by H. M. Wolfe
“What do you want to call Ezra for?” Ardan asked in a low, raspy voice, making the redhead flinch. “Your cousin must be very tired, why wake him up so late at night? You have me if you need to be somewhere at this hour.”
“Don’t even think about it! That goddamn nightmare drained you. The last thing you need is to get up and drive,” Alasdair violently protested. “You stay here and sleep. I’ll find myself someone else if Ezra...”
“I’ll drive,” Ardan categoric voice cut the redhead short. “I’m not that weak. I’ve seen much worse,” he continued, putting on a pair of jeans and a turtleneck.
“You look yummy in those, and that’s the real reason I want you to stay home.” Alasdair tried a joke, to make the atmosphere less tense. He realized his protective attitude made the older man feel useless.
“And you know there’s no place in my heart for someone else,” Ardan whispered, his gaze filled with love, but also a lot of sadness. “Let’s go.” He abruptly ended the conversation, grabbing the keys.
They drove in absolute silence, the older man focused on the road, holding the wheel in a tight grip. His jawline was sharper than usual, lips pressed in a tight line, the expression on his face even harder to decipher. From the corner of his eye, Alasdair watched his boyfriend, and he couldn’t help but wonder what the nightmare was about, but he knew better than to ask Ardan.
“Here we are. There’s no need to come inside. I won’t be long, promise.” The redhead kissed the older man on his cheek.
“I’ll come with you,” he replied in the same categoric voice from earlier. His turquoise eyes had a hardened look; there was something almost savage in them.
Whatever the nightmare was about, it clearly did a number on him, Alasdair thought. “Good,” he said, heading to the Institute’s entrance.
The members of the staff were informed about their arrival, so it took them less than five minutes to reach Erling’s room. “Hello, there,” Alasdair said in his usual, soft voice, peeking inside. “Do you want company?”
“You’re finally here!” the teen said, managing to sit after considerable effort and with help from Luca. He looked exhausted and pale, but the arrival of the two men lifted his spirit, making him smile.
“Sorry for skipping my daily visit, but the professors have been a royal pain in the neck lately with the midterm madness and everything.” Alasdair took the teen’s hand between his own, rubbing it lightly.
“I’m happy you could make it, both of you,” Erling started to talk, the light in his eyes dimming a little bit. “I don’t want it to die. Please tell Doctor Stark not to kill it,” he pleaded, bursting into tears.
“The baby? Does Uncle Rayne intend to harm it? Why would he do that?” Alasdair caressed the boy’s damp cheek, but he already knew the answer. It was either the teen or the baby, only one of them could make it alive.
“Nobody kills anybody, kid, not if I have a word to say about it,” Ardan spoke firmly, massaging Erling’s back. “I’m sure Doctor Stark will find a way to...”
“If it’s likely I won’t make it, please, take care of it. I don’t want it to end up in an orphanage, like the others. They’re raised to be evil. Terrible things happen in orphanages.”
“What are you talking about?” Alasdair was pale, his voice shaky, because, somehow, he suspected the answer would contain some terrible revelations, and he wasn’t wrong.
“Immediately after birth, people at the lab take the babies and, after keeping them in incubators for about six weeks, they take them to an orphanage. There, the children are raised to be of use: the most beautiful of them become high-class escorts, and the other ones are trained as bodyguards.”
“To pleasure and protect the rich and powerful, making them dependent on their services and, ultimately, on the person who controls them,” Ardan spoke in the same harsh voice he’d used with Alasdair before getting to the hospital. “I know the fucker’s plan all too well.”
“What are you talking about?” Alasdair’s eyes widened in shock and fear. “Were you one of their victims too? Of that Conroy bastard and his twisted-minded acolytes?”
“Winters is not the mastermind behind that monstrosity, although he claims that. That human-faced beast planned everything, and he used to brag about it, almost every time when... If, by his fucked-up standards, I wasn’t compliant enough, he threatened to send my friends to the orphanage or even worse, to have them checked into the clinic.”
