Page 4

Theo

I don’t want to go downstairs. I really, really don’t want Roan to be right. But he was right about the sheets wasn’t he? And the eating. Well, everyone was right about me eating more. And well, he was right about the reading.

The well-loved third book of the Radomir, Creator of Darkness series is taunting me with Roan’s rightness from its place on the bedside table. In amongst my extremely full schedule of wallowing in self pity and ignoring everyone who’s come to see me like I’m a raging toddler, I’ve managed to read the first two.

I’ve actually really enjoyed them. I’d heard a lot about the series, but I’d never had the time to read them. They are creepy, and weird. And fun .

Maybe the disturbing horror tale about a young man haunted by twelve increasingly deranged ghosts determined to use him to bring about the end of times and release the damned from the ether should be upsetting in my traumatised state, but they have been oddly comforting.

Radomir, despite the calamity in his life, is strong, stoic, and brave. But also terrified of his growing madness. I can empathise. I have no idea how Roan knew I’d like them, but he’d done a good job. It had been a thoughtful present.

And now it was time to thank him. And pull my head out of my ass. Maybe Edith’s disgusting tea is working but I can finally see that cocooning in my little nest isn’t making me feel any better. It’s not healthy.

As much as it hurts to drag my body out of the bed and pull on the clothes Seldon has left for me, some things need to be done. Going downstairs, late enough that the tavern should be bare, seems like a good first step.

Facing Roan might not seem like a big deal, and it probably shouldn’t be, but ever since he pulled me from Marieth’s cottage, the man has irritated and fascinated me, and I haven’t known how to handle it.

The worst is when he gets all protective, watching over me whenever he thinks I can’t tell, or just out in the open, like he can’t help it.

I like it.

Too much.

I risked my life in some stupid attempt to assert my independence, and one glance at that stupid man with his stupid handsome face and his stupid handsome horns and I just want to throw myself into his arms and beg him to take care of me forever. To keep me safe. Make me his.

Not happening.

Especially judging by how things went when I’d kissed him. Because I had done exactly that on our trek back to Black Stump.

He’d been horrified.

It had been a few days after my rescue. He’d avoided me wherever he could, but I’d still felt his eyes on me whenever he thought I wasn’t looking. Our group had run into a herd of centaurs that Edith and Caelan had met earlier in their rescue trip.

The invitation had soon turned into a party, and it had been almost funny watching the centaur leader hit on Caelan repeatedly until my brother was forced to step in. But for me the night had been stressful.

After being on my own for weeks in Marieth’s basement, I’d been overwhelmed enough by our little group. The herd drinking and feasting around us had been even worse. At first Seff had provided a welcome barricade, but then he’d left to go and hit on one of the centaurs himself.

That was when Roan had decided to stop glowering at me from across the fire and come and sit with me instead. And by “with me”, I mean he shoved me behind him and glowered at everyone who dared to walk past him. He hadn’t said anything, just mumbled something about keeping me safe after everything that I’d been through.

I’d tried to say something to him, but I couldn’t make the words come out. I felt so woefully inadequate next to him. He was so calm, so sure of himself. There was a steadiness to him that I’d never had.

“Are you hungry? I haven’t seen you eat.” His voice had been gruff as he’d questioned me. That he’d noticed, or even cared had sent a flurry of butterflies off in my stomach, even as his concern rankled.

The idea that he thought I couldn’t take care of myself, that I was somehow weak and needed to be protected chafed at my nerves. I’d wriggled on my spot on the blanket, both trying to get close enough to smell his warm and spicy scent and also escape his claustrophobic presence and the feelings he brewed up in me. It made my skin itch with a need for something I couldn’t name.

“I’m fine. I’m not hungry anyway.”

He’d grunted at me, in that way that he does. In our short time together I’d already learnt that it meant that he wanted to lecture me about something but was trying to keep it to himself. He’d turned over his shoulder to shoot me a fierce glare, his dark hair had fallen from its tie, loosely framing his face.

I’d been struck by the heat in his gaze. No one had ever looked at me like that before, not even Darius.

