Page 13 of Regal Feather
Looking like I was on the brink would not help when I was knocking on his door at almost midnight, when he’d been heading to bed at nine at the latest.
He might not hear it. I didn’t knock too hard. It might be for the best—he might think it was an emergency, and this would be ten times more embarrassing for everyone involved.
I’d only taken one step back when the door slammed open. Santos had a pair of loose pants on but no shirt. I did not,definitely did not, stop to check him out. That was not a thing, and I needed to focus.
“What’s up?” Santos frowned. He didn’t sound like he did when he’d been sleeping and something had pulled him out of it. A sheen of sweat covered his forehead. “Did you want to head out or something? Give me five to shower and put some clothes on, and we can.”
“Uh…” I blinked.
I didn’t want to head out, but it was taking me too long to parse out an answer that made some sort of sense.
“No, yeah, I’m doing that. I’ve been going insane in here. Fresh air will help.”
“Uh, Santos.” I edged closer. I didn’t know what I was doing, but instinct had always been the name of the game with him. I had to believe it was the same now. “Stop.”
“Stop what?”
His chest heaved up and down. I moved closer still. Rules and propriety had never beena thing between the two of us. It was why there were no loud voices overthinking the movement when I cupped his face with both hands.
Only confusion when I felt a scar that hadn’t been there before. One that ran from his cheek, all the length of his ear. “What happened?”
I wasn’t that naive. I knew shit happened, but it was asking, or mourning the fact that there was more he hadn’t told me.
The latter was confirmed when he glanced away. “Hazing gone wrong.”
“What?” I shrieked.
My heart now beat for a different reason. Anger wasn’t an emotion I felt often. I didn’t like it—the intensity, the need for violence that assaulted me.
Every time it came, it had to do with him. Santos, who everyone either underestimated or took for granted as themuscles without a brain. No one saw him, not like I did. It made me furious.
“It was a long time ago.” A small smile made an attempt to surface, but it didn’t quite work out. “During camp.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” I hissed. It could’ve happened when he was born, and I’d still be furious about it. “You should’ve told me.”
“I didn’t have a phone then, remember?”
Right.
The bittersweet tang of the past clung to my tongue. After we were caught by his parents, they took him from our school to a military school and confiscated basically all his privileges. He didn’t have a phone again until he had graduated and gone through the camp or whatever it was he had to do to join the Air Force. Military anything had never interested me, even though it was the one thing the monarchy still had control over.
“I’m sorry.” It was the only thing I could bring myself to say as I traced the healed silvery line.
“I know.” He sighed. I didn’t know if he was aware, but he leaned into the touch. And it felt like things were back to how they used to be. Santos played the role of the big protector with me, but in close quarters, he craved the same amount of affection I did. “What did you want? Before I freaked out on you.”
I snorted. It had to be a good sign that we acknowledged his rambling about going out, right?
“Will you come to my room?” I licked my lips. “I thought we could, uh, you know, share a bed like we used to? Unless you think it’s silly?”
“We can do that,” he—thank fuck—interrupted me. “I didn’t want to assume since, y’know, you have a Dom now.”
It felt like there was more left unsaid, but I didn’t have the bandwidth to address it right this minute.
“I told him about you,” I admitted. “He says… I mean, no pressure, but he says that we’re not exclusive, and uh, the cage stays on, but we can do whatever. He actually wants a video of you fucking me. If that were to ever happen, I mean.”
“Will you be punished if it doesn’t?”
I reared back. How was that the first question that came out of his mouth after my confession? I thought he was going to tease me, or make it awkward, or be as shocked as I’d been that Sir Ismael had taken it so well.
