Chapter Fourteen
Mikhyal stood on top of the highest tower of Wytch King Altivair’s palace at Ravenfell, surveying the snow-covered countryside. The palace itself was located on a hilltop. At the bottom of the hill, the city spread out in a rough circle, beyond which lay farm fields and orchards.
“It all looks very peaceful, doesn’t it?” Dirit hopped down from his shoulder to perch on the low wall surrounding the top of the tower. “Hard to believe a great battle was fought here just this morning.”
“It was hardly a great battle,” Mikhyal protested.
“History will make it so.” Dirit’s eyebrow tufts twitched with amusement. “They’ll call it The Battle of Ravenfell or something equally unimaginative.”
“The Surrender of Wytch King Delrinian would be more accurate,” Mikhyal said drily, “though I suppose that’s not nearly as exciting.” In truth, the battle had lasted exactly as long as it had taken for the newly crowned Wytch King of Ysdrach to look up at the dragon-filled sky, piss his breeches, and order his men to run up the white flag.
“Mik.” Shaine’s voice came from behind him. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Garrik says it’s time to fetch Tristin. Is there anything you want me to tell him?”
The cold lump that had been settled in Mikhyal’s belly for the past few hours began to heat up as he turned from the view to face his brother. “No, you’d better just bring him here and I’ll do my best to explain things before the ceremony.” It had been Mikhyal’s decision to refrain from telling Tristin exactly why he needed to make an appearance at the palace at Ravenfell. Mikhyal only hoped his husband wouldn’t be too angry with him when he found out.
Shaine gave him a wry grin. “Glad I won’t be sleeping in your bed tonight.”
“I can give you a full report,” Dirit said, teeth gleaming in a wicked grin. “Assuming you can procure some of Mistress Alys’s pastries for me, that is.”
Shaine snorted, and before Mikhyal could think of a suitable retort, he’d Jumped, leaving Mikhyal and Dirit alone.
Dirit hopped back up onto Mikhyal’s shoulder. “I, for one, shall be watching with breath most bated.”
“I should have told him.”
“He wouldn’t have come if you had.”
“True.” Mikhyal rubbed his face with his hands, trying not to think too hard about what Tristin’s reaction was going to be.
It took somewhat longer than he expected for Shaine to reappear with Tristin in tow. Tristin was dressed formally, as Mikhyal had requested in the message he’d sent an hour earlier, but he did not look at all happy at being summoned.
“Thank you, Shaine,” Mikhyal said. “Tell Garrik we’ll be down as soon as…” he glanced at Tristin, and finished weakly, “as soon as we’re finished here.”
Shaine arched an eyebrow. “I’m sure he’ll understand. Good luck.” And with that, he was gone again.
Tristin eyed Mikhyal suspiciously. “Your message was most cryptic.”
“Ai,” Mikhyal said. “It was meant to be. I didn’t want you panicking and bolting for the hills.”
“I, ah, I am panicking. Now, that is. Very much panicking.” Tristin’s face had gone very pale. “Um. Might I inquire as to what it is I’m panicking about?”
Mikhyal stared out at the city and took a moment to steel himself before facing his husband. “I… there’s not really an easy way to tell you this. Believe me, I’d have preferred more time, but Garrik says things must be settled today or we risk unrest and rebellion.”
“Tell me what?”
“Early this morning, your cousin, Wytch King Delrinian, surrendered without a fight or an heir.”
“I am aware,” Tristin said drily.
“Which… leaves the throne somewhat… empty.”
Tristin’s eyes narrowed.
“And… well,” Mikhyal forged on, “we need to put someone on it. Someone who’s acceptable to both the people of Ysdrach and the leaders of the Northern Alliance. As Altivair’s nephew and Delrinian’s cousin, you’re actually next in the line of succession, even if you weren’t ever officially recognized, and since Garrik legitimized you, we thought—”
“No.” As Mikhyal had explained, Tristin’s expression had gradually changed from wariness to horror. “Absolutely not. Find someone else.”
“There isn’t anyone else,” Mikhyal said gently.
