Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 244

Chapter 244

Aiden

The meeting with Hale had unfolded far better than I dared to expect. By the time we exited his office, the contract was practically sealed, every detail aligning with what had been promised.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, a solid thread of certainty wove through my future. Once the season wrapped up, I’d face a choice—not necessarily the one I longed for, but at least a path forward.

Judging by the current circumstances, it was clear I’d be leaving the school. Initially, my instinct was to hunt for another program, but I knew deep down no university would touch me once the truth became public.

That’s where the Dominion entered the picture—my lifeline, my backup plan.

Yet, before any of that could materialize, I had a reputation to maintain.

A performance to deliver.

Backstage in the narrow corridor, Micah stood beside me, quiet but composed, his nerves expertly masked by the perfect posture he always adopted. The low hum of bass vibrated through the walls, and beyond the heavy curtain, the audience shifted restlessly, anticipation hanging thick in the air.

Hale approached, his smile sharp and precise beneath the glare of the stage lights. “Mr. A,” he murmured, stepping close enough that I caught the faint scent of smoke mingled with sandalwood on him. “Would you honor the audience tonight with a full suspension display? It would be… greatly appreciated.”

I hesitated for a moment. “I told my sub this would be more of a re-introduction to the stage, not a complicated act.”

“It’s alright, Sir. I think we could—”

My sharp look cut him off mid-sentence. “That will be two, including the one I never punished you for.”

Hale’s gaze flicked toward Micah, then back to me. “Perhaps we could weave that into the scene as well.”

Micah met my eyes—calm, steady—and gave the slightest nod, a silent agreement.

Very well.

I took a steadying breath and turned to him. “In that case, my boy, you may select our helper.”

His smile was quick and bright, the kind that once used to unravel me. “Master Hale, would you do us the honor of joining?”

Hale’s eyes sparkled unmistakably with delight. “It will be my pleasure.”

“Wise choice,” I murmured, brushing my fingers softly over Micah’s cheek before lowering my hand in a quiet gesture of dismissal. He understood immediately.

Hale stepped forward, and the lights shifted to a warm amber glow.

Leaning down one last time, I pressed a brief kiss to Micah’s temple and whispered, “Let’s give them a performance they won’t forget. Why don’t you go fetch the soft tarp we saw in the prop room? Remember?”

“I remember, Sir. Right away.”

The first sound cracked through the air—leather slicing through space, not yet meeting skin. The second followed, precise and measured, setting a pulse to the slow rhythm of the music. The flogger’s tails slid across his thighs before snapping against his chest. “Count for us, beautiful.”

He obeyed, his voice strained but steady as he balanced through the pain, counting each strike. Every motion became a dance, the flogger painting arcs of movement through the light, catching on the sheen of sweat that glistened on his skin.

It wasn’t merely punishment. It was performance.

Hale circled behind him, steadying the suspension lines, his eyes never leaving the scene—his interest burning like heat directed at both of us.

Micah’s breath grew shorter, muscles trembling with the effort to remain still, but his composure never faltered. Every controlled shiver, every taut exhale was a testament to the training, to the trust between us that once meant everything.

I stepped closer, ending the rhythm with a single touch to his back. Tears streamed down his face, his body trembling. My hand lingered just long enough to ground him. “That’s enough, my boy,” I whispered.

The audience erupted into applause as Hale and I began lowering him. The chains slid smoothly until his feet touched the tarp. Hale reached him first, steadying his arm while I released the final clasp.

Micah lifted his head, flushed and shining with effort, pride radiating from every line of his face.

I looked at him and saw everything I could never have—the devotion, the peace, the simple grace of being wanted without question.

And God, how I wished it were Noah.

But all I had was this moment—order, control, and a fleeting illusion of harmony in a world I was on the verge of shattering.