That itch beneath my skin finally had a name, a hot bolt of lust had shot through my body, making my cock hard and my fingers ache to trace the shadowy lines of his back under his shirt. But I hadn’t, because in an instant the look had been gone, and I convinced myself it wasn’t real.

The air between us had grown more and more tense as the night went on. He’d steadily ignored me, and I tried to think of anything to say that wouldn’t make me sound like an idiot.

In the end I’d needed a break. I needed air. Which was a ridiculous thought because we were literally outside at the time. I stood, brushing myself off when Roan captured my hand in his. It had been the first time we’d touched properly since he’d rescued me, and the feel of his skin against mine had shocked me like a branding iron.

I’d swallowed hard, terrified he’d see the outline of my embarrassingly rapidly growing erection in my borrowed jeans. He hadn’t noticed though, instead his dark grey eyes had been filled with worry.

“You okay?” He was stroking my wrist with his thumb, wiping every thought from my brain with every swipe. Instead, I’d flapped my hand around and garbled something about it being too loud before ripping my wrist from his hold and turning to walk out into the dark Woods.

He hissed for me to wait and jumped up to follow me as I’d stalked off, snatching up my hand again. I hadn’t looked back. I couldn’t. I’d just stalked off into the night with Roan dragging behind me. Thankfully, whilst my gifts and power had been taken from me, I still had my enhanced fae eyesight so I could see mostly where I was going.

I had pulled him through the trees until they got so dense we couldn’t pass any further. With nowhere to go I’d collapsed against a thick trunk of an oak, Roan still holding my hand tight.

“You okay?” He’d sounded sincere, and he’d been so close, his scent wrapping around me, sending goosebumps up my skin. I’d laughed, shaking my hand free so I could rub my face and pull at my hair.

“No Roan, no I am not okay. I was kidnapped by an ancient fae, and almost died, all because of my own stupidity. I have lost everything and almost risked my brother's life. And all of yours. And now we’re in the middle of the enchanted woods, and I am tired and scared and it just feels-” Tears pooled in my eyes as I ranted hysterically, but I didn’t get to finish.

Instead, Roan had pulled me to him, and I was encased in his strong arms. His body wrapped around me, pressing my face into his hard chest. He was so much bigger than me. Not that he’s a giant like the rest of them, I am just short. He’s wide, muscly, and thick, though. Like a wall. And so warm too.

I’d wrapped my arms around him, my fingers digging into the flesh above his waistband as I’d tried to get a hold of myself. Roan had nuzzled against me, his beard scraping against my curls.

“It’s going to be okay Theo. You are going to be okay.” His deep voice had rumbled through his chest, and I’d felt him staring down at me. I’d pulled back, as much as the steel bands of his arms and the tree at my back would allow, and stared into the depths of his eyes.

It was hard to see in the dark of the night but I saw, well I thought I saw, something there. Heat and wanting. Need. I’d swallowed hard against the nerves that had twisted up my spine, my anxiety having turned into something new and different, hotter, more intense.

The noise of the party had dimmed to nothing, there was just us, Roan and me, the whisper of the Woods around us. I tried to pull away, to say something to break the spell between us. But I couldn’t. I can remember vividly the heat of his breath ghosting across my cheek as his eyes had searched for something deep in mine.

I hadn’t been able to take it anymore, launching myself up to my tiptoes to press my lips to his. They were cold at first, from the chill of the night, and hard. He hadn’t been prepared for my attack, and he had stood unmoving for one heartbeat, and then two, while I raised my hands from his waist to tangle my fingers into his long waves. But then, by the Gods, he’d opened his mouth, sweeping his tongue against my lips, forcing them to part for him.

In that moment I think he owned me. Nothing had ever felt like that kiss. A rough growl rattled between us, as he bent lower to take more of me. Devour me. I had whimpered, whimpered as his mouth danced over mine, desperate to get as close as possible.

I wanted to climb inside him.

My fingers had pulled tighter at his hair, and his hands, his glorious hands cupped my jaw, possessive yet delicate, his fingers stroking my neck until I trembled.

