Two hours from the city, Lucian drove toward the port. The roads grew quieter as the city's glow faded. Near the docks, he parked in a secluded spot and stored the truck in his spatial space. The port was closed, so he jogged through the cool night air to the pier where his yacht was docked.
He slowed down, taking in the sight. The yacht gleamed faintly under the dock lights. It was sleek, modern, and perfectly maintained. No matter how many times he saw it, he couldn't help but admire its design.
The black-and-white hull stood out against the dark water. Multiple decks offered comfort and function—open spaces for relaxing, dining, and watching the waves. Inside, the main salon was bright and minimalist, furnished with white leather seats and a glass coffee table.
The master suite was cozy, with a large bed, soft lighting, and ocean-facing windows. The modern bathroom featured dual sinks and clean lines. The kitchen was tidy and equipped with new appliances and a small dining nook by the helm, making it ideal for quiet meals. The garage held two jet skis and a compact motorboat.
After a brief tour, Lucian went up to the main deck and started the engine. The low hum vibrated beneath his feet as the yacht drifted from the harbor into the open sea. By then, night had deepened, and only a few other boats dotted the horizon. When he was certain no one else was nearby, he slowed to a stop and prepared to anchor.
Before doing so, he changed into a black rash guard and matching shorts, then headed down to the garage. Pulling one of the jet skis into the water, he jumped in after it, climbed aboard. For a moment, he just sat there, scanning the dark surroundings. Convinced he was alone, he stored the yacht in his space, leaving only himself and the jet ski on the open water.
Lucian rode back toward the coast, stopping at a secluded area near the shore. One of his quiet passions was swimming, so without hesitation, he dove into the water and put the jet ski into his space before swimming the rest of the way.
When he reached the beach, he took a few moments to catch his breath, then retrieved a fresh set of clothes, a towel, alcohol wipes, and one of his Range Rovers from his space. Lucian was meticulous, and he never skipped disinfection after being in open water. He wiped down thoroughly before slipping into a comfortable black cotton shirt, shorts, and rubber shoes.
He slid into the driver's seat of his armored SUV, the leather cool against his skin. The vehicle had been customized for durability and protection—bulletproof glass, reinforced panels, and an upgraded engine.
By 11:20 p.m., Lucian arrived at the hotel he had booked near the port the day before. As he stepped through the glass doors, the cool air of the lobby greeted him, along with a polite smile from the receptionist behind the counter.
"Good evening, Mr. Wang. We've received all your packages—they've already been placed inside your suite. Also, your guest, Mr. McKenzie, arrived about an hour ago," the receptionist said with a polite smile.
"Thank you, Jessica," Lucian replied, returning her smile as he handed her a 10,000 Starlight tip. The receptionist's eyes widened slightly before she beamed in gratitude.
As he walked toward the elevator, a quiet sense of anticipation stirred in him. It had only been a day, yet he already missed Cyril. During their courtship, their closeness had grown through small gestures—holding hands and shared embraces. But now that their relationship had a name, everything felt different. More intimate. More real. And for someone his age, the ache of wanting more was difficult to ignore.
When he reached his suite and opened the door, the sight that greeted him made his heart skip.
Cyril was sitting on the sofa; eyes fixed on the television screen. The soft glow of the TV lit his delicate features.
["Breaking news: According to the Blue Star Health Organization, the number of infected patients in Ameron has risen to thirty. Authorities have begun tracing and quarantining all known contacts. BSHO has also partnered with Celestial Pharmaceutical to begin clinical trials in search of a cure. Citizens are advised to stay calm, wear masks, sanitize regularly, and maintain good health."]
Lucian frowned slightly as he listened, stepping closer until he stood behind the sofa.
"Do you think they'll find a cure?" he asked quietly.
Cyril flinched, startled—he hadn't noticed Lucian entered.
"I… don't know," he said after a pause. "But Celestial Pharmaceutical has a good record. They're the ones who developed the cancer cure, after all."
Lucian's gaze lingered. Cyril's hair was clipped loosely, exposing the pale line of his neck. Tiny droplets clung to his skin, trailing from his collarbone down beneath the folds of his white bathrobe. The faint scent of soap still hung in the air—sweet and tempting.
Cyril's fingers tightened around the edge of the robe, his cheeks flushed pink under Lucian's stare.
Lucian turned away abruptly, jaw tightening. "I'll take a shower," he said, his voice lower than he intended, and disappeared into the bathroom before his self-control wavered.
When Lucian disappeared into the bathroom, Cyril let out a deep breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. His cheeks still felt warm, and his heart wouldn't calm down.
This was his first real relationship. Even though, as a doctor and obstetrician, he knew all the clinical aspects of sexual intercourse, it didn't prepare him for how it actually felt — The nervousness, the flutter in his chest that made him feel both shy and excited,
Maybe things were moving quickly, but somehow, to Cyril, it felt right.
He thought back to his childhood — a home filled with silence and distance. His parents' marriage had been arranged; love was never part of it. As their only child and an omega in a family that valued alphas above all else, he had always been treated like a disappointment. He learned early to stay quiet, to avoid trouble, to expect little.
It wasn't until he turned twenty that he finally found the courage to leave home and start over on his own. Since then, he had built a calm, stable life — but also a lonely one.
Then Lucian entered his life — steady, thoughtful, and unexpectedly gentle. His presence filled that emptiness little by little, until Cyril found himself looking forward to every message, every glance, every quiet moment they shared.
He didn't want luxury or grand gestures. He just wanted to be loved — to feel warmth, to be seen, to belong. And with Lucian, for the first time, that felt possible.