by T. M. Smith
“Piss off,” August barked before shoving his filthy, and obviously smelly, wet clothes into a bag to be washed.
Robert stood and held his hand out. “Give it over. I’ll drop it off at the launderer on my way to the pub.” August tossed the bag at his head, Robert catching it in plenty of time.
“Hurry up, we’re meeting Cillian soon.” Robert glanced over his shoulder, returning the nod August gave him in response to his request.
Cillian was the brother of Cirian, the man married to the heir apparent of House Gaeland, Rian. Not born an Outkast, but an Outkast since birth, Cillian was brought to the camp by Marcus, the former Head of The Order, mere hours after coming into the world for failing his mapping test. Now the leader of the Resistance, Cillian fought to overturn the centuries-old laws that governed the Houses. While August could wholeheartedly agree, any person should be able to choose whom they loved and not be cast out for loving the opposite sex, he questioned Cillian’s motives.
For one, he was quite certain Cillian was gay. So how the hell had he failed the mapping test? Second, August knew for a fact the main reason Cillian wanted to bring war to his brother’s doorstep was because he was sent away by his father, Kiernan. Cirian had been awarded every luxury in life while Cillian had to fight to survive in the camps because of whom he was born to. Anger and hatred for his family drove Cillian to fight for freedom within the Houses, while August’s anger and hatred were fueled by sister’s death. It was their common goal to end the rule of the current Ambassadors, if for vastly different reasons, that bound the two men. An unseen thread of hate, contempt, and revenge drove them both on their path toward retribution.
Robert and Cillian were already seated at a table in the back when August arrived. He made his way over, taking in everyone in the room along the way. Marta, the barmaid, glared at August, and he responded with a wink. More than one angry outburst had been witnessed when August and Robert met Cillian in this same pub. The guard he’d seen in the establishment on more than one occasion sat at the corner of the bar, openly admiring Cillian. August took note and was determined to remind Cillian that their mission was not to find a warm hole to bury their dicks in. Grabbing the half-full jug of beer and filling the empty glass he presumed was his, he drained the glass of its contents before voicing his concern.
“What’s the deal with dreamy eyes at the bar?” he asked, jerking his head toward the guard.
Cillian smirked. “He is but a means to an end.”
“Yeah, does Elliot know that?” August asked, resisting the urge to grin sadistically when Cillian showed his surprise.
Quickly recovering, Cillian leaned across the table. “Yeah, Elliot knows this thing between us is a mere flirtation, a way for us both to unwind and pass the time.”
“I’m not really sure he would agree with such a statement,” August challenged. He and Cillian stared each other down.
Before the two of them went at each other like dogs after a bone, Robert cleared his throat. “Children, if we could focus on our common goal, perhaps this meeting will progress more smoothly than the last.” August and Cillian both snorted then laughed, the strain of tension easing just a bit with their mutual amusement.
Once he was certain they’d behave, Robert got down to business. “Okay then, we need to decide when we are going to set your plan in motion, Cillian. I think we should attack in the days leading up to the ceremony of the Priest and his lover from Greece. Their attention will be on the wedding and the guests arriving from the other Houses.”
August nodded his agreement. “The timing must be perfect, though. From what I’ve been told, a few ships have already arrived, though I’m not clear which House they’re from.”
Cillian grinned, leaning back in his chair and winking at the guard at the bar. August turned in time to see the man blush before ducking his head. Pivoting, he faced Cillian again and could see the determination in the man’s gaze. “Like I said, a means to an end.” His eyes darted left then right before Cillian leaned over the table and lowered his voice, obviously not wanting to be heard. “He’s a very vocal lover and I’m a very inquisitive man. I guess you could call it the perfect combination. I’ve managed to drag some important details out of him. Like a boat from House Brazilia arriving, carrying the Head of that House as well as his husband and wife.”
Robert gasped, eyes wide, a question forming on his lips. Cillian shook his head, effectively silencing him. “It seems my brother can no longer show disdain for opposite relationships when his own child engages in an openly opposite relationship.”