Roan pushed his body harder against me until I was shoved against the unrelenting tree trunk behind me. I felt the heat from his whole body against me, making me even more aware of the places we weren’t touching. With no thought other than that I would die if he stopped kissing me, his tongue plundering my mouth, I’d jumped and wrapped my legs around his waist, forcing him to catch me with those big hands I had suddenly become obsessed with.

Pressed together like that, I’d felt his cock, hard and impossibly thick, straining against his pants, as though it were trying to break free. Grinding my own leaking dick against his felt glorious. So I’d done it again. And again.

But then, I made the mistake of needing oxygen. On a particularly pathetic cry, I pulled back, breath heaving, sucking down lungfuls of air, his forehead dropping to the bark beside my head. My hips hadn’t stopped riding his.

In my delirium it took me too long to realise that, while I was basically dry humping him like a dog, he was still. The humiliating realisation, the fact he was attempting to hold his hips back from mine, the way his fingers dug into my ass, the pain no longer pleasurable, soured my stomach.

I’d unlocked my legs from where they were crossed behind him, his fingers squeezing me once more, before releasing, and I’d dropped to the ground.

“I’m sorry, Theo.” Well fuck. My heart had dropped out, and my stomach soured.

“I - I. What?” I’d stammered incoherently, my brain unable to keep up with the whiplash of that kiss being followed by an apology.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was wrong. You’re vulnerable and -”

“NO! Don’t worry. It’s fine. Just—it’s fine.” My voice was harsh, laced with hurt. But then, I’d just had hands down, the very best kiss of my life, not that the list was long, but still, and he gets all shamey about it? Way to ruin the moment.

The idea that he didn’t want me , that he just felt sorry for me made me feel sick. Hot tears had welled in my eyes, but I’d been damned if I was going to let him see them. So, I’d shoved him off me and stalked back to the centaur camp.

It had taken him a moment to readjust and chase after me, but I’d only hurried faster in the dark, running from the sounds of him crashing through the trees.

“Theo, wait! ” I’d heard him just as his hand landed on my shoulder, but I’d shrugged him off. I didn’t want to hear any more of his apologies. I didn’t want to hear all the ways he didn’t want me, all the ways I didn’t measure up. I’d heard it enough in my life.

“I don’t want to hear it, Roan.” I continued shoving my way through the branches, ignoring his huff behind me.

“ You’re going the wrong way.” Annoyed, embarrassed, horny , I’d turned to face him, or where I thought he was, in the dark, my hands on my hips. “Camp, it’s that way.”

I’d thought I saw him throw a thumb over his shoulder, but refused to speak to him any more. Instead, I’d stomped off in the direction he’d pointed.

It was late when we’d returned to camp, with everyone fast asleep. Edith was gone as usual, Seff had disappeared, and I wasn’t about to cuddle up with my brother and Caelan for the night. I’d already done that and waking up with them snuggling and rubbing all up against each other in their sleep once had been enough. Which only left Roan.

I had managed to set up our bed on one of the unused blankets, pinching another from a sleeping centaur to form a barricade between us for the night.

That had been then though.

And now I just have to open the door of my room. I twist the sleeves of the overly long sweatshirt around my hands. Seldon might be slim like me, but he has a lot more lean muscle on him. Plus, he has a serious height advantage, making his clothes make me look even more like a child.

One deep breath. In and out.

With my book in one hand, all the better to ignore anyone who wants to talk, I open the door and make my way out of my room.

The socks on my feet are silent as I pad into the dimly lit hallway. My shoes are long gone, the sneakers I’d been rescued in had only been fit for the fire by the time we’d made it back to the Black Stump. I’d been lucky that I’d been wearing them to keep warm in the basement cell when Marieth had taken me that final morning, otherwise they would have burned in the fire too. The walk back was tough enough without doing it barefoot.

The hallway is all dark woods, with a handful of doors leading to separate bedchambers. A richly patterned runner runs the length of the hall, a riot of greens and yellows, embroidered spring flowers, and bright gold tassels.

