CHAPTER 371: WHERE XION BELONGS

The thing that woke Xion wasn’t the pleasant kisses scattered across his face, nor the tight embrace that seemed to melt him into Darius.

It was the static noise that buzzed in his mind, making his temples jump.

[Ho..... Host! I finally got the connection back!]

Xion nearly winced from the loud voice.

’It’s night,’ he replied.

Honestly, if he had to reply to this inconsiderate system verbally, he wouldn’t have even bothered with a slight hum.

[Is it already?] Without caring much, the system went on, [I thought I fixed the broken connection really fast...]

Before the system could mutter something else, Xion shut it down with one word.

"Sleepy."

The system finally noticed that it was early in the morning hours, and definitely wasn’t the time to discuss why there was a sudden erratic pulse the moment Xion met that priest.

So, silently, the system retreated into the recesses of Xion’s mind.

The silence returned, and along it came the perfect atmosphere that bred thoughts. The memories and ideas that could have been better if left untouched.

The healer, so exhausted he’d fallen asleep right on the throne, now found himself unable to drift back into oblivion.

His neck ached slightly, stiff from his sleeping posture. It was definitely the result of him dozing off while leaning on Darius’ shoulder.

Knowing Darius’ way of dealing with him, the Archduke must have stayed still for a long time — long enough for Xion to fall into deep sleep.

It must have been uncomfortable for him, Xion mused.

He had no clue when he was picked up and brought to their room. But then again, it wasn’t the only time he had fallen asleep in a different place only to wake up here.

There was this one incident where he was playing with Noxian and ended up dozing off on his bed.

Given how territorial that kid was, Xion hadn’t expected Darius to bring him back. He really hadn’t expected both of them to be on such good terms now.

It felt like a century had passed since he left Faymere.

As if drawn by some magical thread, his gaze managed to fall on the broad back.

He could count on one hand the times he’d actually seen Darius asleep — and fewer still if he didn’t count Rael’s light naps.

And even then, all of them were looking directly at that handsome face. This was the first time he had seen Darius turning away from him.

It was just a form. Everyone would do that in their sleep, and he had tossed around too.

But that sight still didn’t sit well with him.

A strange idea bloomed in his heart that one day, his dear husband might truly turn his back on him."

Given how passionate Darius was in this relationship, it was unlikely that it would actually happen.

That was until he himself did something unforgivable.

Xion sighed, exasperated by his wild train of thoughts running directly into some wild territory all over again.

"Darius..."

It took him a few seconds to realize he had accidentally spoken aloud.

His fingers curled over the duvet, waiting. When the sleeping person didn’t move, Xion let out a quiet breath.

Just when Xion was about to close his eyes, the person beside him moved.

First, it was just a slight movement before Darius turned around, and still very much in his sleep, he draped his arm over Xion.

Perhaps Darius wasn’t satisfied, or maybe he heard Xion’s call, the simple posture turned into a mess of tangled limbs, with Darius holding Xion closer to his chest.

Xion tried to move his feet, but the leg wrapping around him didn’t give him much freedom.

He could only stare at how the frown on Darius’ face eased when he didn’t try to move anymore.

A lazy smile appeared on Xion’s face. It was almost as if even in dreams, Darius was aware exactly what he needed. Though Xion himself had no clue.

The sudden hug felt like checking something off a bucket list he didn’t even know he had.

His fingers inched closer until they fell on the soft skin, and like a sneaky kitten, Xion gave the cheek a slight pinch.

That single movement had the alert Archduke move. Before he knew it, warm hands were clutching at his hips, hastily holding him.

The grip was tight, but not to the extent that it would harm Xion. Rather, the kitten seemed to melt at the touch.

It felt comforting to him. Almost as if the Archduke was consoling him, reassuring him that everything was fine and it would continue to be so.

The only problem was the drowsy organ poking his thigh.

Even through the layer of clothes, the heat of that touch seemed to sear his skin. Darius wasn’t aroused, obviously, but this closeness brought some extreme reactions from the healer.

Pink had made its way to his ears as he stayed still until there was no more movement.

Falling back to sleep in this rather questionable situation was strange even for Xion.

He breathed in slow, deep inhales before pressing a soft kiss on Darius’ jaw. The Archduke almost seemed to groan as he leaned down and nuzzled into the crook of Xion’s neck.

The traitorous thing in Xion’s chest betrayed him with how loudly it was thudding against his ribcage.

Instead of wriggling away like before, he stayed still, utterly baffled by how unwilling he was to let go of this warmth.

When did I become so greedy? The only reply was the silence of the dead night.

After a brief pause, he let his fingers thread into the silver hair, gently combing them.

Sure enough, the tight hold on him relaxed.

With nothing to distract him anymore, his attention circled back to the source of the problem.

He watched almost spellbound how those silver lashes cast a slight shadow on his cheeks, at how those luscious, slightly parted lips were so close.

All he had to do was lean down slightly, and they would be able to kiss.

Xion blinked before shutting his eyes close.

The red spread further from his ears to his cheek and even to the back of his neck.

’We are nations’ children. It is our responsibility to protect the young and respect the old...’

The old pledge they used to yell during the ceremony managed to dull his hyper-aware senses along with the throbbing in his lower body.

Whoever said that the embrace of a lover in the winter is the best way to pass out was absolutely right.

He too wanted to stay in this position for a long, long time.

He wouldn’t even mind if he rotted away. As long as he was with Darius, the thoughts that should have scared him would vanish.

Even when they didn’t leave him, they also didn’t scare him to that extent.

After all, Darius made everything feel like a dream. A pleasant dream that a love-starved Xion found at the center of his oasis.

With the lightness gently pulling his eyelids down, the kitten subconsciously nuzzled, his nose rubbing over the length of Darius’ neck, before he promptly fell asleep.

When the two lords of the Northern territory were resting peacefully, in some corner of the main city, a meeting was being held.

"This place is even secluded enough for our ritual."

Another man, dressed in a plain white robe, sighed. "That’s not true. Darius Rael Darkhelm had been especially cruel to us."

As if agreeing to his words, the other three sitting around the round table nodded their heads.

"Do we really need to do this here? That damned devil had never shown any mercy to anyone." The priest looked at the head seat. "Wouldn’t it be better to use the church in Myrthiana?"

Pope Adam had given explicit permission that Father Michael’s words should be taken as the words of the divinity.

The miracles this gorgeous being had performed over three decades left no room to question his place as leader of The Thirteen.

None of the elders had ever shown any negligence. That was until now.

Despite all the support of the civilians, they didn’t dare to take the Archduke lightly. Dealing with the royals was so much better than talking with these northern barbarians.

They fell silent until the one at the head table spoke. "There is one."

Father Michael looked at the five members of The Thirteen.

"They say the divine healer is very dear to the Archduke," Michael said, casually tracing the rim of his coffee cup. "The divine healer should remain where he is supposed to. After all, Xion belongs to the Church."

Belonging to the church...

In other words, Father Michael was declaring his grace Xion as his own property.

The other five fell silent. The resistance to the idea was visible in their gazes, but they could only swallow it down their throats.

They, being the holy servants, had no right to resist Father Michael even as he pushed them all into a pit of venomous snakes.