Page 18

T he evening meal had just ended when Willem entered the dining room. “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but Captain Casseign has returned and wishes to see you in his office.”

Niam nodded to Mother and Rufe. “If you’ll excuse me.” Although he longed to stay and enjoy Rufe’s company, duty called.

Niam entered his office to find Casseign sprawled in a chair, sipping from a goblet. He started to rise, but Niam held up a staying hand. “You must be exhausted. Don’t get up.” He cocked his head, studying the goblet. “I didn’t know you drank wine.”

“Willem insisted that wine is more appropriate at this hour.” Casseign gave a cheeky but tired smile. “However, this is ale. He merely dressed it up to look the part and maintain appearances.”

Niam poured himself a glass of wine and sat in an adjacent chair. “Have you eaten?”

Casseign shook his head. “I’ll eat once we’ve talked.”

There were reasons Casseign was one of Niam’s most trusted confidants. One never needed to question his priorities. “What of Whreyn?”

“He didn’t return to his estate, and his guests were no longer there. I’m afraid I lost him during a storm. But the information from the man you captured seems to confirm Emperor Soland intends to invade Delletina, using the flimsiest of excuses that you kidnapped his son’s consort.”

“Soland will be surprised when his son and the consort return unharmed.” Or as unharmed as they could appear, given their injuries.

Casseign set his glass on a side table, rested his forearms on his knees, and fixed Niam with a penetrating gaze. “It’s been said that the emperor would sacrifice his second son to get what he wants. If Whreyn is in communication with Soland, Draylon and Yarif could be walking into a trap.”

Soland might kill his own son or allow him to be killed? Niam rose and paced the floor. “Then he may need our help. Draylon has proven himself to be a decent man, and you’re one of the few to know that Yarif is my own dear cousin. We must send a force to help them, plus show our backing.”

“Won’t that be seen as an invasion?”

“Not if we meet with Draylon before he arrives in Renvalle. He left a day ago. Based on what I’ve been told, Renvalle’s army has been depleted, and the kingdoms would rather back Draylon than the emperor. How quickly can you assemble two hundred men without drawing too much attention?”

“There’s a garrison a half day’s ride from here to the south. I can send someone tonight.”

Niam studied the wine in his glass. There wasn’t time to consult with his advisors, and they’d advise against giving aid to a Cormiran.

While Niam didn’t trust the emperor, he did trust Draylon, and hoped Delletina could work out an agreement, not with Emperor Soland, but perhaps with his heir.

If Avestan was anything like his younger brother Draylon, he’d prove to be a reasonable man.

“To the south? Round up your men here after you’ve rested. Some will come with us to the garrison, some will see my mother safely to the capital, and some will remain here.”

“What about your guest? It’s my understanding that the Cormiran captain is still with us.”

Rufe wouldn’t like what Niam had planned. “He needs to go with Mother. Travel will be tricky since he's injured, but he can recover at Dellamar Castle. I’ll ride at the head of our men, showing my support for King Draylon and his consort.”

Casseign frowned. “Some of our nobles won’t like it.”

Niam snorted. “They never like anything I do. I think they live to squabble like birds over breadcrumbs. I’ve listened long enough.

It’s time for me to act as king for the good of all and not base my actions on the wealthy few.

” He scowled at Casseign. “And don’t try to talk me out of my course of action. I've made my decision.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Casseign grinned. “It will be good to go adventuring with you.”

Rufe sat in the window seat, leg propped up, wearing a dressing gown. The door opened behind him. “Couldn’t someone at least give me proper clothes?” he groused.

Niam entered and closed the door behind him. “Loose clothing is better for your leg and gives easier access to Mother’s healing.” His heart pounded. Rufe wouldn’t take the news of Niam’s imminent departure well. Not providing proper clothes today might keep him in his room.

Rufe spun, taking in Niam’s clothing: tight-fitting trousers, tunic, and riding boots. Not the attire of a noble, but the travel dress of a warrior. He pinned Niam with a hard gaze, growling. “You’re planning on leaving me here, aren’t you?” His anger softened to sorrow.