“Garrik is insane if he thinks I can do this. Insane. There is no way—”
“It won’t be for long.” Mikhyal cut him off before he could work himself into a frenzy. “Just until things settle down. If Delrinian proves cooperative and loyal to the Northern Alliance, you’ll step aside for him, eventually.”
“And until then?” Tristin demanded. “Not all of us were trained to rule, you know. Some of us were embarrassments, and spent our lives hidden away, everyone pretending we didn’t exist. Especially those of us who carried on conversations with their hallucinations.”
“Garrik’s well aware of that. You’ll have a team of advisors working with you. All you’ll have to do is make appearances and say what they tell you to say.”
Tristin turned away and went to stand at the wall, staring out over the countryside. After a long silence, he said softly, “You realize that is exactly what Altivair wanted me to do in Altan?”
“I…” Truth be told, there had been little time to think since Delrinian’s surrender, and Mikhyal hadn’t actually made that connection.
“You want me to be a puppet king. Like he did.”
“No, not like he did,” Mikhyal protested. “Altivair would have used Altan to stage an attack on Irilan. All we’re asking you to do is sit on the throne to help keep the peace.”
“While you and Garrik use Ysdrach to attack the rest of the southern kingdoms. I fail to see the difference.” Tristin sighed heavily. “You couldn’t have warned me?”
Mikhyal joined him at the wall. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come if I did.”
“You were right.” Tristin didn’t look at him.
“We wouldn’t be asking you if it wasn’t terribly important.” Mikhyal placed a hand over Tristin’s, and counted it a good sign that Tristin only stiffened, but didn’t pull away. “Garrik wants to march on Askarra quickly. Before the Wytch Council has a chance to recover. He can’t do that if Ysdrach rises up in arms. You could do a lot to smooth the way for us.”
Tristin’s shoulders slumped. “I owe Garrik everything I have.”
“He’s said nothing of any kind of debt. He only said to explain the situation to you and ask if you’d be willing.”
“Would it… would it save lives?”
“Without a doubt,” Mikhyal said. “If Garrik installs anyone else on the throne, the army might well rebel, regardless of what orders Delrinian gives them.”
Another long silence stretched between them before Tristin said gloomily, “Very well. I shall hate every moment of it, but if it will help…”
“It may well prevent a civil war here in Ysdrach.”
“Right.” Tristin squared his shoulders and gave him a resolute nod. “Where’s this ceremony, then?”
* * *
Vorri stared down at the silverware in consternation. Four forks were lined up beside his plate, along with three spoons of varying size and shape, three different kinds of knives, and several implements he’d never seen before. This was his first time having dinner with Shaine’s family in the formal family dining room at Castle Rhivana, and he was finding it rather intimidating, even though it was only himself, Shaine, Mikhyal, and Wytch King Drannik.
Shaine nudged him and sent a warm wave of affection and reassurance through the pack-sense. “It’ll be all right. The servants always set things up all formal like this. Mother rarely eats with us, but she still runs the household. None of us pay much attention. It won’t matter if you use the same fork all through the meal. Father and Mikhyal do. It only really matters if we’re eating with the Court, but as I’m not the heir and you’re not royalty, that’s not likely to happen.”
Across the table, Mikhyal winked as he gathered up all the extraneous silverware from around his plate and set it in a pile in the center of the table.
Drannik’s dark eyes twinkled with amusement as he watched Mikhyal, and after only a moment, followed suit. Once he’d cleared away most of his silverware, he turned to Shaine. “How was your day, Shaine?”
“Busy,” Shaine said with a groan. “Vorri and I have spent the last two days training the shifters who volunteered as messengers. We’ve had to familiarize them with all the Jumping points set up in the castles and forts, and then introduce them to the people they’re supposed to report to. It’s a lot for them to learn; Garrik’s set up quite the network.”
“Ai, we saw at least three different messengers at Ravenfell today,” Mikhyal said.
Drannik took a forkful of roasted vegetables. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much of an advantage this is going to be to us.”
