Julian's breath hitched, a broken, wet sound that he couldn't suppress. He remained on his knees, head bowed, the silver chain of the amethyst necklace biting into the back of his neck as he trembled.
He felt the Emperor's thumb move again, tracing the wet, salt-stained curve of his lower lip with a terrifyingly slow deliberation until it felt like he could smear something over the corners of his mouth.
The wound on his lips had healed; if not, the Emperor would've found a way to tear into it until he bled again.
Aurelian stared down at him, his golden eyes darkening with a heavy, possessive heat. Then, he looked toward the massive oak doors of the Audience Hall, before looking back at the wreckage at his feet.
The mockery in his expression shifted into something far more dangerous.
"Well, I guess it would no longer be a savoring sight if everyone sees you like this," Aurelian murmured, his voice dropping into something dark.
