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Wherever they went, they attracted looks, for different reasons. Eridan smiled crookedly to himself. He was rather infamous for his “outrageous” behavior as an initiate, while his Master was easily the most respected mind adept in the Order: admired and feared in equal measure.
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Castien brushed Eridan’s jawline with his thumb, a displeased twist to his lips. “You do not even have stubble. Your face is still disgustingly pretty and boyish. No wonder Tethru wants you.” Eridan scoffed, trying not to lean into the touch like some touch-starved animal. “Well, I’m sorry, Master, for having the audacity to be born with my face.”
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“You are delusional,” Castien said. “Delusional and foolish.” He glared at Eridan, tension rolling off him in waves. “If I wanted to fuck you, I would have. It’s as simple as that. No one would have stopped me, because you are mine. You have as many rights as I give you.” Something cold and mean flickered in his eyes. “Yes, I want you—physically. You are truly delusional if you think that means anything. I am a healthy man, and you are disgustingly pretty; that is all it is.
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“Don’t pretend to be a good man, Master. You’re not. You’re selfish, and you take what you want. And you want me.” He looked Castien in the eyes. “I’m your apprentice, aren’t I? You can do whatever you want with me.” When Castien’s pupils dilated, Eridan smiled, leaned in, and murmured against Castien’s lips, “So use me.” Castien lifted him and shoved him onto his desk. It was a matter of moments to pull Eridan’s pants off and open Castien’s fly.
“Sometimes I wish you never found me,” Eridan mumbled. Warrehn flinched, feeling like he’d been stabbed in the gut. “Or never gave me to him in the first place,”
“My thaal broke.” He pouted. “Will you make another for me? I want another, Master.” “I suppose I can.” “Will you get me another purple one? I know they’re rare, but I want a purple one.” A sigh. “I will.”
“It is nothing to be embarrassed about, you foolish boy,” Idhron said, his voice tinged with irritation. “Do you think you are the first throwback who has imprinted on their Master?”
“I will have to inconvenience you with my icky emotions just this once. I…” He looked around the luxurious room. “I finally have a family. A brother who loves me. I want to be happy. I want to be genuinely happy instead of needing a man who doesn’t give a shit about me. I don’t want to need you.” He looked Castien in the eye. “I don’t want to love you.”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t know, Master. You know everything. You use other people’s emotions to manipulate them, so I’d never believe that you have somehow missed that your own apprentice is stupidly in love with you.”
“Your Grace,” he managed. The title felt strange on his tongue. He felt strange, too, his skin tight and his telepathy oddly restless. Something flickered in those blue eyes. “Your Highness,” the Grandmaster said. It sounded as unnatural as Your Grace did.
Idhron’s expression became a little pinched. “It was your idea, not mine,” he said tersely. “You wanted to forget me and ‘start a new life.’” He said it like he was tasting something foul. Eridan stared at him. He said slowly, “You mean I was in love with you, but you broke my heart.”
“I find that I dislike living in a world where you do not remember me.” Something rueful and self-deprecating appeared in his telepathic presence. “Apparently, I am that selfish. I need you to need me. Therefore, calling your… love for me unrequited is not accurate. It is very much requited.”
Sinead pouted and turned back to the robot, clearly deciding to ignore him. A chuckle made Castien look up. Eridan was leaning against the doorway, smiling widely and radiating amusement. “If only the Chapter could see the great and terrible Grandmaster Idhron having an argument with a three-year-old—and losing it.”
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