CHAPTER 82

CHAPTER 82
Adrian Kael

We stay like that, eating peacefully, our bodies close, as if the entire world had ceased to exist—and perhaps, for the two of us, it truly has.

As soon as we finish eating, he stands up, still holding my hand. He doesn't let go. He just pulls me along, forcing me to follow him, his grip firm and possessive as always.

"I want to stretch my legs," he complains. "Being watched all the time is a drag."

I smile, not minding at all, and let him lead me. I love it when he does that—when he keeps me glued to his side.

We head to the courtyard. The snow isn't as thick as before, but the cold still cuts through the air. Just as we take our first step outside, the distant sound of blades fills the sky. A helicopter approaches, the violent wind kicking up snowflakes in every direction.

Before I can shield myself, a gust hits me right in the face, covering half my vision.

Magnus lets out a loud laugh—a rare and beautiful sound—while I try to wipe the snow from my eyes.

"That wasn't funny, my love," I grumble, feigning indignation. "I could have died of suffocation because of this damn snow."

He laughs even harder, shaking his head.

"Don't be so dramatic, love. You weren't going to die."

I pout, but I can't help but smile seeing him laugh like that. My gaze, however, soon turns to the helicopter, and the laughter dies on my lips. I recognize the symbol emblazoned on the side—my family's crest.

The door opens, and my father steps down with a wide smile, his suit perfectly tailored.

"Adrian, my son!" he shouts, coming toward me. "Let’s go home!"

He hugs me tightly, which makes me let out a small groan of pain. I grimace, and my king tries to hide a laugh.

"You are free," the emotion is clear in my father's voice. "We can leave now. But..." He looks me up and down. "I think it’s better if you change clothes first."

He turns, goes to the helicopter, and returns holding a black leather bag.

"Here are some new clothes. I didn't know Magnus's exact size, but I bought everything in large."

I smile, taking the bag.

"Perfect. Thank you, Dad."

His eyes shine at the way I called him. Pathetic.

"You're welcome, my son," he smiles with pride. "I’m going to go talk to the Warden. Go change."

I grab my god’s hand and pull him, leaving the courtyard.

"Love, calm down," he laughs softly. "Remember that my body isn't a hundred percent healed yet."

I slow down immediately, feeling the weight of the anxiety dissipate a little.

"I’m sorry, my love. I’m just... too anxious to leave this hell." I kiss the back of his hand tenderly.

We reach the cell.

"You don't want to take anything?" he asks, looking around the place.

I roll my eyes.

"There’s nothing important here," I say with a lopsided smile. "The only important thing I had was your pee."

He swats the back of my head, making me laugh.

"I’m kidding, my love."

"Kidding my ass!" he huffs, blushing. "I know you. If I let you, you would have kept that damn bottle!"

I shrug because… well, he isn't wrong.

I place the bag on the bed and unzip it. Inside, there are two changes of clothes, and not just any clothes. My father definitely overdid it.

For Magnus, there is a pair of slim-fit black tailored trousers, a silk burgundy shirt, and a black leather jacket with elegant cuts and silver details that look like they were molded for him. There is also a pair of mid-calf leather boots, so new they still shine under the dim light of the cell.

When he puts them on, my heart simply stops. The jacket hugs his broad shoulders, highlighting every curve and every muscle, and the contrast between the burgundy silk and his warm skin is… devastating.

Magnus looks like a living curse—beautiful, dangerous, and impossible to resist.

"My God…" My throat goes dry as I speak. "That jacket should be illegal."

He laughs, adjusting the collar and looking at me with that smile that completely deconstructs me.

"You like it?"

"Like is an understatement," I say, my voice hoarse. "It makes me want to kneel just looking at you."

He shakes his head, amused, and steps closer to run his hand over my face.

"Control yourself, love."

