The Reborn Sovereign of Ruin, Bound by His Star

Liam woke slowly.

Not because the suppressants were dragging him under anymore. That awful haze had finally retreated during the night, leaving his mind sharp again instead of wrapped in cotton and instinct.

No.

He woke slowly because he was warm.

Suspiciously warm.

For one peaceful second, Liam simply existed there beneath heavy blankets, breathing in soft traces of saint’s breath, clean fabric, and the deep cedar scent that now felt alarmingly tied to safety in his brain.

Then awareness arrived.

Arik’s arm was around his waist. The Crown Prince of Agaron slept like a man securing strategic territory during wartime.

Liam was trapped.

He opened one eye carefully.

Morning light spilled softly through the curtains, pale gold against the modern glass walls of the suite. The ether lamps had dimmed automatically with sunrise, leaving only a faint blue line glowing along the baseboards.

Beside him, Arik was deeply asleep.

Which felt unnatural.

Liam had seen Arik tired. Relaxed. Calm. Half-dressed and emotionally catastrophic beside the projection screens.

But asleep?

Actually asleep?

That felt almost intimate enough to qualify as state secrets.

His dark hair had fallen loose across the pillow, forming a terrible dark halo by his head. One arm was locked firmly around Liam’s waist beneath the blanket while the other rested near Liam’s shoulder, trapping him against the broad warmth of Arik’s chest.

Liam stared.

It was deeply unfair that someone built like an imperial war crime could look this peaceful asleep.

A sleeping beauty.

If sleeping beauties possessed enough raw physical strength to accidentally crack marble railings during diplomatic incidents.

Liam shifted slightly enough to test the situation.

Arik’s arm tightened instantly.

Liam froze.

The alpha did not wake.

Liam tried again, carefully attempting to wiggle backward with the strategic subtlety of someone escaping a large predator without activating survival instincts.

The result was immediate.

Arik made a low sound against his hair and dragged him closer in his sleep.

Liam ended up half sprawled against him.

"This," Liam whispered to the ceiling, "feels illegal."

No response.

Only warmth and the deeply irritating realization that Arik smelled even better asleep.

Liam narrowed his eyes at nothing.

The heat was gone now. Mostly. His thoughts were his own again instead of melting every time Arik breathed near him.

Which meant he could properly assess the situation.

The situation being that somewhere between suppressants, political collapse, emotional compromise, assassination plots, and whatever horrifying thing Arik had apparently dealt with last night, Liam had somehow become comfortable waking up in the arms of a foreign crown prince.

A foreign crown prince who was currently using him as a body pillow with familiarity.

Liam sighed and attempted one final escape.

Arik’s hand slid slowly up his back.

Then the alpha buried his face against Liam’s neck and spoke in a voice roughened by sleep.

"Stop escaping."

Liam went still.

"You’re awake."

"No," Arik murmured immediately.

"That was a sentence."

"A tragic misunderstanding."

Liam turned his head slightly.

Arik still had not opened his eyes.

"You’re conscious enough to commit crimes against my freedom."

"Mm."

"That is not a defense."

Arik only tightened his hold slightly and nuzzled closer against Liam’s throat with the shamelessness of a man who had apparently decided dignity was optional before breakfast.

Warm breath brushed Liam’s skin, and there it was again.

That scent.

Not sharp like expensive cologne or overwhelming like most dominant alphas trying too hard to prove a point. Arik smelled warm. Like dark stone left beneath summer sunlight until heat settled deep into it. Clean mineral warmth softened by an undertone of caramel that lingered low beneath the surface, subtle enough that Liam only fully noticed it when Arik held him this close.

It was unfair.

Everything about this man was unfair.

"Go back to sleep," Arik muttered.

Liam stared at the ceiling in outrage.

"It is morning."

"You need rest."

"I slept."

"You passed out from medical exhaustion."

"That still counts."

Arik hummed against his neck as if he fundamentally disagreed with Liam’s legal interpretation of unconsciousness.