“Everyone seems happy with the arrangement,” Vorri said, still studying the silverware. “Even my grandfather seems to be coming around. At least, he hasn’t been snapping at Da quite so much. I think he was afraid you were planning to draft the entire village into the army. He was quite surprised when Da told him you weren’t going to force anyone, but the army and the messenger service would welcome any volunteers.”
“I was surprised at how many of your folk did volunteer,” Mikhyal said. “Both for the army and for the communications network.”
“They’re extremely grateful to Rhiva for welcoming us back.” Vorri chose the smallest fork with the least ornamentation, and tasted the potatoes. They were creamy and buttery, good enough that he forgot his nervousness and tucked in.
“How’s Tristin doing, Mik?” Shaine asked.
Vorri raised his eyes from his plate in time to see Mikhyal’s grim smile. “He’s alternately furious with me and clinging to me. He’s having dinner with his advisors tonight, and I told him he needed to go by himself, without me at his side. He was… displeased.”
Dirit materialized on Mikhyal’s shoulder. “Displeased would be an understatement of the worst kind,” the little dragon said, mincing down Mikhyal’s arm to sniff the food on his plate. “I shall be most surprised if His Most Royal Disgracedness is allowed anywhere near Wytch King Tristin’s bed.”
“Ai, Dirit’s got the right of it. I’ll be lucky if I’m even allowed into the bedroom tonight, I fear.”
“Give him some time,” Drannik advised. “It’s only been a few days.”
“A few days that have felt like years,” Mikhyal said sorrowfully. “Tristin hates the situation we’ve put him in, and I’m doing all I can to support him, but I simply cannot be in two places at once. At least with the messengers popping back and forth, I can check in on him throughout the day. He’d hate me even more if I’d just deserted him there.”
“Do you have someone to take you back tonight?” Vorri asked.
“No, not yet. I thought I’d see if any of the messengers were available when we’ve finished dinner.”
“I can take you,” Vorri said, glancing at Shaine.
“You’re heading to Ravenfell?” Mikhyal asked.
“No, Dragonwatch. Vayne says he’s ready to try restoring Kavarr’s ability to shift tomorrow. I… Kavarr doesn’t say much, but I feel him in the pack-sense. He’s anxious. And afraid. And if I know my brother, he won’t sleep a wink tonight. I thought I’d sit with him, keep him company.” He gave Shaine an apologetic little smile. “It’s just for tonight. It’s been so long since I’ve spent any time with him, and it feels like he needs someone. I’d like to be there for him.”
“Of course you should be with him,” Shaine said. “He’s your brother. I’d be at Mik’s side in a heartbeat, if he needed me.”
“And I’d be at yours,” Mikhyal said, smiling. “Thank you, Vorri. If it’s no trouble, I’ll take you up on that.”
“No trouble at all,” Vorri said shyly.
After dinner, Mikhyal and Vorri took their leave. Vorri Jumped Mikhyal straight to the royal suite, where Wytch King Tristin awaited him. Tristin looked sour and surly, and Vorri didn’t wait around to hear the tongue-lashing Mikhyal was certain to get. He Jumped to Dragonwatch, arriving in the moonlight-drenched courtyard.
Kavarr was curled up next to one of the stone benches near the main entrance. Sitting on the bench beside him, hand on his head, fingers tangled in his fur, was Alys, head of Dragonwatch’s kitchen.
If she was surprised by Vorri’s sudden appearance, it didn’t show on her face. “Good evening, Vorri. I was just keeping Kavarr company, but now that you’re here, I’ll be off to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow, Kavarr. Try to get some sleep.”
Kavarr bobbed his great head in agreement, but from the unease vibrating through the pack-sense, Shaine doubted his brother would be sleeping tonight.
When Alys had gone in, Vorri took her place on the bench. “How are you holding up?”
<Well enough.> Kavarr rested his chin on Vorri’s leg and stared up at him with mournful eyes. <No. Not well enough. There is no point in pretending, not when you can feel how jumpy I am.>
“One of the disadvantages of the pack-sense,” Vorri said wryly. “It’s not so easy to play the stoic hero when you’re quivering inside and everyone knows it. What’s worrying you the most?”