“I also heard about that clinic.” Erling nodded, his face whiter than a sheet of paper. “Doctor Winters said that if I failed to give birth, I would be sent to the clinic because my excellent DNA makes me the perfect donor.”
“Wait a minute, an organ donor? The kids checked into that clinic were organ donors?” Alasdair gasped in shock, the pieces of that evil puzzle finally clicking into place, the impact of the revelation devastating for him.
The monster behind the child prostitution ring and the lab, with all its horrors, was his uncle Benjamin. The realization that he shared the same blood with that sick, twisted, perverted monster made the redhead’s stomach twist in a knot, and he made great efforts not to throw up. Fortunately, Ardan’s voice brought him back from that state, almost instantly calming him down.
“Listen, kiddo. No one’s going to take that baby of yours to an orphanage because it will be you who takes care of it,” he assured Erling, continuing to rub his back. “Doctor Stark has outstanding abilities. I trust him to find the best solution, so both you and the baby can be saved.”
“Of course!” Alasdair jumped from the bed, making the others flinch and stare at him in shock. “I need to Uncle Rayne. You mentioned he’s still here, or...” The redhead turned to Luca.
“Most likely, Doctor Stark hasn’t left. I saw Doctor Stone coming out of his office, five minutes or so ago,” the young man answered, casting a suspicious glance in Alasdair’s direction. Doctor Stone was Rayne’s closest collaborator at the Institute.
“I’ll go talk to him. You stay here with Erling.” The redhead’s voice made Ardan, who was half-raised from his chair, plop down on it again.
Indeed, Rayne was in his office, talking with Maxine and three other members of his research team. Seeing his nephew, the man smiled and invited him to join the little group. As soon as Alasdair started to talk, he had everyone’s undivided attention. Citing precedents and using illustrative examples for each of the procedures he described, the red-haired med school student won everyone’s approval.
Rayne summoned other specialists whose assistance was needed for the success of the procedure, and the special surgery block was properly prepared for the long, complicated and risky intervention. Doctors and nurses moved from the hospital building to the surgery block, ready for the rescue mission, like a little, effective army.
To his huge surprise, Alasdair was also invited to take part in the intervention, so he changed into the uniform, and then started to wash and disinfect his hands. Meanwhile, Erling was brought from his room to the surgery block with Luca and Ardan encouraging him all the way to the surgery room’s entrance.
Then, the agonizing wait started, each of the two men acting differently. The usually calm Italian was nervously pacing up and down the waiting room while the other man sat on a chair, head propped in his hands, doing what he hadn’t done in a very long time: praying. His prayer wasn’t directed to a specific deity, he just hoped there was someone out there to listen to him and take care of those innocent souls.
A baby’s sharp cry made Luca stop in his tracks and look in the surgery room’s direction while Ardan slowly raised his head, just in time to see Alasdair coming out, looking exhausted but extremely happy. The man almost ran to the redhead, wrapping him in a warm hug.
“It’s a beautiful boy with stunning eyes.” The redhead sighed in relief. “And Erling’s fine too,” he added, looking in Luca’s direction. “He asked for you, but the sedatives have already kicked in, so he’ll be awake again in a few hours.�
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“Thank you, mille grazie, Alasdair,” the young man said, his eyes glistening with tears of gratitude.
CHAPTER 15
Hands folded under his head, Ardan was staring at the ceiling, listening to Alasdair’s even breath and watching him sleeping peacefully, his fiery red, curly hair spread all over the pillow. Tentatively, the man ran his fingertips through the soft, silky strands, inhaling the discreet scent of the shampoo the redhead used.
A week before Ardan had received the fateful message and since then, had been lost, reduced to who he had once been. A teen desperate enough to accept anything, to warm anyone’s bed and serve as their toy, so he could get a handful of younger kids out of that hellhole, untouched.
Once he was aware that his time on earth might end any day, Ardan started to think about his relationship with the beautiful redhead sleeping next to him. A desperate need to make love to Alasdair, of becoming one heart and soul with him took over the man, making him lose all control over his emotions and actions.