The vibration went straight down Liam’s spine.

This was becoming a workplace hazard.

"Arik."

"Mm?"

"You are being clingy."

The alpha finally opened one eye slightly; it was still golden, sleep-heavy, and entirely unrepentant.

"And?" he asked softly.

Liam hated how difficult it suddenly became to remember his argument.

Especially when Arik closed his eyes again afterward and dragged him impossibly closer, warm stone and caramel surrounding him completely now beneath the blankets.

Outside the suite, Wrohan continued rotting quietly beneath ether-lit towers and political lies.

Inside, Liam was trapped in bed by a sleeping titan who smelled like sunlight on stone and terrible decisions.

"Arik... I need to pee."

Silence.

Then Arik opened both eyes.

Slowly.

Liam watched consciousness return to the crown prince of Agaron in real time, golden eyes sharpening while his expression remained buried somewhere between sleep and deep personal betrayal.

"You what?"

"I need," Liam repeated with the exhausted patience of a man explaining basic biology to royalty, "to pee."

Arik stared at him for several long seconds as if hoping the situation would resolve itself through denial.

It did not.

Liam could practically see the internal conflict happening behind those gold eyes.

Protective instincts.

Warm bed.

Sleep.

Versus the undeniable reality that human bodies were, unfortunately, operational systems.

"This," Arik muttered darkly, "feels strategically unnecessary."

Liam barked out a laugh.

"Oh my god. Are you trying to negotiate with my bladder?"

"I am trying to negotiate with you leaving the bed."

"That is not how anatomy works."

Arik’s arms tightened once more around his waist in one final doomed attempt at resistance before he let out a low sigh against Liam’s throat.

"You’ll return?"

Liam froze, then slowly turned his head.

Arik looked completely serious.

Sleep-rumpled hair. Warm stone and caramel wrapped around them beneath the blankets. One arm still locked possessively around Liam like he fundamentally distrusted the concept of distance.

And he had just asked that with the quiet sincerity of a man requesting reassurance instead of discussing bathroom logistics.

Liam stared at him.

"You are... a danger to my conscience and bladder."

"That is not an answer."

Liam felt heat crawl up his neck for reasons that had nothing to do with the lingering heat cycle.

"Yes," he muttered. "I’ll come back."

Only then did Arik finally loosen his hold.

Liam managed to escape the bed with significant effort and the growing suspicion that Arik viewed him less as a person and more as an emotionally important hostage.

The moment cold air hit him, he regretted leaving immediately.

Behind him, Arik made a low, satisfied sound and stole Liam’s warmth from the blankets like a criminal.

Liam narrowed his eyes while walking toward the bathroom.

"You took my side of the bed."

Arik, already half asleep again, did not even bother opening his eyes, but the little smirk at the corner of his mouth still formed.

"Your side of the bed would be kept warm," he murmured. "I like how that sounds."

Liam stopped halfway to the bathroom door.

Then very slowly turned his head.

Arik remained sprawled across the sheets with all the dangerous confidence of a man too pretty to survive saying things like that out loud.

The sunlight spilling through the curtains painted gold along his dark hair and bare throat, and the blankets had twisted low around his waist after stealing Liam’s side of the bed with criminal intent.

Liam narrowed his eyes.

"You flirt in your sleep."

"No," Arik murmured.

"You sound pleased with yourself."

Arik hummed faintly, still not opening his eyes. "I usually am when discussing you."

Liam stared at him in complete silence.

This man was going to kill him.

Not politically.

Not through heat complications.

Through cumulative emotional damage delivered with the relaxed confidence of a titan wrapped in expensive sheets.

"You know," Liam informed him carefully, "there are easier ways to destabilize a person."

Arik’s smile deepened slightly against the pillow and he cracked one eye open just enough to look at him.

Then the bastard patted the empty space beside him on the mattress.

"Come back quickly," he said softly. "Your side is getting cold already."

Liam walked into the bathroom before his dignity could suffer another catastrophic incident.