"I am happy."
Liam stared at him.
There were several things one could do with a sentence like that.
A sensible person might soften. A cruel person might mock it. A court-trained person might pretend not to notice the dangerous honesty buried under the warmth of Arik's voice and allow the moment to pass without creating a scandal out of tenderness.
Liam, unfortunately, was exhausted, marked, bonded, and no longer in possession of the amount of emotional discipline he had spent years cultivating out of necessity.
So he said, "That sounds inconvenient."
Arik's smile deepened.
"It is."
"Good. Suffer."
"I intend to."
Liam narrowed his eyes. "You are still too pleased."
"I have been marked by the man I crossed borders, treaties, assassins, historical grudges, and the entire political rot of Wrohan to find." Arik lowered his head, brushing his mouth against Liam's temple. "I am allowed to be pleased that my mate is as happy as I am."
"You…"