“We can use that weakness in our favor.” August spoke softly.
“Indeed.” Cillian beamed, lifting his mug, the three of them toasting, the copper cups clanging together loudly. “Stay focused on the plan, Augie.”
“Remind me, Cillian, what is ‘the plan’, exactly?” August asked sarcastically, finger air quotes and all.
One side of Cillian’s face lifted to form a crooked sneer. “Retribution, of course—for your sister and for my misery.”
August leaned back in his chair, head cocked to one side. He studied Cillian’s face for any signs of deceit and saw none. Marta was making the rounds, so they stopped talking business and ordered another jug of beer. A more ironclad plan was made before they went their separate ways, agreeing to meet up again after the next full moon.
Back in his room at the barracks, August lay awake for a while, picking everything apart in his mind. Could he truly end the life of a woman that was with child? He prayed Aiya delivered before they set their plan in motion, so he didn’t have to make a rash decision. He wasn’t certain he could go through with it. Just the thought alone made his blood boil. He wanted justice for his sister, regardless of the circumstance.
Keep your head in the game, August! He chastised himself silently. Aiya is pregnant—so what? Autumn will never have the opportunity, and it was stolen from her by Aiya, her brother, and that fucking hypocritical family of hers that thinks they control the world.
Closing his eyes and inhaling a deep, calming breath, then exhaling slowly, August pushed his wayward thoughts to a dark, empty place in the back of his mind, instead focusing on a memory of his sister. They were sixteen at the time, running through the forest August had chased the fox in mere hours before. Her red hair hung loose down her back as she ran, looking over her shoulder several times, the light from the sun making her green eyes shine like emeralds. And that laugh, ringing through the empty terrain, sounding like the bell chiming from the church on Sundays.
“I miss you so much—every goddamn day. Why am I questioning myself now, at the eleventh hour?” His words died in the darkness of his room.
Rolling to his side, August grabbed his pillow, punching the down material several times with his fist. Whether it was an attempt to fluff the flat pillow or an outlet for the pang of loss he felt deep in his gut—who knew? Who cared? No. This had to be done; his sister must be avenged. Damn the price he would have to pay, or the mark it would probably leave on his soul.
Chapter 5 | Still
The sun was slowly dropping, leaving the sky open for the moon. Kaden lay on his back atop a blanket he’d spread out beside the well-worn bench in the garden, marveling at the brilliant hues of blue and gold that adorned the sky at dusk. Turning his head to the side, he smiled at the sight of his husband. Aiyan sat on the bench, eyes closed, body slowly swaying side to side as he played his violin. This, right here, was the perfect evening as far as Kaden was concerned. He could sit and watch his husband lovingly stroke the bow over his violin for hours. It was an almost-euphoric state of peace for Aiyan, second only to the postcoital bliss they shared just after making love.
Although they’d only been married a little over a year, Kaden couldn’t imagine what his life would be like without Aiyan. Of course he missed his home, House Devi, and his parents. But his brother, Sawyer, and Aiyan were here at House Gaeland, and that was all he’d ever need. Initially learning
he’d been matched with Aiyan when he’d turned sixteen, Kaden was torn between elation at the promise of love and a new life with the young Prince and sorrow over the knowledge he’d have to leave his brother behind. Everything had changed when Sawyer and Aiya fell in love.
Aiya and Sawyer’s relationship defied the very fabric of what their society was built on. Opposites, people that were attracted to the opposite sex, were unheard of within the Houses. Or so they’d thought. The ruler over House Brasilia was bisexual and had taken a husband and a wife. Mateo also allowed his people to live their lives however they chose. Coincidentally, Brasilia was the House Amelia, Aiya and Aiyan’s biological mother, was born to. While Cirian, the twin’s father and the ruler over House Gaeland, was dead set against allowing any type of relationship to linger between his daughter and the adopted son of House Devi, a grandchild could make even the most stubborn man entertain a different outlook on life.
