"Just get ready to go to sleep, Julian," Alaric whispered and didn't wait for Julian to stand before leaning down, his large frame covering the desk.
Then, he hooked one arm behind Julian's back and the other beneath his knees, lifting him with ease as if he were made of paper.
Julian let out a small, startled breath, his hands instinctively reaching up to clutch at the lapels of Alaric's robe. How could the Duke walk around the manor while carrying him in his arms?
But those words never came out.
He was too tired to protest the loss of dignity. So, he simply let his head fall against the Duke's shoulder, his eyes slipping shut as the steady heat of Alaric's body finally began to dampen the jagged frequency in his brain.
"I have you," Alaric murmured, his voice vibrating against Julian's temple. "Just breathe, and I'll take care of the rest."
The doors to the room swung open, and the Duke laid Julian down on the sheets with a gentleness that bordered on reverence.
