Page 22 of The Mage’s Rake (Catkin Trilogy #2)

Alan

I ought to be used to Hugh’s surprises. I have long known that Hugh enjoys startling me on occasion.

He certainly surprised me with his thoughtfulness during the past few weeks.

It wasn’t just protecting me as I investigated the poison and the mystery of Hugh’s curse.

It was in the small things—the light touches, the questions, the delivery of hot tea…

or even the replacement of the quill I had worried to death.

So, when Hugh suddenly drew me into a deep embrace, wrapped his arms around me, and buried his head against my shoulder, I ought to have been surprised.

When the embrace turned into a deep kiss filled with longing, I ought to have been shocked.

Perhaps I should have stopped him. We were, after all, standing right there in the hallway, visible to any potential passersby.

And yet… I did not care. Instead, my hands found their way about his waist, drawing him closer in silent invitation.

I joined the fray, battling for dominance with Hugh.

A playful gesture that I knew he appreciated.

As my tongue teased him and my teeth nipped at his bottom lip, Hugh groaned softly.

His left hand rose to brace my head as he pushed me back against the door, showing a hint of the dominant, yet playful energy he had brought to his lovemaking.

I surrendered to his touch, letting the world slip into a haze of white as I focused on his hands and the way he gently held me in his arms. The strength of his muscles beneath the padded tunic he had chosen to wear today.

There were, I realized suddenly, altogether too many layers of clothing between us, but Hugh didn’t seem to be in a hurry to strip either of us down.

Instead, he focused on my lips, my jaw, and the upper lines of my neck.

I could barely stifle my responding moans as desire began to pool in my belly, sending racing sparks over my skin, through my body, down to my cock that responded to the scent of Hugh’s echoing desire.

When black dots began to swim and faintness hovered on the edge of consciousness, we eased back, gasping for breath.

I clung to Hugh, resting my head on his broad shoulders, and finding comfort as his arms tightened around my waist and shoulders.

It was more than desire. It was a comforting companionship that felt so new to me.

We never embraced this way in the White Tower.

It felt odd, but at the same time, it also felt so right.

Especially with Hugh , I mused. Everything feels right with Hugh.

After another few minutes of quiet, Hugh eased back with a sigh. There was a tell-tale glimmer on the edge of his reddish-brown lashes. His gold-flecked brown eyes were rimmed with the barest hint of wet. I didn’t know what to say.

“We’re not alone anymore,” he said finally. His voice was husky with emotion, but there was a tinge of relief there as well. “I am not alone. It sounds odd, I know, but…”

I realized it then—Hugh had felt the same as I had.

That sense of loneliness despite being caught up in a crowd.

The realization that few people truly understand who you are…

although you live in a place most would consider to be your home.

That was the way of it in the White Tower with its bells and rote duties and classes and silent, meditative solstice celebrations.

I had never known my parents, and the White Tower had been all I knew.

It was a sheltered place of knowledge, and it had protected me through years of turmoil, but none of them truly understood the dreams I had harbored.

It was an important place and it held equally special memories, but I had always struggled to consider it home.

“No,” I said. “I understand, Hugh. I… I feel the same way as well. I mean, I’ve felt it for quite some time, but I suppose the season has really helped me to, well, uh…”

“Emerge from your hermitage? Blossom?” Hugh asked. I could tell by the sparkle that returned to his eyes that he was teasing me, but there was a softness that took the edge off.

“Yes, I suppose something like that,” I mumbled, feeling rather idiotic now that I’d said it aloud.

Hugh’s hand threaded through my now rather wild hair and brushed against the base of my ears just the way I liked. He smiled at me fondly and chuckled.

“Sometimes it’s hard to admit when you have a good thing,” Hugh noted.

“Especially when you do not wish to lose it,” I added, half to myself.

Hugh nodded in agreement.

“Well,” I said lightly, opening the door to my laboratory. “I’ve got an afternoon of potion stocking. What about you, Hugh?”

“I’ve got a few things as well on my docket, but in a couple of hours, I’ll come round with lunch. How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” I said.

I leaned forward, gave Hugh another quick peck on the lips, and darted into my laboratory.

For the first time, I was able to leave a very startled Hugh behind.

I felt as though I were on top of the world.

Hugh had found happiness. The tinge of darkness that Aileen had mentioned was surely receding.

Hugh was truly embracing us as his family… and I was part of it.

For a few seconds, I enjoyed the warmth that lingered at the thought of Hugh seeing me as family—or perhaps even more.

Then, I saw the half-empty cauldron of my Potion of Intelligent Analysis Solvent.

Hugh was still cursed. If I didn’t break it by the end of the month, someone truly in my family, someone I loved, would be lost to me forever.

All warmth fled me, and I shivered as though a mighty winter wind had just blasted through my room.