Considering it is late, though I am not quite sure how late due to the whole hermit thing, the hallways are lit with brass sconces glowing with soft yellow light.

The Black Stump itself has no electricity, so the light had to be coming from a magical source. If I’d still had my gift, I would have known without a second thought, but now I had to, I don’t know, guess? How do regular people figure things out? I’d always just… known.

Curiosity getting the better of me, or maybe just the need to rub some salt on my wounds, I wander over to inspect one of the lights. Unfortunately, being height deficient like I am, I am too short to see inside, but I quickly find a chair and drag it over as quietly as I can.

Knowing my luck lately, I’d probably be interrupting a vampire's breakfast and they’d come out to make me their dessert. A shiver skids over my skin. I shake off the thought and climb onto the chair. Unfortunately, after all that effort, it ends up not being interesting at all. Inside the light is a hunk of Cyaertite, a glowing crystal that grows in the northern caves of Ulydessia and is known for producing its own light.

I’d studied it briefly a few years back to see if it could be used as a new electrical energy source, but it was ineffective in the end. The stone had been too unstable to generate consistent or amplified power.

I humph as I jump down from the chair and drag it back to its place in the hall. Disappointment follows me as I make my way down the gorgeous tree staircase leading down to the main hall.

I can’t put my finger on why I’m disappointed, whether it’s because I didn’t know the answer for once, or due to the reminder of what I once was. Either way, it rankles and leaves a bitter feeling in my stomach as I make my way down the steps.

The tavern is silent; there is nothing but the crackle of the fire in the large fireplace. Like a magnet, my eyes find Roan in the middle of a cluster of long tables, wiping them down and tucking in the stools. Just for a moment, I take in his broad shoulders and how his muscles play under his shirt when he moves. But then, almost instinctively, he freezes, snapping to attention. His cloth is dropped, forgotten, his dark eyes snapping to mine.

With all the power of his attention on me I forget to breathe for a moment, but then he breaks into a wide, beard-twitching grin, his eyes crinkling at the sides like a man who has known a lot of laughter, and throws his arms wide.

“Theo!” Ugh , that deep voice of his still does something to me, sending a thrill up my spine. I hate that he can do that to me. He takes a step towards me, and I try and fail not to notice the way that his tan pants strain across his thighs with his step, but then he hesitates. Like he’s scared of spooking me.

I might hate how much I’m attracted to the man. But I hate this more, this worry that I am so fragile and need to be protected. That hard little ball of anger had softened as I’d perved on Roan, but now it flares again, into something else. Something petulant and irritable.

To his credit, Roan notices the flicker of emotion across my face and instantly softens his stance, crosses his arms across his big chest, and tilts his head as he watches me. His long wavy hair has fallen out of its usual bun at the back of his head into his face. Despite my irritation, my hands itch to tuck it behind his ear. I shove my traitorous hands in my pockets to stop myself from doing anything stupid.

“You made it down.” He’s right in front of me now, and I lean my hip against a table, aiming for casual nonchalance.

“Yeah, I, uh, thought it was about time, you know?” One of Roan's eyebrows lifts like he was desperate to call me on my bullshit but knows better. Smart man, I wonder if he can taste blood from all the tongue biting he’s doing.

I clear my throat and try again, but at the moment I can’t actually face looking at him and all his intense sincerity in the eye, so instead I focus on the stool tucked under the table.

“Actually, I wanted to thank you. The books—they are good. I appreciate it. Really.” I flash the novel in my hand and take a chance to look up. And thank the Gods I did, as I am rewarded with the hint of a blush under his thick beard, his lip between his teeth, with his small smile.

“No problem.” He nods back over at the gleaming wooden bar behind him. “I have a couple of hours left till we close for the night. I need to catch up on my bookwork. Why don’t you sit at the bar and keep me company?” There is a hopefulness in his voice that I try not to put too much stock in.

Roan’s a friend—well my brother's mate's friend. Of course he doesn’t want me wasting away in one of his tavern rooms. Surely that's not good for business. Reason doesn’t stop the little spark of foolishness that flames to light in my chest anyway.

“Yeah, sure, I’d like that.”