<Vayne says that while he’s certain he can restore my human form to me, there is a slight chance that my ability to shift could be destroyed, as could my ability to access the pack-sense.>
“Oh…” Vorri shivered, not wanting to think about never feeling his brother’s presence again. “That’s… how much of a chance?”
<Enough to make me question what is most important: being human or being pack.> A cool ripple of fear whispered through the pack-sense.
Used to his brother being strong and confident to the point of arrogance, Vorri found Kavarr’s fear somewhat unsettling. “But you’re going to do it anyway.”
<I must. For my own sanity. It is only a small chance, after all. Most likely, all will be well.>
Not sure what to say, Vorri stroked his brother’s head, paying particular attention to his ears.
Kavarr sighed and closed his eyes. <Only another rhyx shifter knows just how to scratch ears.>
“Alys seemed to be doing a good job,” Vorri commented, thinking to take his brother’s mind off of tomorrow.
<She tried,> Kavarr said. <She is sweet. And she’s been very kind. She helped me pass the time today. Vayne spent hours staring at me in preparation for the procedure.>
“Can she speak to you in the pack-sense?” Vorri hadn’t sensed anything from Alys to indicate that she had any presence in the pack-sense, or even any awareness of it, though if she, like Shaine, had ancestors who had been in Lethrian’s shifter army…
<No, she cannot, but she’s very intuitive. She said she was planning a special meal to welcome me back to human form, and quizzed me until she managed to guess all my favorite foods.> Kavarr’s amusement drifted through the pack-sense. <A tail-thump for yes and a disgusted wrinkling of the nose for no.>
“That must have taken a while.” Vorri made a mental note to thank her for keeping Kavarr occupied. “Will Ma and Da be here tomorrow?”
<Ai, and Savra. I don’t expect Grandfather, though. I don’t think he’s forgiven me for what I said when I took Shaine before the council of elders.>
“I saw him this morning,” Vorri said. “They’ve put him in charge of organizing the move from the valley while Da’s busy in meetings with the Wytch Kings.”
<That’s good. He needs something to keep him occupied.>
“He’ll come around, Kavarr.”
<I hope so. Though we hunters have disagreed with the council for a long time, it was always quietly. It is… uncomfortable, being so openly at odds with him.>
They fell into a companionable silence, but Vorri sensed his brother’s growing tension, and sought to ease it. “Shall we go for a run in the woods? It might take your mind off of things, help you relax a bit.”
Kavarr turned to study his brother, eyes of glacial ice glinting in the moonlight. <I would like that.>
Vorri rose and stripped. The air was icy on his bare skin, and he quickly shifted into rhyx form and bounded to the edge of the courtyard. <Shall we?>
Kavarr rose and followed him, and together, the brothers leapt over the low wall surrounding the courtyard and bounded down the moonlit slope toward the forest.
* * *
Vorri paced the main room of Vayne’s transformation suite, eyes fixed on the bedroom door. Behind that door, Vayne and Ambris were working to restore Kavarr’s ability to shift into human form.
The rest of the family — Ma, Da, and Savra — had all gone to the dining room for lunch, but Vorri wasn’t hungry, and had chosen to stay close at hand in case anything went wrong.
He couldn’t feel Kavarr at all in the pack-sense, which was worrying, though Vayne had said that might happen while the work was being done, and not to worry if it did.
Vorri tried not to worry, but he couldn’t help but remember what Kavarr had told him last night, about the possibility of him losing the pack-sense and his rhyx form entirely. Vorri wasn’t sure if he’d be willing to take such a risk, but then he hadn’t been trapped in his rhyx form for the past ten years.
As he passed the couch on his next restless circuit of the room, he considered curling up for a nap, but quickly discarded the idea. Tired as he was — he and Kavarr had spent most of the night exploring the forests around Castle Altan — he was too wound up to sleep. With another longing glance at the bedroom door, he moved to the window and stared down the snowy mountain at the castle.
