Chapter 153

Adrian Kael

Next, I lie down, pulling him with me. I hug him tightly, resting my head against his chest.

"Just let me take care of you, Magnus," I say against his skin. "Let me spoil you. It won't make you any less of a man to be pampered. It only shows that you are loved."

I feel his arms wrap around me, pulling me even closer. My heart races at the gesture.

"I can hear your heartbeat," he remarks.

I let out a small laugh.

"I always get nervous when you take the initiative, love. But it makes me happy."

I kiss his neck slowly and close my eyes, feeling the warmth of his body surround me.

"It’s like being home." My voice thickens with emotion. "Your arms are my house, my home."

I stay quiet for a few seconds, savoring the silence that envelops us.

"Can I hug you always?" I ask softly, without lifting my head from his chest.

He takes a moment to respond, the sound of his breathing filling the cell. Suddenly, he lets out a long sigh.

"Yes."

A sincere, almost childlike smile spreads across my face.

"Thank you, love," I utter in a calm tone, letting my eyes drift shut.

And for the first time in a long time, I feel peace.

\[...\]

I wake up with a strange sensation. A nagging discomfort. As if something were wrong, even if the silence suggests otherwise.

I look up and see Magnus sleeping peacefully. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, his expression serene.

I scan the cell. Nothing seems out of place. But the feeling persists, pulsing inside me, restless—like a warning.

I get up slowly, taking care not to make a sound. I grab the sheet and tuck it around his body, covering him up to his shoulders. I lean in and press a soft kiss to his forehead.

"Sleep peacefully, my love," I whisper before pulling away.

I exit the cell as quietly as possible, leaving the bars slightly ajar to avoid the metallic clang of the latch. The hallway is empty, the lights flicker dimly, and the sound of my own footsteps echoes between the cold walls.

But the discomfort only grows.

Something is wrong.

Suddenly, I hear hurried footsteps approaching. I turn and see David running toward me, sweating, his face pale, and his breath hitching.

"B-Boss..." He tries to catch his breath. "The warden... the warden wants to see you in his office."

I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes.

"And why does he want me there, David?" My voice is calm, yet icy.

He swallows hard, his gaze shifting away from mine.

"Your... your father, sir."

My heart races.

"What?"

"Your father is there... along with someone else. I don't know who it is."

Without another word, I brush past him with quick strides. Curiosity and nervousness mix inside me.

What the hell is he doing here so early? He said the "gift" would arrive in two days.

Two.

And yet, here he is.

I pick up the pace. I pass a few guards who immediately lower their heads in respect or fear. The corridor feels longer than usual, and with every step, that strange sensation grows.

When I reach the warden's office door, I don't even knock. I just push it open and walk in.

As soon as I open the door, a body flings itself at me, wrapping me in a hug that’s far too tight.

"Adrian! My son!" The emotional voice almost deafens me.

For a second, I’m paralyzed. Then, slowly, I return the hug—hesitant, forced. The contact repulses me. Magnus is the only one allowed to touch me. No one else. But for now, I have to play along.

"Hi, Dad," I say in a mild, almost fake tone.

He pulls back, cupping my cheeks as if I were still a child.

"How are you, son? Are you eating well? No one has hurt you, have they?" His gaze is worried, almost too paternal for my liking.

I sigh and pull away from his hands, forcing a smile.

"I’m fine, Dad. No one has done anything to me." I lift my chin, maintaining the forced grin. "But... how did you get here so fast? I thought you were coming tomorrow. And I didn't even know you'd be here too."

He shifts his weight, adjusts his suit, and gives a small smile before looking at the man beside him.

"This is my friend, Arthur Cooper." His voice carries a tone of pride. "Arthur, this is my beloved son."

This Arthur guy approaches with a friendly smile. He must be around forty-five, maybe a little older.

"It’s a pleasure to finally meet my friend’s son." He extends his hand. "Your father is always talking about you, Adrian."

I force a huge smile, shaking his hand firmly.

"The pleasure is mine, Arthur. Dad talked quite a bit about you, too."

I catch a glimpse of my father’s eyes tearing up because I called him "Dad."

Oh, what a fucking idiot.

He actually believes this gesture signifies affection.

I let go of Arthur’s hand and turn my gaze back to my father.

"Did you invite your friend to come visit me too, Dad?" I ask in a light, almost playful tone.

Arthur laughs, and the sound irritates me so much I have to struggle to stay in character.

"You have no idea, kid." Still laughing, he speaks with amusement. "Your father practically begged me to come along. He said he needed to deliver a gift to you and insisted so much that I finally gave in. Besides, I confess I was curious to meet his son."

I flash a polite, rehearsed smile.

"That is very kind of you, Mr. Cooper."

He lets out a loud laugh and pats my shoulder—a touch that makes me want to break his hand.

"Now, there’s no need to call me 'sir,' young man. I’m your father’s friend; there’s no need to be so formal. You can call me Uncle Arthur."

I force a smile, controlling the revulsion rising through my body.

"Of course, Uncle Arthur," I say with a voice that is sweet but cold.

The warden clears his throat, trying to cut through the tension hanging in the room.

"How about we go somewhere more comfortable? There’s a more spacious room next door where you can talk better."

"Of course, that would be perfect," my father agrees with an exaggerated smile, stepping closer to me. "Let’s go, son."

I take a step back and raise my hand.

"You guys go ahead," I say naturally. "I just need to stop by my cell and grab something. I’ll meet you there."

I look back at David, who is standing by the door, and smile.

"The guard can accompany me."

My father seems satisfied; he places a hand on Arthur’s shoulder and nods.

"Excellent, son. We’ll wait for you there. Come on, Arthur."

The two of them walk out, chatting away as if they were on any ordinary friendly visit.

As soon as they disappear into the hallway, the smile on my face transforms.

Calm gives way to anxiety—the kind that burns from within.

The gift.

The gift for my god.

I feel my chest thumping hard, blood pulsing in my temples as I walk fast back to my cell. The sound of my footsteps echoes against the walls like a familiar melody.

I am so anxious to see my king's reaction... to see the spark in his eyes when he discovers what I’ve prepared for him.

Yes.

My Magnus is going to love what’s coming.