Oh, no. This would be harder than Niam thought. He’d do anything to erase the hurt from Rufe’s eyes.

Niam pulled a chair close to the window seat. The day was unusually warm for this time of year, and he’d have to leave soon while the weather favored traveling. First, he needed to explain. “I don’t know who else will back Draylon against the emperor, but he can’t head into the unknown alone.”

“I’ve long believed his father would kill him if he thought to gain from it,” Rufe said, bitterness in his tone.

“And you know him better than most.” Niam’s own father had been kind and loving, if firm with his only son, and he’d died young. Why did a bitter old man who’d kill his own child get to live so long?

“Sadly, I do.” Rufe glanced away, staring out the window.

An ache filled Niam’s chest. “You and Draylon are lovers.” He held his breath in anticipation of the answer. It wasn’t any of his business. Still, he had to know.

Rufe didn’t meet Niam’s gaze. “We’ve shared our bodies, but we were never truly lovers. Friends, yes. Lovers, no.”

The aching grip on Niam’s heart eased, but not by much. “Because of the difference in your stations?”

“No. Because we’re incompatible as a couple.”

Niam wasn’t sure if he wanted an answer, but had to know the truth, anyway. “But you love him.”

Rufe faced Niam, the truth of his words showing in his eyes. “Of course. But it’s as a friend and a brother. Anything more ended when he took Yarif as his consort, for reasons of honor, but now because he loves Yarif.”

“And you?”

Rufe huffed out a breath. “Niam, I cannot love you, nor you me.” Strange how he averted his gaze again when speaking the words. “You know my circumstances, plus I’m a foreigner. Your people would never accept me. Now, stop distracting me. You’re following Draylon and aren’t taking me with you.”

Time enough to dwell on Rufe’s lie later. “Guards will escort you and Mother back to Delletina.”

“And I get no say.” The muscles of Rufe’s jaw flexed.

Maybe he’d listen to reason. “You are in no condition to travel or to fight.” I can’t stand to lose you .

Fire danced in Rufe’s eyes when he connected his glare to Niam’s. “Don’t you think I should be the one making such a decision?”

Niam sank from his chair to the floor, taking Rufe’s hand. Please, let him listen. “I won’t have you in danger.”

Rufe snorted. “I’m a Cormiran in Delletina. Every moment I stay here puts me and you in danger.”

“You’d leave me?” Did Rufe long to return to his old life?

“I’ve had a sword in my hand since childhood, and want to be where I am most useful. I’m fairly useless at courtly intrigue.”

“Then let my mother help you. Get to know my sons.” They would adore Rufe.

“I’ve never needed anyone’s help.”

“Everyone needs help sometimes, even a proud warrior like you. Didn’t Draylon recently need help to rescue his consort? And didn’t Yarif need to be rescued?”

Rufe must’ve found something on the ceiling highly interesting, based on his intent upward glower. “That’s different.”

“No, it’s not.” Niam turned Rufe’s hand over and placed a kiss on the palm. “You allowing help helps me, as I won’t have to worry so much about you when I’m gone.”

Rufe's eyebrows arched in surprise. “You… worry about me?”

“Of course I do.” It was time to put thoughts into action and show this man how much Niam cared. He rose from the floor, gently tugging Rufe's hand until he, too, stood, though he placed most of his weight on his good leg .

Niam framed Rufe’s dear face with his hands, melding their mouths together. Rufe let out a moan.

Niam led him toward the bed, allowing Rufe plenty of time to stop if he felt the need. He didn’t stop.

The dressing gown came off far easier than Niam’s clothes until Rufe stood by the bed in all his scarred, beautiful glory, his stiffening cock ensuring Niam that he wasn’t pushing too far too fast.

He took in Rufe, from his tousled black curls to the long toes currently digging into the rug, every inch of him gorgeous.

Niam placed his hand on his lover’s scarred chest. “Lie down. Let me take care of you.” He half expected an argument, but Rufe settled on his back on the bed, lodging his uninjured arm under his head and watching Niam with a raised brow.

Niam unlaced his tunic and let it fall to the floor. He removed his boots, trousers, and undergarments to stand before Rufe naked. Showing his body always made Niam self-conscious, exposing his pale skin marred with freckles.