A warm, familiar presence in the pack-sense told him Shaine had arrived, and a moment later, Shaine’s voice said, “Are you all right?”
Vorri didn’t turn from the window. “I thought you were running messages for Mikhyal and your father.”
“I was, but they’ve enough messengers for now. I asked Mik if I might come and keep you company. He gave me the rest of the day off.” Shaine’s arms went around him to pull Vorri back his chest. “You never did come to bed last night.”
“No, I didn’t. Sorry.” Vorri leaned his head back on Shaine’s shoulder and let his eyes drift shut. “I was up with Kavarr all night.”
Shaine’s arms tightened around him. “He’ll be all right.”
“Will he? Vayne sounded quite confident, but he’s never done anything like this before. He’d never even seen a rhyx shifter’s mythe-shadow until he met me.”
“He’s had Lethrian’s notes to help him,” Shaine said. “He did a fine job with me, and that was complete improvisation. He had no idea he was going to find rhyx shifter patterns buried in my mythe-shadow. Kavarr is in good hands with Vayne. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
“I don’t think I could bear losing him,” Vorri said softly, voicing the fear that had been riding him ever since Kavarr had pressed his head against Vorri’s chest in a silent farewell and walked through the bedroom door. “Not when I’ve only just found him again.”
Before Shaine could respond, the suite’s main door opened. Vorri turned to see his father and the rest of the family walking in. He quickly disentangled himself from Shaine, but not before Svirrin got a good look at the two of them.
“Ah. That’s the way of it, is it?” he said gruffly. “I’d wondered.”
“It is, indeed,” Ma said, smiling at Vorri. “And I think they make a lovely pair.”
“Sorry, Da,” Vorri said quickly. “I… should have said. I…” His cheeks heated as he glanced at Shaine and then back at his father. “I wasn’t sure if… if anything would come of it, so I didn’t…” The truth was, he and Shaine had never actually spoken about whatever it was between them. Vorri knew how he felt; he liked Shaine a lot. The pack-sense told him Shaine liked him, too, though it gave him no sense of whether Shaine simply enjoyed Vorri sharing his bed, or if it was more than that. Nor did he have any idea if Shaine was free to form anything other than the most casual relationship. Shaine was a prince, after all, and depending on the outcome of the Northern Alliance’s assault on the city of Askarra, the Wytch Council’s seat of power, he might well be needed in future to form an alliance marriage to help keep the peace.
“Hmph. Well. As you will.” Svirrin looked almost amused, but sobered quickly as his gaze drifted toward the bedroom door. “Is there any word on Kavarr?”
“Not yet,” Vorri said. “Have you heard anything from Ravenfell?”
“Only that things are more peaceful than I’d have suspected, considering they’ve just been invaded,” Svirrin said. “I think the sight of the dragons was enough to make the populace think twice about protesting. The dragons have been touring the villages, along with soldiers on dragonback, announcing the new Wytch King.”
“A subtle show of force,” Shaine said with a wry grin. “Sounds just like something Garrik would do.”
“It’s been remarkably effective,” Svirrin said, winking.
A loud crash from the bedroom had all of them turning to look, and Vorri suddenly realized that Kavarr was there in the pack-sense, just as he’d always been. A moment later, the bedroom door flew open and a slender, black-haired man walked out supported by Vayne.
It took Vorri a moment to realize he was looking at Kavarr. His brother was dressed in clothing Vorri had supplied from his own things — breeches and a shirt that were a bit big on Vorri — in the hope that they’d fit his larger brother. To his surprise, Kavarr was positively drowning in them. Kavarr’s rhyx form might be huge and formidable, but his brother’s human form was… far smaller than Vorri remembered.
Svirrin was the first to move, crossing the room quickly to stand on Kavarr’s other side.
“I told you to get your balance first,” Vayne admonished.
“It worked!” Kavarr’s excitement and relief rang through the pack-sense. “Aio’s teeth and tail, it worked! And I can still shift! Not that I want to anytime soon. It feels too good to be me again. I’d forgotten how sensitive human skin is.” He wrinkled his nose. “And how dull our sense of smell is.”
