Page 3 of Endlessly Raphael
“Oh, Raphael,” Yves says softly, but instead of pity as I expected, it feels more like an understanding of sorts. “Dealing with aristocrats comes with many perils.”
“And you are not one of them? Buying my freedom and commanding the king’s guards as though you are royalty yourself?”
Yves chuckles, but Alessio looks far more serious. “Yves commands anyone he sees fit, and you should be grateful for your freedom.”
“But am I free? Would you open this carriage and allow me to walk away, or have I just traded one cell for another?”
Alessio scoffs. “You do know how to pick the fierce ones, don’t you?”
Yves chuckles. “It is a gift.” His gaze shifts to me, softening. “Do not worry, Raphael. You are no more a prisoner than I am. However, before you plot your escape from my clutches, you may want to hear what I have to offer you.”
“I’m listening.”
“I will tell you more when we arrive at my home.”
Fortunately, the wait is not long. The carriage stops in front of a lovely flat in the city center. The door opens and two men exit, looking on curiously. One is tall, with olive skin and thick black hair, his features strong and handsome. The other man is softer in appearance, with long blond hair and a sweet face.
“My family,” Yves says, as he steps out of the carriage, holding out his hand for me as though I am a lady of high standing.
Ignoring the hand, I climb down on my own, followed by a chuckling Alessio. Yves leads me to the door, and I enter when the other two men step to the side. I stop in the foyer, overwhelmed by the grandeur around me. While it’s not a palace, it certainly is luxurious. Who is Yves Orpheus?
“I’m Eros,” the blond one says. “You must be hungry. Thirsty?”
“Yes. Both.”
He smiles. “I’ll be right back.”
The others guide me to the sitting room, but I feel ashamed in my dirty and tattered clothing. “I don’t want to sit upon your nice furnishings.”
“I insist that you do,” Yves says, his tone both commanding and kind at the same time.
Reluctantly, I nod and take a seat on the edge of the settee. Yves, Alessio, and the dark-haired man who hasn’t spoken yet sit across from me.
“This is Leander,” Yves says, gesturing to the quiet man on his left. “We are family. Chosen, of course, and we would like to add you to our home.”
My brow crinkles, but before I can ask anything, Eros appears again, carrying a platter of breads, meats, and cheeses along with a tall glass of what appears to be wine. That was remarkably fast.
Ignoring any sort of decorum, I snatch up a roll and several pieces of meat and cheese, desperate to quell the gnawing hunger in my belly.
“What if I told you, Raphael, that starting today, you could choose a life where you would never be hungry again? Never cold, never dirty, and never forced to sell your body to survive?”
I scoff, chewing a mouthful of bread. “How?”
“By joining my family. I would take care of you and all your needs.”
I nod, finally understanding his motive. “I would be your lover?”
“I would hope so, yes, but it is not a requirement.”
“No? Then what do you get out of it if I decline?”
The four men exchange glances, and as Yves nods, I would swear they communicate without words.
“While I’m sure I would enjoy your presence in my bed,” Yves starts, “I want something far more precious than just your body.”
“I have nothing to offer except my body.”
“Ah, but you are wrong about that,” Alessio says.