Page 8

The shower was a no-frills open area in the corner of the bathroom, with a steel spray nozzle on a hose attached to a copper pipe jutting out from the concrete wall. Sitting in the middle of the floor was a small wooden stool. It was a grim-looking place, lit by a single lightbulb. It looked like a torture chamber, and Phoenix stood inside, completely naked. The man wore his nudity as comfortable and confidently as he did his uniform.

Phoenix pointed to the stool. "Sit down."

Griffin was behind him, blocking his way out. He began to remove his own uniform.

"What are you going to do to me?" Lars asked, though he was certain he already knew. He felt that twisting, clenching sensation as his mind wanted one thing but his body, another. His eyes were drawn across Phoenix's naked flesh, eating it up once again. He jerked in surprise as Griffin's hand pushed against his lower back in a surprisingly gentle touch to usher him forward.

"Sit, Omega," Phoenix said, his tone bristling on the edge of losing patience.

Lars sat. Griffin was naked now, and the two brothers stood on either side of him. He looked up at them, expecting them to use his mouth for pleasure, but they both were unaroused. Phoenix turned on the water and the room immediately became hazy with hot steam. Lars gasped as he was drenched in the cascade of scalding water. It wasn't painful, though. He'd always enjoyed hot baths—the royal residence had a sprawling complex of geothermal pools that were for his exclusive use. His body adjusted to the temperature, and he embraced its cleansing feeling as it scoured away the remnants of the night's sins.

Griffin knelt on the bare concrete in front of him, the water pouring across his back and over his shoulders. He took Lars's arm in one hand and, to the Omega's surprise, began to gently rub his skin with his other hand, washing him. Phoenix was now behind him, and he lathered a floral scented soap into Lars's hair.

"What are you doing?" Lars asked, stunned at what was happening. This was the kind of treatment he was used to receiving his whole life, but now it felt wrong. After what they'd done, were they actuallytendingto him?

"We're bathing you," Phoenix said as he tipped a bucket of water over Lars's head to wash the soap out from his hair. "Is that not obvious?" He spread more of the soap across Lars's shoulders, passing the bottle to Griffin who did the same to his chest and legs. The night before, their touch had been brutal and dominating. Now, it seemed almost tender. Almost caring.

"Believe it or not, I am capable of bathing myself," Lars said. "I didn't have attendants doingeverythingfor me. Not all the time."

Phoenix chuckled. "Is that what you think this is? Omega, we aren't doing this out of the kindness of our hearts."

"Please. My name is Lars..."

"Omega," Phoenix said. His voice boomed angrily, but his touch remained gentle.

Lars lowered his head. He would continue to fight that battle a different time. "Then why are you doing this?" he asked, half-expecting another reprimand.

"Brother? Why are we doing this?"

"The traditions must be upheld," Griffin said. "No matter what."

Phoenix leaned in, wrapping his soapy hand around the back of Lars's neck. His fingers could almost entirely encircle it. "There you go," he said into Lars's ear. "Happy? Now shut it and let us finish. There's a war we must return to."

Lars's bold streak upheld. "Traditions? I didn't realize Xyletia had any traditions, other than mass murder."

Griffin squeezed his hand tightly around Lars's thigh, where he'd been soaping him. Lars jolted from the sudden pressure. A darkness crossed over Griffin's face. "No. Not Xyletia," he said.

Not Xyletia? What did he mean? Lars's gaze fell on the tattoo on Griffin's bicep. Water streaked down his skin and over the black ink that formed the crescent moon shimmering over two mountains. "Maitran," Lars said, almost whispering it.

The vise grip on his thigh released. Griffin blinked, looking surprised. For a moment, the man crouched before him didn't look like the same fearsome Alpha commander who had executed one of his own men without a second thought. He looked softer, somehow. Phoenix's touch seemed to change in that instant, too. Just a flash. Then it was gone, leaving Lars wondering if he'd imagined it.

Griffin studied him. "Not many know this sigil," he said, and continued washing him. "We had a tradition there. An Alpha is responsible for bathing his Omega in this manner once the first bonding has been completed, using the essence of the qui mountain wildflower. No qui blooms in Ekdol, so we did substitute with something else. But it's important that we upheld this tradition." He picked up the bucket of water and unceremoniously dumped it over Lars's head. He turned off the water. "Stand."

The temperature in the room quickly dropped now that the shower was off. Aside from goosebumps, the two Alphas seemed to be unaffected by the cold. Without any acknowledgement to him, they walked back into the room. Lars followed after them, shivering like a wet dog. They dried off and put on their uniforms while he stood clutching himself, trying to keep warm. Griffin scooped up the bag from the side of the bed and thrust it towards him.

"Get dressed. Or don't. It's your decision. You're leaving this place."

Inside the bag was a small towel and a set of plain grey clothes, just trousers and a shirt. It looked like a prison uniform.

"Leaving? Where?"

"Your quarters."

Lars looked around the room that he had somehow grown attached to, even though he'd been there for such a short time. His eyes lingered on the bed, where the sheets were still tussled up and used. He was drawn to it. It felt secure. Was it because it was where the mating had taken place? Whatever it was, he hated the idea of parting with it. It felt as painful as leaving his own home.

Phoenix must've seen the look on his face. He laughed. "These aremyquarters, Omega. I wouldn't suffer to have you sleeping in them every night."

"And I wouldn't suffer to spend another night with either of you," Lars said, hoping his expression didn't betray him. He dried himself and put on the dreary clothing, which were a size too large and hung loosely on his body.