Julian felt the Duke throb harder inside him, as if resonating to the vulnerability in Julian's voice.
Julian's heart felt like it was finally, truly waking up—breaking out of whatever space he had safely kept hidden all this time.
He was…wide open.
"You taught me what it means to want," Julian whispered, his thumb brushing over Alaric's lower lip. "You taught me how to be greedy... how to understand a heart that I thought was broken. You taught me how to love, Lucien. You taught me how to lust, how to crave, how to feel the weight of another soul."
Alaric's expression shattered. The stoic mask of the North—the iron-willed Duke who had faced armies without blinking—fell away to reveal a man who was utterly, completely undone.
He let out a low, choked sound—half-sob, half-groan—and buried his face in the crook of Julian's neck, his grip on Julian's waist tightening until it was nearly bruising.
