Page 53 of Awakening

“It could be another trick,” Marc said, mirroring Trystan’s thoughts.

“Precisely my concern,” Emrys replied. “Trystan?”

Trystan shook his head. “I don’t know.” He turned abruptly and stormed away, raking both hands through his hair.

“Trystan,” Emrys called after him.

“He’s not going in there unless he’s certain,” Marc said.

“Agreed. And he won’t be certain of anything until he learns how to see the true path.”

“He needs time.”

“Time we don’t have.”

“We need to go in,” Trystan said, walking between Marc and Emrys.

Marc caught him by the arm. “Wait, how do you know?”

“When Morgaine tempted me before, it was through a dream. This wasn’t a dream. I saw this place in my mind just as a voice whispered, the blood of Arthur. I’ve been unsettled since we left Tintagel, my instincts telling me we were overlooking something. The moment I arrived here, that tension eased. What we need is here, and we need it before we go to Lundain.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” Marc said.

“All of us will go,” Emrys added.

“I do not know what will happen once we go in.” Trystan looked between them. Unthinking, he grasped both Emrys and Marc’s hand. “I am not willing to risk either of your lives.”

“That is one choice you do not get to make,” Marc said. “I would put my life before yours if it meant protecting you.”

Emrys intended to pull his hand from Trystan’s grasp but, as if by its own accord, his hand squeezed Trystan’s instead. The sensation of simply holding his hand was incredible, but when Trystan squeezed back half a heartbeat later, Emrys almost couldn’t control the burning need to lean forward and kiss him, to take what should be his, and he struggled to hide the buried emotions daring to emerge with Trystan’s touch. He forced all thoughts of bonding with Trystan aside. Giving into these untimely, frenzied desires would lead to Trystan’s defeat as well as his death.

“As would I,” Emrys said.

Marc caught the barely discernible hitch in Emrys’ breath before he spoke, and the need to possess Trystan as his own surged within. He shifted his grip on Trystan’s hand, threading their fingers together. “Perhaps Emrys should stay, in the event we need him to pull us back.”

“A valid point,” Trystan said.

Emrys couldn’t help his glare at Marc, as irrational as it was. “Either way, whether I stay here or go with you, there is a risk. Trystan, it is your choice.” Emrys narrowed his eyes at Marc, releasing Trystan’s hand. “And we must not influence it.”

Trystan stared after Emrys as he strode away toward the horses, the loss of his closest friend’s touch taunting his memory again.

“Trystan.” Marc was careful to guard his expression.

There was more to Emrys’ protectiveness than he’d admitted to, and Marc couldn’t help the growing distrust for the man when it came to who would have Trystan’s heart. He feared Emrys desired far more from Trystan, but his actions conflicted with that theory. If he wanted Trystan, why would he not have already claimed him? It was clear that Trystan also cared about Emrys, but to what extent, Marc didn’t know.

Trystan tore his gaze away from Emrys and looked at Marc. Concern hinted at the corners of Marc’s eyes as he too shifted his gaze from Emrys to him.

“Consider you’re decision carefully, love,” Marc said, “while I speak with Emrys for a moment.”

Marc released Trystan’s hand and made his way toward Emrys. As he came around the black stallion, he caught Emrys’ faint whisper. “Why is this happening?”

Marc glanced back to ensure Trystan wouldn’t overhear. He kept his voice low. “Why is what happening?”

“Trystan. He should not be so uncertain of the path.” Emrys rubbed his thumb over the smooth surface of the small river stone in his hand.

“Is that your only concern?”

Emrys held the Prince’s scrutinizing gaze for a few moments before taking a deep breath. He shook his head. “No. It is not.”