Chapter Thirteen
Caspian closed his eyes as the wind pushed back his hair and roared in his ears. He plummeted from the dock toward the water, wrapped tightly in Bran’s arms. The sleeves of his t-shirt rustled, displaced by the air current. Then, suddenly, they were no longer falling—they soared instead.
On the ascent, Caspian opened his eyes. He saw sky and Bran and from the edge of his vision he detected the ocean stretched out. Water as far as the eye could see under a clear, bright sky.
Caspian wondered if it was the last time he’d ever see this place.
Bran leveled out and turned gracefully, still coasting on the currents. He beat his wings a few times to drive them higher, then glided the rest of the way to the cliff top. They came to a smooth stop several feet from the edge. Caspian planted his feet on solid ground.
The emotion that saturated the air and sparked across Caspian’s skin whenever he was near Bran had changed. The rush of excitement and the tender stirrings of affection were still there, but Caspian's uneasiness and shame marred the feelings.
Caspian knew that he loved Bran, but he had to love himself, too. Part of loving himself meant not doing things he didn’t want to do.
He didn’t want to leave Bran, but if Bran intended to treat him like a child, Caspian didn’t have a choice. He needed a partner who considered him an equal. Dirty talk, playing games, and letting Bran dominate in their sex life was one thing, but Caspian wanted the respect that came from equality outside of the bedroom.
Bran was a prince, and he came from another world. There were differences between them. If those differences proved too great to reconcile, then Caspian had no choice but to walk away, no matter how much it broke his heart.
“You can still change your mind.” Bran's voice sounded calm, but there was a note of desperation in his words. “We can still turn around, hatchling.”
They had reached the end of the journey. These woods were undoubtedly of Caspian's world. He could see Dr. Kilpatrick's house through the trees.
Caspian wanted to give in, badly. Would it be all that awful, to warm Bran’s bed and be compliant and docile? Would it make him any less of a man?
No. He needed to stay strong. “I have a job back to do in my world. I can't just abandon it and let people down. I am looking after the house I’m staying in—it doesn’t belong to me. Until the owner comes back and takes over from me, I’m bound to that place just like you’re bound to this dimension.”
He hoped that if he put it in terms Bran had previously used, he’d be able to understand.
“And after, will you have your decision?” Bran asked. They stepped beneath the great tree and appeared in the forest. “Will you come back to me?”
“I…” Caspian trailed off.
Bran squeezed his hand.
Caspian was too ashamed to squeeze it back. He’d betrayed a prince. He’d promised himself to Bran, only to deny him. Caspian was guilty of causing hurt. Bran expected one thing of him, and he’d come around to do another.
“I will be waiting,” Bran said heavily. The majestic raven prince looked stood strong. But his eyes showed the great pain he felt. “I will be waiting here for you, for your decision, even if it’s a no.”
“I…” Caspian sucked in a breath. “I don’t know when that will be. You have a kingdom to look after. It’s probably best you don’t wait. I’ll come back through the dimensions to find you.”
“You’ll get lost,” Bran warned. “Or the guardian will notice and refuse you entrance. I will wait.” The devotion in his voice was heartbreaking.
Caspian stared at his shoes, torn. It felt as if it were the last chance to change his mind. It wasn’t too late to make the walk back to Bran's world. Bran was still eager to take him back. He could be pampered and loved in a palace by the sea. But that wasn’t what he wanted. Not really. Caspian needed a partnership. He needed to feel valued and important. Being a pleasure pet was fine for some, but he needed more.
He needed time.
“I guess this is goodbye, then,” Caspian said. He tried not to let sorrow show in his voice, but he failed.
“I guess it is.” Bran squeezed his hand. Caspian squeezed back. “You know where to find me, hatchling. My soul is yours forever.”
Forever. It had sounded so flippant when Bran had first asked and warned him what their lovemaking would mean. Now, it sounded very real. Solid, like the ground he stood upon.
“I’m sorry for the hassle this caused,” Caspian said. “You had a whole ceremony. I’m sure your people didn’t expect me to go.”
“Neither did I,” Bran admitted. His voice didn’t hide the heartbroken sorrow. “But we will rise above. When times get tough, we soar.”
“It’s not forever.”
“Only for now.” A tear rolled down Bran's cheek. He ignored it. “We will talk again soon and come to a conclusion. I am sure of it.”
Their fingers unlaced. Caspian took his first few steps out of the forest. When he turned to look back at Bran, Bran had already disappeared. A single black feather twisted through the air, spiraling to the ground. Caspian caught it before it fell. His fingers tightened on the shaft.
He’d made his choice—now he had to live with it.
His feet felt as if they were in shoes made of lead as he trudged the short distance to the house.
His heart felt just as heavy.
