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“What’s this?” Titus entered the kitchen, eyes taking in the set table. He’d showered and changed into more comfortable clothing, the black sweatpants hanging low on his hips, the gray t-shirt tight enough it showed off the length of his torso and the outline of his abs.

It was an outfit he knew his boyfriend was fond of, which was exactly why he’d chosen it, and when Aodhan moved toward him and took the towel he was using to dry his hair, he knew he’d made the right decision.

“Sit down,” Aodhan ordered, maneuvering him over to one of the chairs at the table. As soon as he had Titus in it, he started drying his hair for him, movements purposeful.

That was his doctor, single-minded and skilled at just about everything he wanted to be good at. The keyword being wanted . He was also the most stubborn person Titus had ever come across, and that stubbornness had often caused problems that could have easily been avoided.

This was a delicate situation. Choosing a third and closing a pod weren’t light matters.

Upsetting his Second in the process wouldn’t be worth it in the long run either.

Titus didn’t just have to manage Cal right now.

He needed to be sure to give Aodhan proper care and attention.

Had to be sure the doctor never felt like he was falling behind or becoming unfavored.

Had to—

“Cut it out.” Aodhan shoved his head lightly, dropping the towel on the corner of the table before rounding it so Titus could see the scowl on his gorgeous face. “Or at least have the decency of cutting the link before you start thinking about all of my shortcomings.”

A regular Connect bond could be strong, but theirs…They were a perfect match in frequency, a rare thing to find.

And now Titus had found it twice.

“You’re perfect.” He reached out and linked their fingers. “You know that.”

“I don’t need you to stroke my ego,” Aodhan complained, though it was obvious he liked it, despite his objections. “Just eat.”

He scanned the table, noting the two types of dumplings in the center, and the three plates that had been carefully organized, as though the doctor were expecting their company to join them for a lovely evening meal.

As much as Aodhan claimed not to care about the Solaces, it was impossible for him to shake his upbringing.

He refused to wear anything that wasn’t name brand—even when he was out playing with his knives—and his hair was always impeccably styled.

It was the first thing he fixed after sex, as though a single strand out of place would harbor in the end of days or some other kind of travesty.

He liked to eat with all the bells and whistles in place: appropriate cutlery, fancy porcelain dishes, and food plated as though set to be photographed for a magazine. On the outside, he seemed carefree and charismatic, but in reality, he had his quirks same as the rest of them.

Titus wasn’t one to complain. He’d gladly adjust and refine his palette to make the other man happy.

It better fit his personal appearance anyway, since he was the one known for being stony and strict.

At the hospital, he was admired for his rational thinking skills and his ability to separate emotions from nearly every aspect of his life.

Though their relationship was hardly a secret, they also had never waved it around.

Even at Zane’s wedding a few months ago, they’d been careful not to get too close in front of their colleagues.

It’d been hard for him to hold back, to stand idly by while the entire staff and every patient who entered the hospital who had eyes leered at what was his, but it’d been necessary.

Then.

Titus was calm and still, whereas Aodhan was brash and charming. The doctor could talk the pants off anyone he set his mind to—that was the major reason Titus had needed him to meet with Calix first—but it was also a trait that drove him a bit mad at times.

“These are from the shop across the street from the hospital.” He purposefully left the food untouched, settling more comfortably in his chair with his shoulders squared and his feelings on full display. “I believe we agreed you would stop going there.”

“You decided,” Aodhan corrected, moving to drop into the seat across from him at the small round table. “It was just the once. I had a craving, okay?”

“A craving?” He eyed the table more pointedly. “For dumplings?”

It’d taken Titus ages to get the other man to even try one.

Aodhan had been so appalled by the thought of putting what he’d claimed was street food into his mouth.

Rich little bastard hadn’t even understood the concept of street food or what it really was, but it’d been endearing in its own sort of way, watching him pout as Titus had insisted.

While naked.

With Aodhan tied up.

His finger traced the rim of one of the fancy golden-edged platters. “And who, might I enquire, is meant to eat these?”

Aodhan huffed and crossed his arms. “You wanted me to come up with a plan that didn’t involve my cock, remember? Well.” He motioned at the food with his chin. “This is it.”

