Chapter 185: A positive sign

Alaric hissed through his teeth, his muscles bulging as he forced his way into Julian, centimeter by agonizing centimeter.

He felt the chill of Julian’s inner walls trying to sap the fire from his blood, but he countered it, pushing his aura into his lower abdomen, making his own flesh feel like a branding iron.

Then, he buried himself deep, reaching the very end of Julian’s inside until there was no space left to occupy.

But even at this point, Julian didn’t wake up. His eyes remained shut, his lashes casting long, still shadows against his cheekbones.

But his body couldn’t ignore the intrusion. A long, thin breath escaped his lips—a sigh that carried the first hint of genuine warmth.

Alaric began to move. It was a heavy, deliberate grind, a friction designed to generate the maximum amount of heat. He leaned down, his chest crushing Julian’s, his arms wrapping around Julian’s back to pull him flush against his heartbeat.

With every thrust, Alaric felt the ’ice’ beginning to crack. The deep, internal frost was melting under the relentless assault of the Duke’s hot body and circulating aura.

Julian’s skin, once marble-white, began to show the faintest traces of a flush. A soft, bruised pink blossomed across his chest and neck.

Alaric’s pace quickened, and his thrusts became heavier, pointing into Julian with the aim of crushing the very ice that was pulling him under. He was breathing hard now, his lungs burning.

He felt the sweat from his own body soaking into Julian’s, feeling like a baptism of salt and heat.

He reached down, his hand finding Julian’s again, interlacing their fingers and pressing them into the mattress.

He felt Julian’s fingers twitch, and his body tremble. The heat was slowly spreading over Julian, and the faintest sound escaped his closed lips, sounding like a gulp.

"Mph..."

Alaric paused for a second and looked into Julian’s face. There was more than just a wrinkle on his brows now.

His face was slowly contorting, feeling the intense pressure of Alaric’s cock inside him, and the hot broad frame pressed against his own.

Even the dead might have no choice but to wake up when something this crazy was happening to them.

"That’s it," Alaric whispered, his voice a ragged thread as he watched the color slowly return to Julian’s face.

He began to move again, faster this time, as he watched every reaction on Julian’s face.

"Warm up. Feel it, Julian. Don’t go back to the dark." He pressed his lips on Julian’s, kissing him intensely.

The shivers had changed. They were no longer the jagged tremors of a dying man, but the rolling, fluid ripples of a body caught in the grasp of a forced pleasure.

Julian’s head tossed weakly from side to side, his mouth falling open, and his breathing came out ragged.

That was a very positive sign.

He was feeling the heat... he was accepting it.

"Ngh," Alaric grunted, feeling himself reach his limit.

He grabbed Julian’s dick and began to stroke it again, aiming to cum at the same time with him.

Then, he felt Julian clamp around him even more as his dick splurted out semen with no warning.

"Haah," Alaric pressed his head against Julian’s chest, his grip on Julian’s hip so hard he had bruised the pale skin. "I’m cumming, Julian. I’ll fill you with my warmth so you’re never cold,"

He shut his eyes and his shoulders trembled as he buried himself deep, shooting his seeds against Julian’s fragile walls.

Once he was done, his shoulders and his grip on Julian’s hip eased.

"Julian," he called, his voice soft and breathless.

Everything fell silent, and all Alaric could hear was the pounding heart vibrating through Julian’s chest. Even the aggressive hiss of the magical fire felt distant.

Alaric finally slumped forward, exhausted and drained, but he didn’t pull his cock out. He stayed buried within Julian, his head resting in the crook of his neck.

He simply stayed still, feeling the warmth slowly spreading from inside him, and listening to Julian’s heart thrum loudly, following the same rhythm as his.

He had been scared.

Scared that even this wouldn’t work and that Julian... He shut his eyes, thanking whatever gods out there who heard his silent prayer and were bringing Julian back to him.

At this point, he had no idea of the flickering status window above Julian’s head that was pulsing a shaky red.

> [HOST TEMPERATURE: 34.5°C ... STABILIZING]

> [STATUS: SOUL OCCUPANCY IMMINENT]

> [WARNING: SYSTEM TAKEOVER INITIATED BY ORIGINAL SOURCE IS STILL IN PROGRESS]

> [CURRENT OCCUPIER: JULIAN VON ASTREA]

Alaric finally pulled out, the sound of his cock sliding out of Julian was wet and slippery, echoing in the silence of the room.

He didn’t just sit there, but got down from the bed, immediately reaching for the remaining water in the bowl, which had cooled to a comfortable warmth.

Then, carefully, he began to clean Julian. He wiped away the sweat, the oil, and the evidence of their desperate union, watching with a soaring sense of relief as color continued to return to Julian’s skin.

Julian was still pale. Well, he was naturally pale, but it was no longer the translucent, terrifying white kind of corpse.

Alaric dressed him in a soft, thick silk robe, tying the sash loosely to keep the warmth trapped against his skin. Then, he tucked Julian back into the blanket, pressing a final, lingering kiss to his temple.

"Stay here," Alaric whispered. "I’m getting Kaelen to prepare the horse. We’re leaving this hell tonight."

He reluctantly left Julian’s side and stepped toward the door, his legs heavy with exhaustion but his heart lighter than it had been in a week.

Now that Julian was out of danger, he could rest with ease.

He opened the door and stepped into the corridor, where Sir Kaelen stood like a stone decoration, protecting them quietly.

"He’s warm now," Alaric said, his voice raspy, and though Kaelen didn’t really put his heart into the situation, he felt it was a relief.

If something had happened to the tutor, the Duke would’ve rained hell on the Palace, and all the nobles still gathered at the hall would see it to testify against him later.

"Prepare the horses," Alaric ordered. "I don’t care about what the Emperor has planned. We’re moving him now, and as soon as we get back, make preparations to leave for the North."