Ma had tears in her eyes as she embraced Kavarr. When she finally let him go, Savra padded forward to bump her head affectionately against her brother’s chest.
<You’re smaller than I remember,> she told him.
Kavarr laughed. “We’ll see who is smaller when you’re restored, little sister.” He glanced about the room, eyes lighting on Vorri. “Vorri.” Leaving Vayne behind, Kavarr moved toward him slowly but steadily.
Vorri towered over his older brother. With a grin, he pulled Kavarr into a hug, taking care to be gentle. Kavarr hugged him back hard. “Gods, you’ve grown,” he said, eyes traveling over Vorri. “I didn’t realize how much.”
Vorri laughed. “Well, I was only fifteen the last time I saw you in human form.”
“It’s very good to see you looking as you should, Kavarr,” Svirrin said. He turned to Vayne. “Does this mean you can help the others?”
Vayne nodded. “Ai, I can. In fact, after Ambris and I have had some lunch, we can work on Savra, if she is ready. The first one is always the hardest, but now I know what to do, it shouldn’t take nearly as long.”
Savra nodded eagerly. <I am ready. Tell him I’m ready, Vorri.>
“She’s most definitely ready,” Vorri translated.
“Excellent,” Vayne said with a smile. “We’ll work on you this afternoon, Savra, and tomorrow we can begin on the rest of the hunters.”
* * *
Shaine leaned back against the wall of Rinwyck’s town hall and watched the dancers swirl about the large, open space. Vorri’s parents went by, Ava laughing, her brightly colored skirts flaring around Svirrin as he spun her in his arms.
Laughter and music filled the hall. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the welcome celebration Shaine and Vorri had been tasked with arranging. All the folk of the valley who weren’t involved in the war effort had worked hard this past week, moving themselves and their possessions into the empty village Drannik had deeded them.
As he scanned the crowd, Shaine’s heart felt lighter than it had in a long time. He spotted Vorri edging around the dancers, slowly making his way toward him, two cups in hand. “Spiced wine,” Vorri said, handing Shaine a cup. “It’s good.”
Shaine took a sip, savoring the sweet, spicy flavor that reminded him of the midwinter celebrations at Castle Rhivana. Vorri leaned against the wall next to him, his hip brushing Shaine’s as he stared out at the dancers. Kavarr and Alys went by, and Vorri smiled, watching them. They were both laughing, Alys’s dark eyes sparkling with mirth at something Kavarr had said.
“Kavarr and Alys look good together,” Shaine said.
“They do,” Vorri agreed. “Kavarr insists they’re just friends, but the way they look at each other… I hope for his sake something comes of it. He deserves some happiness. The last ten years haven’t been easy for him. Or any of them.”
“Where’s Savra? I don’t see her anywhere.”
Vorri grinned. “I don’t think we’ll be seeing much of her tonight. She and her betrothed have spent every spare hour together since her transformation. After the storm left her trapped in rhyx form and killed all the mythe-weavers who might have been able to help, she told him not to wait for her. But he did. He came to her the evening after her transformation and asked her to marry him.”
“That’s sweet,” Shaine said, smiling as he remembered the family’s laughter when Savra had regained her human form and triumphantly announced that she was, indeed, a finger’s width taller than Kavarr. “I haven’t seen any of the other hunters here, except for Kavarr. Not the ones we rescued, at least.”
“They wouldn’t come,” Vorri said softly. “Too many bad memories. The only reason this village was available for our folk to move into was because the hunters killed everyone in it. Da says he’s spoken to your father about it, and as soon as winter’s over, they’ll be breaking ground for a new village, one without such a bloody history. Kavarr only came because he’s the new leader of the hunt, and Da wanted him to make an appearance.”
“I thought he was already the hunt leader,” Shaine said, frowning as he realized he still had a lot to learn about the pack’s hierarchy.
“He was the leader of the hunters who were trapped in rhyx form,” Vorri explained, “but when Da took Grandfather’s place as pack leader, someone had to take Da’s place as leader of the hunt. The hunters chose Kavarr.”