Once, when the teen had come out of the bathroom, Ardan had captured his mouth in a wild, fierce kiss, leaving him breathless. On another occasion, when Alasdair wanted a massage, he had run his hands up and down the redhead’s back, making him moan and want more.
Somehow, Ardan had managed to regain control, but next time that happened, he decided to go all the way. The clock was ticking, and not in his favor, the man thought, suddenly tired of everything. For the first time in his life, he wanted to throw away the weight on his shoulders and be happy with Alasdair. Just once, just for a day.
“What are you thinking about?” The sound of the redhead’s voice made Ardan flinch, but only for a split second.
“You. Us. Our relationship. Where I want to be ten years from now...” the older man smiled weakly, sneaking an arm under the boy’s shoulders and pulling him closer.
“Oh, yeah? And where do you want to be in ten years?” Alasdair purred seductively, rubbing against his boyfriend like he was a dancing pole.
“Here. In this room, in this bed, making love to you, kissing every inch of your smooth, soft skin, touching every spot on this perfect little body, becoming a part of you as you become a part of me,” Ardan whispered heatedly against his boyfriend’s skin. “Make love to me, Alasdair.”
The man’s voice, the words pouring from his tongue were sweet music to the redhead’s ears, but he wanted confirmation. “Make love to you... like here and now?” the teenager asked, his dark-green eyes shining like two emeralds.
“Yes, if that’s what you want.” Ardan started to trace the contour of his boyfriend’s face with the pad of his thumb, locking eyes with him.
But Alasdair didn’t reply right away. Instead, he started to caress the man’s face, running both hands through his hair, kissing his neck. “Nothing would make me happier.”
Ardan stayed still for a moment, losing himself in the intensity of the redhead’s stare, his turquoise eyes illuminated from the light inside him that had finally found its way out. Gently, the man rolled Alasdair to his back, worshipping him with hot lips and gentle touches, just like he dreamed about since they’d been together.
Extending his hand to the nightstand, Ardan grabbed the bottle of lube, placing it close by, then resumed the exploration of his lover’s body, by tenderly kissing the boy’s inner thighs, eliciting sweet, low sounds of pleasure from him.
“Please, have mercy,” Alasdair managed to say, his breath hitching. “All the things you do to me... they drive me crazy. It feels so good,” he continued, lightly tugging at the man’s hair, making him smile against the skin he tenderly started to nip at. Suddenly, Ardan stopped, a frown creasing his forehead.
“I... I don’t have any condoms around because I haven’t been with anyone in the last ten years,” he lowered his gaze.
“That makes two of us,” Alasdair had the smallest of smirks. “It’s just you and me, remember?” He extended a hand, caressing the man’s back and making him shiver in response.
Slowly nodding, Ardan started to work the redhead open, locking eyes with him, carefully watching his expression to detect any sign of discomfort, but all he saw was pure bliss and abandonment to the pleasure. Still, it wasn’t enough to assure the man, so he initiated another kissing session.
Sitting with his back against the headboard, Ardan picked up Alasdair, placing him in his lap. He hesitantly looked at the boy for several seconds, then smiled, covering his chest with kisses. Feeling his lover’s steel-hard cock pocking at his hole, the redhead lifted himself a little, then started to gradually lower down, allowing Ardan inside him inch by inch until he was full.
The man smiled, hugging his young, virgin lover, and started to gently move in and out of him, covering Alasdair’s neck and chest with sweet, butterfly kisses as whispered words of love and praise flowed from his lips. At the same time, the redhead circled Ardan’s neck with his arms, putting his head on the man’s shoulder and licking him behind his ear.
Their rhythm, although slow and tender, did things to Alasdair’s nether regions, sending sweet shocks of pleasure to his cock, hardening to the point it started to drip precum onto the other man’s abdomen. Noticing, Ardan took the redhead’s hardness into his hand, slowly stroking it with the precum as lubricant.
To distract Alasdair from his actions, the man started to slowly circle one of the redhead’s pink nipples with the tip of his tongue, gently sucking at it. The redhead pushed the little pebble of flesh deeper in his lover’s mouth, shivers of pleasure running up and down his sweaty back.
