I force myself to focus on the lesson, but my mind keeps drifting to this morning. To the way Lucian’s hands shook slightly as he reached for his coffee. To the dark circles under his eyes that seem to deepen each day. To the careful distance he maintains between us, even in our own bed.
Something is wrong. Something beyond the political pressures of court or the stress of recent events. My mate is struggling with something he won’t share, and it’s killing me to watch him suffer alone.
“The morning dose should be administered with honey,” I continue, my hands moving automatically through the familiar motions. “It masks the bitter taste and aids absorption.”
What makes it worse is how gentle he has become with me. Where once he was commanding, possessive, deliciously rough in ways that m