“Come here,” Rufe beckoned, voice husky. The admiration in his eyes revealed his appreciation for what he saw, easing Niam’s fears. Rufe held out a hand.

Niam accepted the offered hand and kissed the palm again before climbing onto the bed, careful not to jostle Rufe’s bandaged arm, leg, or foot.

He straddled Rufe’s body, pausing to take a good look at the man.

Balancing his weight on his arms and legs, he bent to take Rufe’s sweet mouth, moaning when Rufe opened for him and stroked Niam’s tongue with his own.

Slow, sweet, unhurried. This man was made to be worshipped .

Niam ran his open mouth over Rufe’s jaw, down his neck, and back up to nip an earlobe.

Rufe’s curls tickled Niam’s skin. Niam trailed kisses downward to bury his nose in the mat of hair on Rufe’s chest, running his tongue over a particularly vicious scar and gently taking a nipple between his teeth.

Rufe sucked in a breath, muscles tensing. Oh, someone liked that. Niam repeated the attention on the other nipple. He skated his hands down Rufe’s belly, marveling at the firmness beneath his questing fingers. Solid. Dependable. Loyal.

Exactly the kind of man Niam wanted in his life and in his bed. He ran his fingers over Rufe’s powerful thighs, raising chills.

Rufe’s cock strained against his belly, a clear drop of fluid clinging to the tip. Niam licked it away, startling a gasp from Rufe.

Niam rolled his gaze upward, winked at Rufe, then settled between his thighs, making sure not to bump his injured leg. He lifted Rufe’s cock, rubbing the swollen length against his lips. Rufe stiffened, throwing his head back onto the pillow, digging his fingers into the bedcovers.

The man's enticing scent caused Niam’s mouth to water. He took the bulbous head between his lips, running his tongue over the smooth skin. Rufe’s moans provided a map of the places he wanted attention, the suction, and the speed—the depth.

Niam rolled Rufe’s balls in his fingers while worshipping that beautiful, long, thick cock with lips and tongue.

Rufe rasped out, “Keep that up, and this will be over too soon. ”

As much as Niam wanted to taste Rufe’s spend, he had other ideas and reluctantly pulled off, rising onto his knees, straddling Rufe and lining up the tip of Rufe’s cock with Niam’s hole.

“Wait! You’ll hurt yourself,” Rufe protested.

Niam grinned. “No, I won’t.” He slowly lowered himself, enjoying the burn as Rufe’s length opened him, slowly sliding into him, connecting them. He hissed between his teeth, but not with pain—with sheer pleasure.

“I don’t know if I should be grateful that you prepared yourself in advance or hurt that you’d planned how to best break the news that I wouldn’t be going. Ohhh!” Rufe released a long moan, gripping Niam’s hips. “Grateful. Definitely grateful.”

Exactly the reaction Niam hoped for while slicking and stretching himself before entering the room. He rode Rufe, memorizing the intense concentration on his face, the way his muscles flexed beneath Niam’s fingertips, and how Rufe filled Niam so perfectly.

Niam set a slow pace, resting his weight on his arms to seal their mouths together, then straightening, placing both hands on Rufe’s chest for a more energetic rhythm. Rufe thrust up, meeting Niam’s plunges, rocking together in time.

Their heavy breathing, moans, and groans harmonized with squeaking bed ropes and the crackling fire in the hearth. Niam panted, “I’m close.”

Rufe’s fingers tightened on Niam’s skin, and he threw back his head, releasing a growl. All his muscles stood out in stark relief as he cried out, bucking into Niam as he came .

Niam grabbed his own cock, desperately pumping. So close. So very close.

Rufe’s eyes popped open, and the sheer emotion in their dark depths sent Niam over the edge.

They held each other as they settled back into themselves, the steady rhythm of Rufe’s heart throbbing against Niam’s ear as he laid his head on Rufe’s broad chest. Soon, Rufe’s breathing evened.

Like a coward, Niam took advantage, dressed, and slipped out the door. Rufe’s words rang out in Niam’s mind: I cannot love you, nor you me.

He was so, so wrong.