By the time he reached the door, tears were cascading down his face, and he began to sob.
Inside, Caspian set the feather in a clear glass. He placed it on a coaster on the coffee table.
Over the next few weeks, he spent an inordinate amount of time staring at it. In a particular light, the feather’s black turned a charming blue-green that reminded Caspian of Bran.
The purple-green shimmer in Caspian’s hair didn’t wash away. Every time he saw it in the mirror, it stayed as a reminder of what he’d walked away from.
Caspian felt miserable.
He got through the days and weeks in a daze. Existing and functioning but not exactly living. He didn't venture into the forest. He only went outdoors when he had to. Riding the lawn mower barely raised a smile, and only because he thought Bran might enjoy it. And then he thought of flying, and that sent him right back into thinking about the life they might have together.
Damn it.
They needed to date.
To see each other.
How could Caspian make such a momentous decision without getting to know more of what his life with the prince might entail?
He went back to existing.
Mow the grass? Done.
Now, he’d find a book to pass the time. Something big and meaty, like War and Peace. Conveniently, he didn't need to download it; he already had Leo Tolstoy's Russian classic on his ereading device, and he also found it on Dr. Kilpatrick's bookcase. He'd flip between eReader and print.
Weeks later, as he played with his phone searching for something very light and easy to read, possibly one written with middle schoolers in mind, Caspian accidentally closed the internet browser and hit on his contacts list. How? He wasn't sure.
The contacts list reminded him of all the people he should have contacted but hadn't.
He scrolled down it without purpose. He’d been toying with the idea of calling his parents, but he hated talking to his mom when he felt down. He couldn’t hide anything from her but didn’t want to share details of his love life at the best of times. And certainly, he couldn’t tell her about this.
He brushed his finger down over the screen, liking the way the names rolled in front of him as it whizzed back to the top of the list.
At the top of the list, above Alison, was Alex in Beaumont.
Alex’s phone number.
Alex had made it clear that he knew something about the forest, and he’d hinted about visiting dimensions, too. Even if he hadn’t been to the raven's world, Alex seemed open-minded enough to let him rattle on about what had happened. He was Caspian’s best bet at reaching a conclusion about Bran.
Caspian dialed the number. Alex answered almost right away. “Hey? Who’s this?”
“It’s Caspian. The guy you met at West Point. You bought me a drink. Perhaps you frequently buy strangers lattes in cafes?”
“Of course, different day, different stranger. Always the Chai latte. It gets them every time. I remember you, Caspian. It's been a long time; I thought you weren’t going to call.” Alex sounded as bright and cheerful as he had before. “Are you still in Dr. Kilpatrick’s house?”
“Yes. For a little while longer,” Caspian admitted.
The return of Dr. Kilpatrick had started to loom. He’d called to give Caspian the details of his flight, which gave the problem a greater sense of urgency.
“But I need someone to talk to, if you’re around.”
“I’m always around,” Alex teased. “What’s your schedule like tomorrow? I’ll be visiting West Point again, around eleven.”
What about now?
“Eleven works.” Caspian didn’t have anything else going on. He fanned his toes and bent them, trying to distract himself from the situation. “I’ll buy your cappuccino this time around.”
Alex scoffed. “Nah, don’t worry about it. You don’t owe me anything.”
“You might not agree after we talk tomorrow,” Caspian said. “I have something to get off my chest.”
“Getting things off attractive men is one of my favorite things to do,” Alex mused. “You owe me nothing.”
It was a joke—at least, Caspian was pretty sure it was—but he didn’t laugh.
“I haven't forgotten you are in a relationship, don't worry,” Alex said. “Well, no matter how serious it is, we’ll get it all sorted out. I think tomorrow you’ll have a lot more insight into what’s going on. I’m pretty sure you calling right now is fate. Tomorrow’s going to be interesting.”
Fate. Another mention of fate. Caspian frowned. “What do you know?”
“I know a little bit of everything, and a whole lot of nothing,” Alex replied cryptically. “And I definitely know enough to know I don’t know anything at all.”
Well, that was frustrating. Alex seemed to talk in riddles half the time. Caspian scrunched his nose but didn’t argue. He had a feeling that getting anything out of Alex was going to take a monumental effort. He’d reserve that for when they were face to face.
“So, meet me tomorrow at eleven inside West Point. I’ll be the pretty blond by the windows with the Chai latte.”
“I’ll be there,” Caspian said. “Thank you.”
“Oh, don’t thank me.” Alex laughed. “At least, not until tomorrow’s over. I have a spectacularly bad habit of putting my foot in my mouth sometimes. You might not like what you hear.”
At this point, as stuck and divided as he felt, Caspian wasn’t sure that would be an issue.