.

"That," Liam said softly, "is a death certificate."

Arik glanced at the screen.

Then paused.

For a fraction of a second, the Crown Prince of Agaron looked almost impressed.

"George moved faster than expected."

Liam turned his head very slowly.

Arik, intelligent man that he was, did not smile.

"You knew about this?"

"I knew George might attempt to use the engagement publicly once the palace realized you were with me."

"Might attempt?" Liam repeated.

"That is the diplomatic phrasing."

"I am going to kill the king."

"Reasonable."

Liam blinked.

That was not the answer he had expected.

Arik adjusted his hold around Liam’s waist and looked at the announcement again, his expression sharpening into something colder beneath the morning softness.

"He issued it without your consent."

"Yes."

"And without mine."

Liam paused.

He then narrowed his eyes. "You look less angry about your part."

"I am furious about my part," Arik said calmly. "But I am enjoying yours."

Liam grabbed a pillow and hit him with it.

Arik accepted the assault with the grave dignity of a man who knew he deserved at least part of it.

"You are evil," Liam snapped. "What about Agaron’s reaction? What about your parents?"

Every question was accentuated by another pillow strike.

Arik was outright laughing now while trying to shield himself with his arms.

"Liam—"

"You let me sleep through a diplomatic disaster!"

Another hit.

"You let George announce my engagement like some deranged wedding aunt!"

A second pillow joined the assault.

Arik caught that one midair, still laughing.

"You are taking this surprisingly personally for someone who claimed our arrangement was temporary."

"That was before your king-sized political clown publicly attached my name to yours!"

"My king-sized political clown?"

"Yes!"

Arik laughed harder at that, shoulders shaking beneath the blankets.

Liam stared at him in outrage.

"You are enjoying this far too much."

"You’re throwing bedding at a future international incident," Arik managed through bursts of laughter. "Forgive me for finding it memorable."

Liam lunged for another pillow.

Arik caught his wrist before he could weaponize it.

Not hard. Still laughing.

"As for Agaron," Arik said, tugging Liam forward until the omega nearly collapsed across his chest again, "my parents already wanted you."

Liam froze.

"That is not helping."

"Gabriel told me to charm you."

"That is deeply sinister information to reveal this casually."

"Damian threatened George three separate times before we even arrived in Wrohan."

Liam stared at him.

"...What?"

"He dislikes him."

"That is not normal diplomatic behavior!"

"It is for my father."

Liam looked genuinely distressed now. His long brown hair was a tangled mess, and his red eyes were still hazy from sleep but widened with rage.

"You come from a family of politically unstable people."

"We prefer decisive." The prince shrugged like his parents were the most normal thing on earth.

"You threatened annexation over dinner."

"And?"

"You’re saying that like it supports your argument!"

Arik grinned.

Liam tried to look furious, but sleep-warm and tangled in blankets with messy hair, he mostly resembled an offended cat discovering the household had betrayed him personally.

"What about the public?" Liam demanded. "The nobles? The media?"

"They already suspected. after you left with me in the motorcade."

"They suspected. George confirmed it with a royal seal."

"Yes."

"That is catastrophic."

"For Wrohan."

Liam opened his mouth.

Closed it.

He then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You sound entirely too calm."

Arik’s expression softened into something quieter beneath the amusement.

"Liam," he said, "if my parents objected to you, you would never have made it this far."

The words landed harder than expected.

Liam’s grip loosened on the pillow.

Arik continued watching him steadily. "Gabriel likes you. Damian respects you. My grandmother already considers you interesting, which is arguably more dangerous than the other two combined."

"That is not reassuring."

"It wasn’t meant to be."

Liam dropped backward onto the mattress with a sound of exhausted despair.

"This is a nightmare."

Arik leaned over him slightly, still smiling. "You’re wearing my clothes, in my bed, after asking me to stay the night. Objectively speaking, George may have simply misread the atmosphere."

Liam threw the pillow directly into his face.

This time Arik failed to dodge in time and made a startled sound as fabric smothered him briefly.

Liam pointed at him triumphantly. "Justice."

Arik pulled the pillow away slowly.

His hair was even messier now.

Unfortunately, that made him hotter.

Liam hated biology.

"You realize," Arik said calmly, "that assaulting the Crown Prince of Agaron is technically an international offense."

"You’ll survive."

"Probably."

"You’re still laughing."

"You called George a king-sized political clown."

"He deserves worse."

"I agree."

Liam squinted at him. "You agree too fast with my violent impulses."

"I support your passions." That devil of a man looked better and better with each second he lost his normally cold demeanor.

"That sounds fake."

"It’s romance."

"That is not romance."

Arik’s grin turned wicked. "Would you prefer flowers?"

"No."

"Threats?"

"Closer."

Arik laughed again, warm and bright in the morning light, and Liam realized with sudden horror that he liked that sound far too much too.