On the edge of insanity, his turquoise eyes burning with love and desire for the boy in his lap, Ardan spilled himself inside the beautiful redhead while Alasdair shot his load between them, trembling. All the time, the older man never ceased to caress his back and kiss his cheeks, lips and forehead, whispering sweet nothings into the boy’s ear.
They spent a while like that, tightly pressed against one another, inebriated by their partner’s scent, lost in each other’s eyes, a reflection of their souls. Ardan took Alasdair in his arms again, placing him on the bed and pulling the covers over them. Tugging a damp strand of fiery red hair behind his young lover’s ear, the man chastely kissed his lips.
“You’re beautiful,” Ardan whispered, eyes brimming with unshed tears, “and I’m grateful to you for allowing me in your life and heart. I love you so much, Spitfire, that my heart aches at the thought...” he stopped abruptly, but it was too late.
“I love you, too.” Alasdair extended a hand, caressing Ardan’s cheek. “Unlike yours, my heart doesn’t ache, it jumps with joy. Why does yours feel so heavy?”
“Because I’m stupid and didn’t appreciate what I had while I had it, and I hadn’t realized it until now.” Ardan sighed. Knowing the redhead, he anticipated his questions and came prepared for them. No more secrets, the man decided, at least now, when the time they still had was too precious to be wasted away with petty things.
“Well, it’s never too late.” Alasdair’s soft voice brought his lover back. “And in this case, it was worth the wait. It was too good to describe in words. This is a moment I’ll treasure forever.”
“Me, too, for the rest of my days. My only regret is... scratch that, I have none. Not with this beautiful, red-haired boy lying next to me after giving himself to me completely.” Ardan wrapped the redhead in a protective, warm, tender embrace.
“Okay, what’s on your mind? And don’t tell it’s nothing because I’m not buying it.” Alasdair locked his dark-green eyes with his man’s turquoise ones.
“No, I won’t lie to you. Not now, not ever, for as long as I’m going to walk on the face of the earth, and that’s a promise.” Ardan spoke in a solemn voice, kissing the redhead’s temple.
“Tell me, what you’re worried about? What’s with this note of finality in your voice? You’re worrying me.” Alasdair slid an arm behind the older man’s neck, pulling him into a desperate, hungry, all-consuming kiss.
&nb
sp; “Ten years ago, when I and the others escaped that nightmarish existence, we got help from one of the guards, who liked...” For a moment, Ardan’s voice broke, but then he continued, “That man was the only one who treated me like I was more than a mere object, and he agreed to look the other way when we ran. I owed him, and now he’s come back to collect the debt.”
“How much do you owe him? I can go to my grandfather and ask for the money. It won’t be a problem.” A sigh of relief escaped from Alasdair’s lips.
“I wish it was that simple, Spitfire, but it isn’t. You see, the favor I owe to that man was unnamed. It could be anything, from money to my own life. Whatever it is, I have to repay the debt. I gave my word.”
They stayed like that in silence, enjoying the closeness, the intimacy between them, the atmosphere relaxed and serene in spite of Ardan’s revelations. My man opened up his heart. He let me inside, and that was the most important thing, the redhead thought. Together they could surpass any obstacle.
“If he wants to take your life, there’s going to be war. An ugly, bloody, messy war,” Alasdair finally spoke, an edge to his voice. “This man, whoever he is, can’t mess with us and get away with it.”
“No, there’s not going to be any war,” Ardan’s answer came in a soft but firm voice. “With the Isaac Williamson and Senator Mannion investigation, not to mention chasing down the bloody monster behind that lab of horrors, the Dragons’ House can’t afford to go to war, especially not one of epic proportions like that.” Tightening his jaw, Ardan mentally cursed the two bastards who’d had the idea of selling the babies the poor boys, who’d been forcefully impregnated in the lab, gave birth to.
“Epic proportions?” Alasdair propped himself in one elbow, giving his boyfriend a half-frustrated, half confused look. “You talk about it as if it’s a whole army and not just a guard with a handful of followers.”