He chuckled. “You really think you can win the detective over with a plate of dumplings?”

“After you had us starve him for nearly three days?” Aodhan quirked a brow. “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

“Touché.” He tilted his head. “Do you feel bad for him?”

“I feel hungry for him.” As if to prove it, the doctor reached forward and snatched a fried dumpling, popping the whole thing into his mouth. But when Titus merely snickered, he frowned.

“The fact you used your hands and not the chopsticks gave you away, baby. Your mind is clearly elsewhere. I can only assume it’s on Calix, and since your solution was to bring him food…”

“I operate on hearts,” Aodhan said. “That doesn’t mean I have one.”

“You have one. It belongs to me, remember?” Titus stood with a flourish. “But there’s enough to share, at least with our detective.” He sneered down at the dumplings. “No one else, little killer. Never anyone else.”

Aodhan rolled his eyes. “The girl you’re not so subtly alluding to doesn’t even work there anymore, Mercy. She quit ages ago.”

His eyes were already narrowing before the doctor seemed to catch his mistake.

Aodhan swore and dropped his gaze. “One of the nurses told me. That’s all. He recalled I used to order from there a lot and asked if I stopped because the waitress left.”

“Which nurse?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Are you protecting him?”

The doctor got up as well, shoving his hands into the pockets of his form-fitting black slacks. He hadn’t changed out of the clothes he’d gone to work in, and even though Titus had been teasing earlier, a closer look proved he’d been accurate in his assessment.

Aodhan was thinking too much.

That never boded well for others, Titus included.

“You’re trying to distract me,” Aodhan guessed. “Why? What happened after I left?”

“He failed to grasp his situation. Have you?”

“Mercy. Let’s bring him out, feed him, let him see how things can be. You don’t know him like I do. Cal wants this. He wants stability and—”

“You do feel bad for him.” That was an interesting development. A positive one. A part of him had feared Aodhan would grow bored and change his mind, but if he’d developed an attachment to Calix, had formed an emotional bond with him…

Aodhan pursed his lips. “Are you testing him, or me?”

“If I confess it’s both?”

“I’ll be annoyed but not surprised.” He ran a hand through his dark brown hair. “I know you’re plotting, you always are, but you told me I could pick the first position.”

“Which you have. That’s why he’s been dangling from the ceiling.”

“I thought he’d cave by now,” Aodhan confessed.

“What happened to knowing him so well?” He snorted and then took a step toward the door. “All right. We’ll play it your way. You want to try feeding him? Let’s do that.”

“He’s not a pet.”

“No, he’s meant to be our Third, but there’s a long way to go before he’s ready to accept that. I don’t think both of us playing the good cop is going to be very helpful in getting him there, do you?”

“Good cop?” Aodhan was the one to scoff this time. “Mercy, baby, we both know there’s only one person in this house that might fit that bill, and it isn’t even close to being you.”

Correct, because if Aodhan Solace was a devil, Titus Mercer was the God that owned him.

And soon he’d own the monster Calix Valimir, too.

* * *

Despite what Aodhan thought of him—and despite how accurate those thoughts were—Titus had already taken Cal down before leaving for his shower.

He found the unconscious man exactly where he’d left him, curled up on his side on the tiny bed tucked into the corner of the room that used to be used for storage.

It was directly across the hall from the kitchen, where they could easily keep an eye on the door as they went about their morning and evening routines.

They’d cleared it out for this purpose, since it was also the smallest room in the three-story home.

A smaller space would help sell the illusion that Calix had nothing left to lose, that his only hope was in giving himself to them completely.

Titus needed to craft the illusion that they were the only means of escape—though it wasn’t entirely untrue.

“What kind of life have you lived these past eight years?” he murmured, lowering down onto the edge of the bed. His hand stroked lightly through the damp strands of blond hair, running the pale pink ends between his fingers.

Unlike Aodhan, who preferred the deep hue of red, pink had always been Titus’s favorite color. It suited him that both his lovers shared some splash of it on their person, the doctor with his eyes, and the detective with his hair.