I stood before the fire deep in thought, struggling to keep calm.

This was not a time for tears. This was a time for thought, for planning, for something extreme.

Nyria had told me to bide the hour, but the Goddess would have to forgive my impatience and doubt.

I needed a backup plan. I needed Deep Magick.

Nyria. Meryn. Solas. Agathar. Lymellan. Korynne.

Ziran. These are just a few of the gods and goddesses that the catkin of the Amarran Continent worshiped.

Esteria, Sumarene, and our two smaller southern neighbors, Xanthea and Navarros, share similar pantheons.

The Goddess of Fertility, the Goddess of Love and the Moon, the God of War and the Sun, the God of the Sea.

So on, and so forth. This, all catkin know.

Ancient stories, however, held in high regard by the mystics, the Seers, and the White Tower, tell of the Time Before.

The Time Before was a period of primordial energy, swirling about as though the cosmos itself were a cauldron.

As the universe was born these energies solidified into aspects of our reality—time, life, death, light, dark, shadow.

The primordial energies were their own beings at first. They too had names, but now that their essences dissolved, their stories have largely been lost to time.

Kronos, Gaia, Mors, Solana, Yami, and Varjo.

They disappeared, but as with all manner of life, nothing is ever truly gone.

Not really. The Ancients, as the White Tower preferred to call them, have ever remained deep within our essences, and communion with those forces, while highly dangerous, could move mountains.

Literally in some cases. The toll for such communion was high, and many, particularly the Elders at the White Tower, held that such magick was best left untouched.

Deep Magick, as the tomes named it, was, for all intents and purposes, taboo…

and I was about to break a thousand and one rules to attempt communion with Gaia.

It’s worth it , I told myself when Hugh returned as promised with a platter of cold cuts, freshly baked bread, a pat of butter, and some leafy greens.

The time I set aside for lunch was fleeting.

Before I knew it, my cauldrons needed more stirring.

Hugh summoned a servant to clear away the food and took up his usual spot to the left of the fireplace, where he could watch in the corner of the laboratory without getting in my way.

He gave me a summation of his afternoon, his discussion with the guards, the development of his various investigations, and the new reports he sent to Gareth.

Hugh stretched, unfurled his tail, and groaned lazily.

“I feel so tired,” he said.

“You should rest,” I said, beating down the rising alarm that reared its head at his words.

“Oh,” Hugh chuckled and flapped a hand dismissively. “It’s not that, Alan. I just think this place is so warm and cozy, it would put anyone to sleep.”

“Hm.”

I stepped back and returned to the delicate task of bottling my newest batch of Unguent of Glamour and Brightening, a skin salve that eased dry skin.

I had other salves, potions, and elixirs warming on the hearth.

Perhaps, if I had taught Hugh the basics of handling potions, he might have helped me, but I noticed him dozing off in his armchair.

Smiling like an idiot, no doubt, I watched him nod off.

Whatever Hugh said, I was concerned about the aura swirling in his body.

My mage’s eyes could not help but note the steady drain of his life energies.

As soon as I could, I pulled out the thick woolen blanket I stored beside my laboratory’s cot and draped it snugly about him.

Before I could stop myself, my hand rose to gently brush away a stray lock of his gorgeous reddish-brown hair.

I loved how bouncy and wavy Hugh’s hair was.

It always made me want to run my hands through it. A foolish notion, I knew.

“Jus… a nap…” mumbled Hugh.

“Rest,” I replied soothingly, allowing my magicks to swirl to my hand even as I cupped his warm cheek.

I leaned forward to seal my magical spell of Dreamless Rest with a kiss lightly pressed against the tousled waves of his hair.

I remained bent for a moment, wishing I could just curl up with Hugh and press my cheek against his, feel my heart beat in time with his, as though we could share a single breath.

Unfortunately, work beckoned, so I reluctantly tore myself away and kept my dark thoughts at bay with potion brewing and bottling.

I had to help Landis with the charity soirée.

I had a few patients in the castle to visit with Aileen.

I had a few potions to brew for the housekeeper and captain of the guard.

I had to finish writing up my finalized reports for Gareth to be sent with Hugh’s own report.

I had to figure out what Nyria meant exactly.

I had to make sure that Hugh was never in true danger.

Nyria and Meryn, the stories say, emerged from the breasts and thighs of Gaia.

They were closest to her heart. Her hands, however, entwined with Solana to birth Solas, the God of War, of the Sun, of the Sunna.

Solas is an energy of activity and motion.

As his child, I could hardly stay put and wait.

If Deep Magick held the answer, if it could provide Hugh a safety net, I would do my utmost to see it come to pass.

I wasn’t about to give Hugh up to Agathar, the God of Fate, without a fight.