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

The dream, or rather the nightmare, had left Bryce’s mind in turmoil- He knew that much.

And even after retreating into the cold shower in the hope that the shock of the water would force him fully awake, the images remained stubbornly vivid.

The chill did little to clear his mind; if anything, every detail seemed to linger with greater clarity.

Pregnant.

Running.

Giving birth.

Two men.

The angel.

The mysterious task she had called arduous, the meaning of which he didn’t get the chance to discover.

He wanted to dismiss the entire thing as nothing more than an absurd dream, the product of an exhausted mind piecing together meaningless fragments, but something about it refused to feel imaginary.

It had seemed far too vivid, as though he had witnessed something rather than dreamed it.

The one detail he could confidently dismiss was the pregnancy. That was impossible. And if that part of the dream was impossible, then perhaps the whole dream was equally meaningless.

Except the thought did not settle as easily as he wanted it to.

His mind drifted unwillingly to the changes he had been experiencing lately: the inexplicable exhaustion, the persistent nausea, the loss of his appetite for foods he once enjoyed, and the strange cravings for combinations that would ordinarily have made him lose his appetite altogether.

Then there were the heartbeats, the unsettling sensation that there seemed to be two rhythms intertwined within him, and Vincent’s remark from the night before, when he had said that if Bryce were a woman, he would have assumed he was carrying his child.

The memories collided inside his head, leaving his muscles suddenly weak.

"We’re really getting late. You’ll have to hurry up more. I need to win this project."

Vincent’s voice came through the bathroom door, pulling Bryce out of his thoughts.

"But that won’t happen if we arrive late and lose the chance to even present our work. Gemshine thinks it can outshine us. I want to show them today exactly who they’re dealing with."

’So Vincent was this invested in the project simply because he wanted to beat Gemshine?’

Bryce wondered as he finally stepped out of the bathroom.

"Of course, what other reason could there be? It certainly wasn’t about the money. He clearly possessed more wealth than he could reasonably spend in a lifetime.’

With a towel secured around his waist, Bryce emerged from the bathroom and found Vincent already prepared to leave, dressed impeccably in a black suit.

The moment he looked up from the tablet in his hands, his attention seemed to shift entirely to Bryce.

His fingers loosened around the device as his gaze moved over Bryce, raw desire flashing in his eyes.

"Get out."

Bryce’s voice was even, low but firm, but Vincent remained exactly where he was, apparently in no hurry to leave despite the obvious fact that Bryce needed to dress.

’Did he seriously expect him to change clothes while being watched?’ Bryce thought, irritated.

"We’re both men. What’s there to hide?" Vincent replied without a trace of shame. "Besides, we’ve seen each other before."

"Get out," Bryce repeated, more impatiently this time, though his voice remained controlled.

Vincent finally rose and headed toward the door.

"Five minutes should be enough."

With that, he stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

Bryce dried himself and reached for the body oil that had been left on the bed. He rarely used anything like it, but the pleasant fragrance immediately caught his attention, and judging from the packaging, it was obviously expensive.

Once he finished, he turned toward the bag on the bed that supposedly contained the clothes Vincent had bought for him. He opened it, reached inside, and immediately froze.

The first thing he pulled out was a pair of creamy briefs, unmistakably his size even before he checked the label.

His disbilief deepened when he uncovered the rest of the outfit.

The color and design were unfamiliar, something he would never have chosen for himself, much less considered wearing.

When Vincent had claimed he had arranged fresh professional clothes for the meeting, Bryce had imagined something straightforward, a conventional suit, perhaps a black jacket with a white shirt and matching pants.

Instead, he found an ivory-white ensemble that was considerably more elaborate.

The sharply tailored double-breasted jacket followed a sleek, structured cut, with a matching sash designed to wrap around the waist.

Beneath it was a soft cream turtleneck, paired with matching trousers that completed the monochromatic look.

A delicate silver chain and an elegant brooch added restrained touches of ornamentation to the otherwise immaculate outfit.

It was undeniably elegant, but Bryce stared at it with growing irritation.

He wasn’t wearing that.

The entire ensemble struck him as far too refined in a way that made him feel as though it would push his appearance toward something softer and more feminine, and that was precisely what he disliked about it.

What irritated him even more was the certainty that Vincent had chosen the design intentionally.

Without bothering to dress, he snatched the towel more securely around his waist and stormed out of the room.

He didn’t even know whether another room lay beyond the door or whether it opened directly onto the outside, but at that moment, he didn’t care.

After he opened the door, he realized that beyond the bedroom lay an enormous room that resembled an elegant living area, so spacious that Bryce stopped in his tracks for a moment. He looked around, momentarily bewildered by the sheer size of the place.

Had Vincent really secured an entire house simply for freshening up once?

Whatever.

That wasn’t important, and it certainly wasn’t something Bryce needed to concern himself with. Vincent could afford whatever he wanted; that was his business.

Bryce’s thoughts were interrupted when Vincent turned toward him. The moment his eyes landed on Bryce, disbelief swept across his face.

"You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re still not dressed?" he asked. "Should I just go alone?"

"Great idea actually, considering I already explained everything to you clearly about the design," Bryce replied.

Vincent studied him for a moment. "What’s the problem?"

"Why didn’t you just get me a suit like the one you’re wearing? I’m not wearing whatever that is you bought for me."

"What’s wrong with it?"

Bryce stared at him incredulously. "Have you actually seen it, or did you just tell whoever delivered it to bring whatever they could find?"

"Yes, I’ve seen it. I saw it in the picture, and I thought it would look good on you." Vincent’s expression remained remarkably composed. "They didn’t have your size for this one, so I chose something else."

"You’re lying."

The accusation escaped Bryce before he could stop himself.

He knew Vincent was lying. The certainty was unmistakable, particularly because Vincent didn’t even bother arguing with him. Instead, he simply moved on as though the accusation wasn’t worth addressing.

"Come on. Just put on the suit and let’s get this presentation over with. It’s not a dress, is it? I didn’t know you wouldn’t like it. I should have asked first, but we’re already late. If we aren’t there within fifteen minutes, there’s no point in going."

Bryce clenched his fingers, frustration tightening through his hands.

The project clearly mattered to Vincent, and he seemed determined to have Bryce accompany him, and Bryce knew he ought to appreciate the opportunity rather than do anything that might jeopardize it- After all, Adam had mentioned that the people who came up with the successful project would receive a substantial payment, and Bryce needed the money.

Losing that opportunity simply because he disliked the clothes would be ridiculous.

With a reluctant sigh, he turned around, returned to the bedroom, and dressed.

When he finally stood before the mirror, he had to admit that the outfit looked surprisingly good on him.

The ivory-white fabric complemented his appearance, while the structured cut gave him an elegant, refined air.

Although it made him look less conventionally handsome and more strikingly beautiful.

Perhaps that was exactly why he disliked them.

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