Meanwhile, I put on my own clothes: a tight black cotton shirt, dark gray dress pants, and a long overcoat, also black, with a refined finish. The fabric is light but elegant, and the scent of the new material blends with the smell of leather.

When I finish getting ready, he observes me from head to toe with a hungry, proud look.

"Now we're talking…" His low voice carries pure satisfaction. "You’re dressing like the man I like."

I smile, adjusting the collar of his shirt.

"And you…" I rest my forehead against his. "You’re dressing like the man I worship."

He kisses my lips in a calm, almost reverent gesture. Our mouths move in sync—slow, soft—savoring the moment as if it were the first and the last all at once.

His hands move up to my waist and pull me closer, his fingers gripping firmly enough to draw a muffled, involuntary groan from between my lips.

When he breaks the kiss, the frustration escapes me in another groan, stifled and helpless.

"Don't worry…" A half-smile appears, his eyes gleaming. "We'll kiss whenever you want."

He kisses my forehead and speaks softly.

"Ready? It's time to finally leave this place."

I smile, my heart racing, and I kiss his throat before taking his hand, intertwining our fingers.

"Yes, let’s go, my love."

We leave our old cell behind and walk down the corridor. Every step sounds different now—lighter, freer.

"I’m so satisfied that my father arrived ahead of schedule," I comment excitedly.

"You know, love, I’ve always wanted to ask… Why don't you like him?" he asks suddenly.

I shrug; the answer comes without a second thought.

"I don't know. To be honest, I don't like any human being except you, love. To me, they’re nothing but vermin breathing the same pure air you do. I hate it when they touch me without permission, and he does it all the time, knowing I hate it. So… that’s reason enough for me to want to kill him."

Magnus smiles slightly, bringing my hand to his lips and kissing it affectionately.

"No killing your father, love."

I sigh, almost disappointed.

"But he’s only useful for a few things, love. Now that we’re leaving here, I don't need him anymore."

He leans in and kisses my forehead.

"Leave your father in peace, my love."

Hearing him call me that completely melts me. I feel my chest warm up, and I smile, shaking my head.

"You’re manipulating me, love."

He only smiles, without denying it, and that’s enough to make me laugh quietly.

We return to the courtyard. There stand the Warden, my father—still with that victorious smile—and even David, whom I prefer to pretend doesn't exist. I pull my love by the hand, straight toward the helicopter.

"Climb in, my king."

I help him up and soon join him, fastening the belt across his body first, then my own.

My father approaches. I huff, irritated just by the sight of him; he should just stay here and die already. Before I can say anything, I feel Magnus’s warm hand rest on my thigh, squeezing lightly. All the hate evaporates in a second. I melt into his touch.

My father signals the pilot, and the helicopter begins to rise. The blades spin with force, and the prison grows smaller and smaller until it vanishes completely from my sight.

I look at my father, who understands my gaze and simply nods. I smile faintly in response.

Magnus watches the sky through the window, his eyes fixed on the clouds.

Who would have thought it would all end like this?

Me, the one who believed Magnus would never surrender, that he’d spend his life hating me. But he surrendered. He fell in love. He loves me. He is as possessive of me as I am of him.

I love him so much that sometimes it feels like all of this is a dream, that at any moment I’ll wake up and realize none of this is real. But it is. His hand squeezing my thigh is real.

Magnus is real.

He isn't a dream; he is my reality.

I close my eyes, letting this feeling consume me entirely.

Our story began with a simple look in a diner… and it unfolded inside a prison.

Now, we move forward together, ready to continue in the real world—no bars, no chains.

Just the two of us.

Forever.

I open a lazy smile and murmur.

"Imagine if this helicopter crashed right now?"

"Shut the hell up," Magnus replies seriously, but the tone draws a loud laugh from me.

I squeeze his hand, watching the horizon that opens up before us.

Our future starts here. And Magnus will never leave me, because we were born for each other.

And if one day he tries to change that…

Well, I have my cruel methods to ensure it stays this way.

THE END.