“They won’t be doing much hunting anymore,” Shaine murmured. “Unless it’s for Wytch Masters. Do you think your folk will be happy in Rhiva?”
“I think it will take some getting used to,” Vorri said. “We’ve been isolated for so long. Grandfather was still griping about it until three days ago. Then he changed his tune.”
“What happened three days ago?”
Vorri grimaced. “There was a terrible blizzard in the valley. Half the livestock died before they could be moved here, and I think he finally realized that the valley isn’t going to be habitable for much longer. He admitted to Da yesterday that Da and Kavarr had done the right thing, and wished him luck as the pack leader.”
“I’m glad for you,” Shaine said. “It’s horrible when your family is at odds.”
“It makes the celebration that much sweeter. I mean, I know there’s a war on, and tomorrow we all go back to work, but I haven’t seen Da look this happy in years. Not since before the mythe-storm damaged the shield and trapped Kavarr and Savra and the others.”
Shaine finished his wine and set their cups on a nearby table, then turned to Vorri and bowed. “Would you like to dance?”
“Ai,” Vorri said with a wicked glint in his eye, “but the kind of dance I have in mind requires a bit more privacy than we have here.”
“Oh?” Heat flared through Shaine at the thought. There hadn’t been much in the way of privacy since Wolfgard. Events had moved so quickly, a few stolen kisses was all they’d had the time and energy for.
“Ma and Da and some of the others have been busy making a special gift for me. Would you like to see it?”
“Gift? I don’t—”
Vorri silenced him with a finger over his lips. “I can take you there now, if you’d like.”
Shaine nodded, and Vorri took hold of his hand and Jumped. Shaine found himself in a cozy bedroom. A lamp burned low on the table, illuminating the room in a soft glow. Blue and white curtains hung at the windows, and a matching quilt lay over a big bed. “Where are we?”
Vorri pushed him toward the bed. “My house.”
“Yours?”
“It’s on the edge of town. Quiet. Private. Ma said since you and I seemed so fond of one another, it was time I had a place of my own. She and Da brought all my things here, and I wondered if… if you’d like to stay here with me.”
“I would,” Shaine said, pulling Vorri into his arms. “If that’s what you want.”
“If it’s what I want?” Vorri kissed his neck. “I’ll show you what I want, Shaine of Rhiva.” He pushed Shaine down on the bed and began undressing him.
It had been too long since they’d last had the luxury of taking their time with each other. Now, Shaine lay back and let Vorri take the lead. Vorri’s confidence had grown in the last few weeks, and there was no hesitation in the hands that opened Shaine’s clothes and explored his body. Those hands left trails of fire wherever they touched, and it wasn’t long before Shaine was drowning in need and want. He pulled Vorri down on top of him, rutting furiously against him.
Vorri groaned, body moving with Shaine’s.
But Shaine wanted more, wanted to feel skin on skin. He rolled Vorri over and tore the shirt off of him. Vorri’s eyes went wide and dark.
Shaine finished stripping him and knelt between Vorri’s legs, nuzzling and licking until Vorri was begging for more. Vorri’s fingers clenched the quilt beneath him as he bucked his hips, his husky moans of pleasure sending waves of heat shimmering through Shaine.
“Shaine, please…” Vorri reached for him and Shaine rolled them to their sides and began rutting against him again. Vorri’s arms went around him, clinging tightly as he thrust his hips against Shaine, driving them both toward the peak.
The climax was blinding white and so intense Shaine forgot everything for a few brief moments. When he came down, he was almost surprised to find Vorri still wrapped in his arms.
Vorri’s mouth found his, and now his kisses were soft and gentle.
“Stay with me, Shaine?” he murmured.
Shaine kissed him again. “Yes. I’ll stay with you.”
Vorri snuggled against him and let out a contented sigh.
Lying with Vorri in his arms, listening to the faint sounds of celebration across town, Shaine thought he could get used to this place, this life. He may not have found exactly what he’d set out to, but what he’d brought home with him was far better in every way.
~ The End ~