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

Larry escorted Bryce into the house as he always did, following the standing instruction to see him safely to the entrance of the upper residence where he lived with Dave.

The moment Bryce stepped inside, Dave’s natural scent reached him.

It was nothing like Vincent’s overwhelming scent whose intensity could strip him of every shred of restraint and drive his body into an immediate sexual response.

Dave’s was simply familiar, a subtle trace of the man he had spent years beside, ordinary enough that Bryce would once have barely noticed it.

He had begun growing accustomed to these changes in his senses, they had become unnervingly acute.

He could detect the faintest smell, he could hear conversations from distances that should have rendered them inaudible, and notice details that would have passed completely unnoticed by an ordinary human.

A few days earlier, he had even discovered just how rapidly his body could heal when he accidentally cut himself with a razor.

He had watched the blade break his skin and seen the blood emerge, only for the wound to close within seconds, leaving his skin completely flawless as though he had never been injured at all.

He had been so startled that he had nearly convinced himself he had imagined it.

The problem was that Dave had witnessed it too.

Trying to convince Dave that he hadn’t seen what he had plainly watched happen had been nearly impossible.

Bryce had decided to use the conflict already between them to his advantage, starting another argument and throwing accusations over nothing, just to distract Dave and change the subject.

"Is Dave around?"

The scent had become so pronounced that Bryce needed to ask, needing to know whether Dave was home so he could prepare himself for another disaster.

He was still barely holding himself together after what had happened with Vincent earlier, the effects still clinging to both his body and mind, and the thought of facing Dave before he had even recovered from that left him exhausted.

"No. Mr. Sinclair Junior had some business to take care of today, and he said he would come home late."

Bryce already knew that. Dave had told him himself.

But something about being able to smell him so distinctly made it clear he was around.

He could have checked whether Dave’s car was outside, but there were too many vehicles throughout the estate for him to know which one belonged to him.

Bryce stepped into the elevator, hoping the enclosed space would give him a moment to gather his thoughts.

Instead, the moment the doors closed, two familiar voices reached him from somewhere in the mansion.

He knew those voices.

The twins.

Their conversation carried through the walls with such clarity that Bryce could distinguish every word.

"Why did he come back early? Our plan would have worked perfectly today. No one would have suspected us. Since the Ashfords have always been enemies with us and now claim they want to make peace, Dad would have assumed they were pretending, trying to lure us into a trap and have us killed."

Bryce’s brows drew together.

A plan?

"I don’t know, man. I was so fucking furious when he left while the food was being served. That maid must have already poisoned the plate she gave him. Speaking of which, do you think someone else used the plate after he left?"

Bryce’s entire body went still.

Poisoned?

"I don’t think so. The maid couldn’t have been stupid enough to let that happen. She was there when Little Junior left. She must have taken it away."

Bryce’s heart gave a violent beat.

The conversation suddenly made sense.

They had poisoned Dave’s food.

"Where are we going to get another opportunity like the one we just lost?"

"I don’t know, but it’s going to happen soon. I don’t care where. Even in this house. No one can doubt us if it happens right under our noses. Everyone knows our relationship with our younger brother is perfectly smooth. They think we love him too much to ever do something like that to him. We’ve already established that illusion."

"You’re right. We’ll have to do it soon. I want him gone. I’m sick and tired of Dad looking down on us because of him. I can’t believe he’s planning to give him the empire and the entire business. What does he take us for? He even let him bring a fucking male lover into the family. When has he ever been accepting about something like that?"

Bryce’s fingers curled slowly against his palms.

So this wasn’t merely resentment.

They wanted Dave dead.

"What if we end little SJ, and dad decides to sign the business over to Angela?"

"He wouldn’t dare. And if he does, this time I might just end him instead."

Bryce’s stomach tightened

Kill their own father?

"What?"

"Yeah, what? Are you hesitating now? We already have blood on our hands, ones he made us kill, countless of them. How would his be any different? He doesn’t think we’re good enough, but apparently some kid is. What’s there to hesitate for?"

The casualness of the words shocked Bryce.

They were talking about murder as though it were nothing more than another business decision.

There was a brief silence, then one of the twins spoke again, his voice lower now, carrying a coldness that made Bryce’s skin prickle.

"What if the easiest way to finish Little Junior is to take away his second boyfriend?"

Bryce’s breathe stopped.

"I mean, he couldn’t get over that first bastard, and now he’s even more madly in love with this one. I bet he won’t be able to breathe with him gone."

Bryce’s heart seemed to stop before suddenly pounding against his ribs.

For several seconds, he remained completely motionless inside the elevator, staring at nothing as the meaning of those words settled over him.

He could barely believe what he was hearing.

"Is everything okay?" Larry asked when the elevator doors opened and Bryce remained where he was, completely frozen.

Bryce didn’t answer.

He stepped out mechanically and walked toward the residence, his thoughts still trapped in the conversation he had overheard.

The possibility of Dave being killed had drained the strength from his body. What frightened him most was the realization that Dave could have died that very day if his brothers’ plan had succeeded.

Bryce couldn’t make himself imagine it.

He should have felt relieved.

If Dave died, Bryce would finally be free. He had no intention of returning to the relationship, no matter how desperately Dave insisted that his feelings for him were genuine. Dave’s death would have removed the problem Bryce had been struggling to escape.

But the thought of him actually being dead brought no relief.

Whatever anger, resentment, and distrust he carried toward Dave, none of it translated into wanting him dead.

The fact that the people planning his death were his own brothers made it worse.

What was he supposed to do with what he knew?

Should he tell Dave immediately that his brothers were plotting against him even without evidence?

Either way, Bryce couldn’t keep silent.

He didn’t need evidence to warn Dave. Dave could investigate the matter himself.

As he approached the door, he slowed. He could hear Dave’s heartbeat from inside.

It was fast.

Far too fast.

Bryce’s uneasiness sharpened.

He reached for the door, hesitated for barely a second, then unlocked it and rushed inside.

The sight that greeted him stopped him cold.

Dave was sprawled carelessly across the couch, his upper body completely bare. His hair was disheveled, falling untidily across his forehead, while his eyes were red and swollen, the skin around them betraying the evidence of recent tears.

Empty bottles of alcohol were scattered across the room, some lying on their sides near his feet, others crowded around the couch.

Bryce stared at him.

What on earth had happened?

Had he already discovered what his brothers were planning?

Or was it something else?

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