His Scent [StantonXAlaric]

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His Scent

[StantonXAlaric]

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"You're still here?"

I blinked past the burning in my eyes from staring at the same spreadsheets on my desk to see my brother, Raven, leaning against the doorframe to my office, a frown plastered on his otherwise pretty face. Of course, he'd probably kill me if he ever heard me call him pretty.

But he was pretty.

The very definition of tall, dark, and handsome with curly black hair he kept cropped short, his baby blues staring holes into my face, and his muscular build hugged tight in a pair of black jeans, a black turtleneck under a leather biker jacket, a pair of Harley Davidson shitkickers, and finishing off his outfit was a pair of black leather gloves that hid the damaged hands he was self-conscious of.

I glanced away from him to the clock on the computer screen sitting to my left, and I grimaced when I realized it was three in the morning... and I still wasn't done.

I reached up to pinch the bridge of my nose and rub my eyes as Raven came the rest of the way into my office. It wasn't a huge office, but it was big enough to get my job done. My job of overseeing all security detail in the palace as well as the realm itself, which was a huge step up from my last job... apparently, because I couldn't remember shite about it after I'd gone brain dead for a few hours.

"Alaric, this is the third night in a row I've come in here and seen you staring at those papers. Glaring at them won't make things better. You need to take a break and relax," Raven said, moving to sit gracefully into an ugly plush blue and white French designer chair Lucifer had gotten me when he first had the office installed in the palace. Not that I didn't appreciate my own workspace, I just really wished Lucifer liked more neutral colors. Nothing said "I'm gay as fuck" like a frilly blue and white chair that belonged in a Paris romance novel.

Then again, given my choice in attire...

Heat threatened to creep into my face, but I managed to stamp it down by rubbing at my face.

The only other person who knew about my underwear choice was Stanton, and it should stay that way. Only Stanton needed to know I had a fetish for lingerie, and I wasn't even sure why that was. Of all the things that followed me into this new life of mine, that was a constant. I couldn't help it, though. I'd tried switching to boxers, boxer-briefs, and just plain commando, but nothing felt better than having the soft lace and satin.

Christ, now I'm thinking about it.

I shifted in my seat, clearing my throat and turning back to the spreadsheets, pretending to fiddle with them in hopes Raven hadn't noticed my sudden fluster.

"I don't have time to relax. Atlan's already busted in here once and I won't let it happen again, Raven," I told him. The reminder was definitely a way to get myself somber. Thinking about it infuriated me, that Atlan and his troops had somehow gotten into Hell and destroyed the military base in Portius. Granted, everything had changed since then and the base had been completely rebuilt with high tech security that ranged from two layers of teleportation proof barriers, thirty feet tall walls lined with electrically charged barbed wire and several guard towers with machine weaponry poised and ready for any attacks. However, none of it was enough to settle the nerves churning and twisting beneath my skin.

It was my job to oversee the security of the realm. I'd even been called upon to advise Hades and Cerberus on the protection of Hades from time to time, and yet I had failed in that too. As time dragged on, I found myself wondering why I was even in this position. Everything I'd put into place, things that had made people feel safe, was torn down in just a single attack that took less than six hours.

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