Closing his eyes, Kaden let the notes pouring into the darkening sky flow over him. Certain keys and tones brought back memories of his time locked away in a basement, wrapped in chains and staring up at the moon. Even in that dark hour, separated by time and space, Kaden could feel his husband’s pain as if it were his own. They’d shared their similar memories once Kaden was safely back within the confines of the palace, in the safety of his husband’s arms. The connection started with a spark the first time they touched and had only solidified and grown stronger with time. Stories of old that were coveted in the large libraries at each House told of people who were so in love with each other, so connected they could feel each other right down to their souls. Heightened senses of danger and pain involving their partner, connections so strong that
when one died, the other followed—as if they shared one soul and without both pieces tethering each other to the mortal world, both would cease to exist. This was how Kaden saw his relationship with Aiyan. They were tied together, irrevocably bound in this life and the next.
Kaden still carried the scars inflicted upon him at the hands of the Outkast, Cillian. The mental, physical, and emotional damage would forever be a part of Kaden now; they ran so deep. But then, so did retribution. One day he would face his captor again, and when he did, Kaden knew deep down he would do everything in his power to end Cillian’s life.
The air surrounding him stilled; the night went quiet. Blinking his eyes open, Kaden turned and smiled up at his husband. “Where were you just now?” Aiyan asked.
Kaden’s smile widened. “Right here with you, My Prince, always.”
Aiyan chuckled, turning and gently setting his violin down beside him before lowering himself to the ground, stretching his long body out beside Kaden. Brushing Kaden’s hair off his face, Aiyan leaned in for a kiss. When he pulled back, they lay there staring at each other for a few moments. “You know, this is where we shared our first kiss,” Aiyan whispered, running his thumb over Kaden’s bottom lip.
“I do. That night is forever imprinted in my mind, branded by the intensity of that kiss. I knew then, the moment our lips met the first time, my soul belonged to you, My Prince.” Kaden looked into his husband’s eyes, hoping Aiyan saw the truth in what he said in his own stare.
Aiyan rolled over on top of him, stealing a kiss that rivaled all others they’d shared—a mind blowing, toe curling, dick-hardening kiss that set Kaden on fire. When Aiyan broke away, lifting his head to look down at him, Kaden chased after his mouth, wanting more. Aiyan laughed. “Come, M’anam, let’s take this inside before I tear your clothes off and fuck you into the grass.”
“Please do.” Cirian’s stern Scottish lilt broke through the haze of lust that had settled over them like a warm blanket. It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over their heads.
Aiyan shrieked, rolling off Kaden and jumping to his feet, hand on the handle of the dagger he kept at his waist. “For fuck’s sake, Da, you scared the living shit out of me!”
Cirian rolled his eyes. “Well, perhaps if you two weren’t so busy molesting each other right out in the open for anyone to see, you’d have heard or seen us coming. Now get your arses inside before this goes any further and you frighten the flowers. Not to mention, we have a small boy living here now. Neither Tanis nor Raven would be pleased to have this conversation with Apollo so early in life.”
Rian stepped up beside his husband, clearing his throat loudly. “My Love, why do you always give our son and his beloved such a hard time about getting busy in the garden? I seem to recall a summer night when you and I were—”
“Okay then,” Aiyan barked, offering a hand to Kaden, jerking him upright before grabbing his violin then sprinting toward the palace.
Rian chuckled. “Well, that was easy.”
Cirian turned to face his husband, smiling, wrapping his arms around Rian’s waist before pulling him in for a kiss. Leaning back, Rian lifted one brow, glaring playfully at him. “Weren’t you just chastising our son for such deplorable behavior?”
One side of Cirian’s mouth lifted upward, the lopsided, devilish grin both inviting and promising. “Perhaps we should take this inside as well, My Love.”
