The Exiled Alpha's Human Male Mate.[BL]

It had been almost an hour, and Bryce still had not come out of the bathroom.

At first, Dave had tried to convince himself that Bryce simply needed to be alone. After everything that had happened, he could understand why.

And if Bryce wanted a little time to himself, Dave was willing to give it to him. He had already pushed enough.

But as the minutes stretched on, concern began to outweigh his patience.

Dave finally rose from the bed and crossed the room, approaching the bathroom door. He could not shake the uneasiness settling heavily in his chest.

Bryce had not looked well earlier, and Dave could not dismiss the possibility that something had happened to him behind that closed door.

He lifted his hand, intending to knock.

Before his knuckles could touch it, the door opened.

The back of Dave’s hand landed against Bryce’s wet chest.

For a moment, Dave simply stared.

His gaze traveled over Bryce almost instinctively, as though he were seeing him for the first time.

The thought was absurd.

He had seen that body more times than he could count during all the years they had lived together.

He knew the shape of Bryce’s shoulders, the way his chest rose when he breathed, the subtle details that familiarity should have made ordinary.

Somehow, it never had.

Every time Dave looked at him, something about Bryce still managed to hold his attention with an inexplicable fascination.

Bryce noticed the way he was staring and immediately stepped back, putting a small distance between them.

The movement was slight, but it struck Dave with disproportionate force.

His fingers curled slowly into a fist at his side as he tried to absorb the coldness behind Bryce’s retreat.

There had been a time when neither of them had needed to measure the distance between their bodies.

Now even an accidental touch seemed unwelcome.

Dave swallowed and forced his attention elsewhere, only for his eyes to settle on the mark at the side of Bryce’s neck.

His brows drew together.

He stared more closely, curiosity overcoming the discomfort that had just settled between them.

"When did you get that tattoo?" he asked.

His voice carried an almost casual quality, as though they were perfectly fine, as though nothing had happened between them and there was no invisible boundary now separating them.

"It looks good. I’ll get one like that."

There was genuine admiration in his voice. The design had caught his attention immediately, although he had no idea what it meant to Bryce or why Bryce had chosen it.

A half moon with a crown resting over it.

What could something like that possibly symbolize?

Bryce gave him no answer.

He simply walked past him, his arm brushing lightly against Dave’s as he passed.

Dave remained where he was for a moment before finally turning back toward Bryce. His gaze fell on Bryce just as he picked up the pajamas he had laid out for him on the bed and shoved them back into the closet.

Dave understood immediately why Bryce had done it.

He was wearing the same pajamas himself, identical in color and style to the ones he had chosen for Bryce, the matching set they had bought together.

-

Bryce looked at them with open irritation.

Seeing Dave wearing his matching set while treating the situation as though nothing had changed only seemed to aggravate him further.

He took out another set instead.

Dave watched silently.

Bryce dropped the towel after drying himself and began dressing, refusing to acknowledge the attention fixed upon him.

Dave’s eyes followed every movement.

He knew he should look away.

But he couldn’t.

When Bryce finished dressing, Dave finally moved.

He removed the pajamas he was wearing and reached for his own set, choosing another pair that resembled the ones Bryce had just put on.

Bryce noticed and simply ignored it.

He climbed into bed despite his reluctance, forcing himself to settle beneath the covers while every instinct told him that he did not want to be there with Dave.

He forced his mind to disregard Dave, just as he had been avoiding him emotionally and physically, reminding himself that he had far more important things to think about than him.

Things like...

Why was the mark still there when Vincent had rejected him?

Was it supposed to remain forever, even after parting ways with your so-called mate?

What Bryce didn’t understand was that Vincent’s rejection had not completely severed their bond.

Vincent had broken his side of it, but Bryce had not broken his own.

For the bond to be severed completely, Bryce would have to reject Vincent as well.

Until then, the connection between them remained incomplete rather than entirely destroyed.

At this point, the bond could still be restored in full if Vincent chose to take Bryce back and mark him again. The possibility remained because Bryce had not rejected him in return.

But once Bryce rejected Vincent too, both sides of the bond would be severed, and there would be no restoring what had been broken.

Since Vincent had severed his side of the bond, he would no longer feel its pull from his end. Bryce, however, had not been afforded the same freedom.

He would still feel the remnants of it. He would still feel Vincent, still sense the inexplicable pull toward him, still want him, and perhaps worst of all, feel possessive of him.

Not with the same overwhelming intensity the bond had possessed when it was fully settled, but enough to remind him that it was still there.

"Bryce, I’m so sorry."

Dave’s quiet voice in the darkness pulled Bryce abruptly from his thoughts, but he offered no response.

He kept his eyes closed, his body turned away from Dave, unwilling to give the apology even a word.

The remaining hours before morning seemed to stretch with deliberate cruelty.

Time moved painfully slowly, each minute dragging into the next while Bryce lay awake, unable to find even a moment of respite in sleep.

Dave did not sleep either.

Bryce could hear him beside him, shifting restlessly beneath the covers, occasionally turning over as though he could not find a comfortable position. Despite that, Dave never reached for him or say anything.

Eventually, six o’clock appeared on the clock.

Bryce got out of bed, determined to prepare himself and leave for another place he already despised with everything in him.

The job.

It wasn’t work he wanted, nor was it somewhere he wanted to be, especially after collapsing infront of everyone after the rejection and, for one terrifying moment, coming dangerously close to death.

He forced the thoughts aside.

It did not matter.

The job would pay him, and that was enough. He could endure the place, the work and the people.

None of them knew the truth behind what they had witnessed anyway. They had seen a man crumble, but they had no idea why.

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