The panther’s green-eyed gaze locked on target. Him #MMRomance #GayDad #MFRWhooks

The panther's green-eyed gaze...

Like the rest of Pietas's ship, the stark white room held no courtiers. Luc's footsteps on the bare floor echoed. The walkway sloped downward toward a dais on which sat a simple wooden throne, its high back upholstered in turquoise. That throne and--missing today--the unmarked silver circlet Pietas wore on state occasions were his sole outward concessions to royalty.

That didn't mean he wouldn't remind you who was in charge.

Pietas fit Luc's memories of him.

The king sat sideways, one leg crooked over the throne's arm, swinging his foot like a boy playing.

The man never sat idly on a throne in an empty room. Pomp and circumstance meant nothing to him. Yes, Pietas went on and on about how his subjects must obey him, but that was all for show.

Results. Action. Change. Those were what mattered.

Which meant this farce was pure misdirection. The king wanted something and wasn't going to ask for it outright. So much more fun to finagle and manipulate. At least, for him.

Luc tamped down the anxiety riling his stomach. Whatever the man wanted, he'd get to it soon enough.

The massive black panther beside the throne watched the king's booted foot swing to and fro, until Luc halted a respectful distance away. Then the cat's focus narrowed, and the green-eyed gaze locked onto Luc.

Target acquired.

Luc made a shallow bow.

In private, Pietas would not allow him to offer more. "You're my equal," he'd say, making him rise. Yet neither of them ever forgot which was king.

"Tiklaus, look who's come to see us." Pietas unfolded his lean seven-foot frame, planted both feet on the floor and bent toward the panther. As always, his king wore pristine white, the only relief his knee-high black boots and multiple rings, bracelets and necklaces adorning his person. "It's Cyken. Our friend." He looked Luc's way.

Friend?

Pietas wanted something all right. Unless he did, he never invoked the F word.