***
Stepping out of the shower, Kaden dried off quickly, wrapping the towel around his waist then grabbing his toothbrush. He’d tried oh, so very hard to get Aiyan to join him in the shower. His husband had insisted on running down to the kitchen to grab them a snack since they’d skipped dinner, opting for a walk in the garden at dusk instead. Once he’d brushed his teeth and hair and relieved his bladder, Kaden stepped out of the bathroom into the bedroom and stopped. The room was now dark, sparsely lit by candles. Aiyan sat on the foot of their bed, which consisted of only several large wooden planks with the mattress on top. Three beds in, Maya refused to allow them another, their tendency to break things having pushed her to the breaking point as well.
There was a tray sitting on the bed beside Aiyan adorned with grapes, apples, cheese, sliced bread, and a carafe of red wine. Kaden watched with rapt attention as Aiyan stood and slowly walked toward him, a glass of wine in each hand. Smiling, he offered a glass to Kaden, toasting when Kaden accepted. “Happy Anniversary, M’anam.”
“Our Anniversary was weeks ago, My Prince,” Kaden reminded him before tipping the glass to his lips, sighing at the bittersweet flavors of chocolate, raspberries and just a hint of spice swirling around his tongue. Aiyan’s own blend of raspberry wine was Kaden’s favorite.
“I know,” Aiyan smiled, walking back over to the bed to grab the carafe, so he could fill their now-empty glasses. “Everything has been so hectic and chaotic what with Aiya’s pregnancy, bringing Pol to the palace, and preparing for Raven and Tanis’s official ceremony.” Aiyan paused, taking a sip of wine, uncertainty coloring his gorgeous brown eyes. “Will you sit with me?” he asked. Kaden nodded, reaching for Aiyan’s hand and leading him back to the bed. It wasn’t often his Aiyan showed any kind of doubt, so when he did, it worried Kaden. Instantly his mind went on the offensive, searching for the right words to say to wash away the uncertainty he saw in his husband’s eyes, in his demeanor.
They sat on the bed on opposite sides of the large tray of food, turning to face each other. Aiyan grinned, his adorable lopsided grin that could talk Kaden into anything before words were ever spoken. “I wanted to do something special but simple for you—for us. And as soon as you said you wanted to shower I knew it was the perfect time. I love you so much Kaden, and I’m sorry I didn’t at least tell you on the day of our first year. I, ummmm…well, I hope this can make up for it.”
Kaden reached for Aiyan’s glass, taking it and setting both glasses on the floor. He then shoved the tray of food to the other side of the bed and slid over to his husband, climbing into Aiyan’s lap and straddling him. He took Aiyan’s face in his hands and looked him directly in the eyes before speaking. “You tell me how much you love me every day, Aiyan, every goddamn day. It’s in the way you kiss me, touch me, the way you look at me and talk to me. It’s in every move
you make, My Prince, and I know. Trust me, I know.” He kissed his husband then, his fingers finding their way into Aiyan’s hair, grip tightening as the kiss intensified. When Aiyan thrust his hips up, his hard cock brushing along Kaden’s crease, Kaden threw his head back and moaned. The only thing separating skin-to-skin contact were the pants Aiyan wore and towel still wrapped around Kaden’s waist. Twin bulges were clearly evident, and Aiyan reached between their bodies, stroking Kaden through the cloth. Panting, Kaden tightened his hold on Aiyan’s shoulders, rocking his hips back and forth and moaning constantly.
“Jesus, you are so fucking sexy.” Aiyan growled, licking a path up Kaden’s neck to his ear, biting down hard.
“Fuuuuuuuuck. Naked, now!” Kaden barked, climbing off Aiyan’s lap and shoving him onto his back, reaching for the hem of his pants. He froze, slowly lifting his eyes to meet Aiyan’s again, smiling at him lovingly. “I haven’t seen these pants since our wedding night.”
Aiyan gave him a cocky grin, licking his lips lasciviously. “Well, I’ll let you have them. But only if you give me that towel.”