Kael's POV:
He was there.
Not a ghost. Not a daydream. Not the fading echo of his voice in my sleepless nights. He was there.
Auren.
Standing in the soft spill of golden light from my chamber's entrance, journal clutched tightly in his arms like it held the world. Or maybe, like it held his trembling heart.
My gaze devoured him.
He had lost weight, a subtle hollowness clinging to his cheeks. But his eyes… gods, those eyes. Still defiant. Still burning. Still his. My Auren.
The moment he stepped forward, my lungs gave out.
He raised the journal. No words. Just a look. A fragile offering.
I took it from his hands, fingers brushing his. And that was all it took. My control snapped like overstretched thread.
He opened his mouth to speak, but I was already pulling him into me.
Flesh collided. Breath tangled. That first kiss wasn't gentle. It was weeks of waiting, of worry, of torment, poured into a desperate collision of mouths.
I drank from him like a man starved.
He gasped, and I swallowed it greedily, lifting him up without effort. The journal fell, pages fluttering open across the floor, but I couldn't care less. He clung to me, thighs instinctively wrapping around my waist, and I turned sharply, storming toward my chambers with my most precious treasure in arms.
Once inside, the door slammed behind us.
"Kael-"
His breath hitched as I tossed him onto the silken sheets.
"I told myself," I rasped, already crawling over him, "if I saw you again, I'd go slow."
He blinked up at me, lips swollen, lashes fluttering.
"But I can't," I growled, pulling off his shirt in one smooth motion. My hands, greedy, trembled against his skin. "Not tonight."
He arched under me like a prayer.
Every scar I'd traced in dreams, I now kissed with reverence. Every shiver I coaxed from his body fed the fire in my chest. His soft whimpers? They undid me.
"You came back to me," I whispered, voice breaking against the shell of his ear.
He trembled. "Always."
And that word… that word. It shattered the last of my restraint.
I made love to him like a man possessed.
Not just to claim.
But to worship.
I wanted him ruined for anyone but me. I wanted him marked, inside and out. I wanted him to know the depth of this madness he stirred in me.
He cried out my name when I buried myself inside him, and I buried my face in his neck, shaking with how tightly I held him. Every roll of my hips drew more breathless moans, more trembling pleas.
He was pliant beneath me, and yet, still defiant in his own way. Biting his lip to stifle the sounds, only for me to pull those gasps back out with my tongue, my teeth, my hands.
Our bodies tangled, again and again.
I whispered his name like a mantra, like a curse, like salvation.
And when I felt him shatter beneath me, the tension leaving his body in waves of heat and soft sob, my own release followed, violent and searing, as I gave him everything I had.
I held him as he went limp, boneless and panting, his sweat-slicked skin cooling beneath my touch.
Auren. Mine.
Forever.
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"The Quiet Before the Storm"
Auren was still asleep, chest rising and falling in soft rhythm, face buried in the pillow like a kitten nuzzled into warmth. My arms remained around him even as I looked up when the flap of my chamber's entrance opened.
"Commander," Varon, my second-in-command, bowed low. "You summoned us."
Dren, the third, came behind him, eyes catching briefly on the still form in my bed before wisely averting.
"Speak quietly," I ordered, one hand still stroking slow patterns on Auren's bare back. "He's resting."
They exchanged glances but said nothing.
I nodded to a small table at the corner of the room. "Lay out the maps. We act tonight."
And even as I planned war, I never stopped touching him.
I would end this.
For him.
-------------
"War Rooms and Watching Eyes"
Kael sat back against the plush cushions of his bed, one hand curled possessively around Auren's waist, the other tracing lazy circles over the younger man's bare back. Auren was fast asleep, lips parted slightly, cheeks still flushed from their earlier... activities. The moonlight filtered through the velvet curtains, painting silver on sweat-dampened skin.
Kael's gaze softened. He looked like he was staring at a treasure. Because he was.
"Begin," he said softly.
The two men standing just inside the chamber door didn't even flinch. The Second Commander, Varon, and Third Commander, Merek, stood tall and composed despite the bizarre setting. Both had stormed countless battlefields, but clearly, they had never expected to conduct war strategy in their general's bedroom while their general cradled a blissed-out beauty in his arms.
"Your reports," Kael ordered.
Varon nodded and stepped forward, unrolling a map he had retrieved from his coat. "The queen's movements have grown erratic. Our informants say she has begun isolating her closest advisors. It's likely she suspects the breach."
Merek grunted. "One of her top nobles has disappeared. We believe he was the informant feeding intel to her about our plans. Based on the timeline, it coincides with the date your... consort acquired access to the archives."
Kael smirked at the term, fingers brushing gently over Auren's spine.
"Consort," he repeated, voice low and amused. "Say it again, Merek."
Merek cleared his throat, trying not to stare too hard at the way Kael's hand was possessively stroking Auren's hip.
"Our consort," Merek corrected with a slight smirk. "Considering how much he risked, he may as well be royalty."
Kael's eyes glinted.
"He is. From this moment onward, he is under my house's protection and bears my crest," he said. "No one lays a hand on him and breathes."
Varon and Merek exchanged a glance, understanding the weight of such a declaration.
[SYSTEM: /whirring]
[PROCESSING…] UPDATE: General Kael has officially declared the Host as his consort. This counts as a TITLE GAINED. (Though not system-registered, the social implications are HUGE.)
[Also: Who the hell plans military actions while cuddling post-coitus like this?? I'm glitching from secondhand embarrassment and arousal.]
The system paced in the air like a translucent hologram, arms metaphorically folded, observing everything with barely restrained sass.
[Note to self: Never let Host near another golden thigh unless we want him turned into political currency or nighttime dessert again. Honestly, Kael's libido is more aggressive than his military tactics.]
Back on the bed, Kael leaned forward slightly as Varon pointed to a marked area on the map.
"This outpost here," Varon said, "is under thin protection. If we move discreetly, we can take it and sever the queen's communication route without declaring full war."
"Good," Kael said. "We'll move at dawn. Keep Auren's involvement off the official record. He did more than his share."
[SYSTEM INTERNAL LOG: --Kael acknowledges Host's value. --Protective tendencies growing. --Possible dependency: HIGH. --Affection levels: THREATENINGLY WHOLESOME. --Estimated chances of world deviation: 99.7%]
Kael looked down at Auren again, brushing a kiss against his temple when he weakly groaned.
"Sleep, love," he murmured. "You've done enough. Now let me finish this war for you."
[SYSTEM EXTERNAL THOUGHT: Cue the dramatic warhorns. Also, can someone pass me an emotional support buffer? Because I'm about to overheat from all this affection.]