[ AN ORIGINAL BL NOVEL FROM RUNNOX ]
Seyeong was not accepted by society, so he understood harsh realities from a young age. However, his life began to change in college when he met Yeunho, someone who shared his experiences. They became best friend...
Now standing in front of the Archduke's study, Arnoux found himself hesitating. His hand hovered just above the door, the memory of the previous night playing in his mind like a vivid dream. The knock, the door swinging open, being pulled inside—his lips pressed against the Archduke's in a sudden, intimate kiss. The strange sensation of his mana being drawn from him, slowly, deeply. His heart raced at the thought, a nervous flutter rising in his chest. Strangely enough, he didn't hate the Archduke for it. In fact, a part of him—a part he didn't want to acknowledge—felt curious. Was he becoming like Athian, his carefree, reckless younger brother?
Frankly speaking, despite the confident air he'd projected in front of the butler earlier, Arnoux was filled with uncertainty. Yes, he had a plan—a risky one—but still, it was his best shot. He finally had leverage, a way to ensure the Archduke would support him and Athian in their efforts to protect the Tree of Life. But the possibility of ending up like the witch, drained of life in a moment of the Archduke's hunger, gnawed at the back of his mind.
"Phew..." Arnoux exhaled sharply, steeling himself. With a light slap on both of his cheeks, he whispered under his breath, "This is your only shot, Aurie. Go for it!"
Finally, he knocked twice on the heavy door, his voice steady though his heart pounded wildly in his chest. "Archduke, it's me. Arnoux."
"Enter."
The deep, but soft voice sent a shiver down Arnoux's spine. In an instant, he was back in last night's moment: lips locked, the Archduke's hands gripping his body, their breath quick and heavy, hearts pounding as if in sync. Arnoux gulped hard before he twisted the door knob and stepped inside, pushing the door open to reveal the study.
The room was simple yet elegant. Cream-colored walls and polished wooden floors gave a sense of warmth, while neutral-toned furniture added sophistication. Antique statues and vases, seemingly out of place in their grandeur, were placed around the room. In the center stood a long wooden desk, imposing but refined, flanked by a plush chair. Beyond the desk, a large window framed the view of the lush, verdant forest that surrounded the manor—a stark reminder of the Archduke's isolation.
"Come closer," a soft command came, causing Arnoux to flinch. He hadn't even noticed the Archduke at first, his eyes too caught up in the study's aesthetic.
The Archduke sat comfortably on a single-seated couch near the fireplace, his figure partially obscured by the flickering flames and shadows. A pure white cat lay nestled in his arms, purring contentedly under his touch. Arnoux's gaze lingered on the Archduke, who appeared at ease, fragile even. To an outsider, he might seem gentle, harmless—a far cry from the cursed man with an insatiable hunger.
Arnoux's heart skipped a beat as he approached, the memory of the Archduke's touch still fresh. But now, looking at him cradling the small, innocent creature, it was hard to reconcile the two images. The Archduke seemed so calm, so different from the man who had kissed him with an urgency that bordered on desperation.
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