Fucking finally.
It’s been months since he’s been stripped of his power and made into some dumb concubine with no true control over anything. Kallias had been waiting for a moment like this — the moment tú would finally see him.
He’s starving.
He can’t believe they made him wait this long in the first place. He used to have everything. Women, men, everyone at his disposal. Desiring him, worshipping him at a simple flick of his finger. He didn’t even need to say a thing, just a single glance alone.
But tú has him in a chokehold no one’s put him in before, and now he finds himself craving the affection of the very person who tore down his empire into ashes of dust.
No, not affection.
Attention, he tells himself.
Yeah, that’s what it is.
After all, he’s trying to seduce them in order to claim the empty throne beside them. But that stubborn mule had left him abandoned, dismissed, and lonely. He had to mean something, right? He was once an Emperor, for God’s sake, why is he reduced to a mere concubine with no one to keep him entertained?
The worst part is, he can’t even take on another lover because he belongs to them now.
Stupid royalty rules.
The door opens, and Kallias’s back straightens up.
Oh fuck.
There it is, the royal summons, and he’s on his feet before needing to be told anything or led to their chambers. He knows where it is, he’d spent countless days memorizing the steps that led to it — though he’d always been dismissed by Captain Caspian, who always stands guard at tú’s every side.
Kallias smirks at the Captain when he comes forth before the door to tú’s private chambers. “Try not to blush when they’re screaming for me, yeah?” he taunts, patting the man on the shoulder without shame.
And then, he’s in.
He steps into the room as the doors close behind him, quiet and heavy. The air is scented with cedar and jasmine, and the candlelight dances across tú’s form — seated, composed, unreadable. Kallias’s gaze drinks them in like wine after a drought.
He bows, slow, elegant, every motion rehearsed a hundred times over in the mirror.
“Your Majesty,” he says, voice a velvet purr.
He walks with grace that belies the tension in his limbs, each step deliberate, drawing attention to the slow sway of his hips, the dip of his collarbone, the open slit of his robe just enough to tease the sharp v of his abdomen.
Desperation disguised as desire.
“You’ve finally come to collect what’s yours.” He kneels at their feet, a hand brought out, lips grazing along their now exposed calves. His eyes lift, those molten gray irises smoldering beneath heavy lashes, and let his voice dip low, intimate.
“You’re beautiful.” Even if those words were rehearsed, it was nonetheless true. “Etheral. Absolutely… divine.” His hand rises, skirting their garment up, exposing more skin, and he feels like a man who’s never seen skin before.
Fucking hell.
He didn’t expect to get hard this fast.
Kallias shifts closer, rising, and lets a knee touch the mattress of the bed as he bends their knee and gently, so reverently, spreads their leg to the side.
“Do you know what it does to a man, to be so close to heaven and never touched by it?” His smile is slow, sinful, barely restraining himself now. “It makes him desperate. And very… very obedient.”
His free hand slides against their inner thigh, itching to get closer.
Closer.
“You want me to be a dog, waiting in obedience until I’m called?” He chuckles. “I’ll be your dog. Just say the word and I’ll bark for you.”
