“Shit!” he hissed, darting back away from the cracked-open door.
Dagan held a finger up to his mouth and Jeret held his breath. Then Dagan did the unthinkable and reached out as the nurse passed to clamp a big hand over her mouth and yank her into the side chamber.
Jeret’s eyes flew wide and he quickly shut the door, spinning on Dagan, who held the struggling young woman tightly. “Are you out of your mind? Now she’ll tell!” Unless...no, Dagan wouldn’t just clobber her unconscious like he had the guard, would he?
“No, she won’t. Will you, darlin’?” Dagan glanced down at her and she shook her head frantically.
“She’s lying, duh!”
“Here are your choices, young lady. One, you run off screaming about intruders. Now, that will lead to us probably being captured, you maybe getting a small reward and this planet falling into the hands of a traitor. Or, two, you listen to me when I tell you to look closely at this man. Do you know who he is?”
The nurse’s wide, frightened eyes slid over to Jeret, staring for a minute before, abruptly, recognition burst in her expression and she nodded adamantly.
“Good girl. The king is ill, his son is here to reclaim his crown and to do that, we need you to please be quiet. Can you do that?”
She nodded again. His heart thudded as Dagan slowly eased his hand away, letting out a relieved breath when she didn’t immediately shriek for help. Instead, she rushed toward Jeret and dropped to her knees in front of him.
“Your Highness! The king has spent so many years mourning your loss! Thank you for coming back, thank you. It’s been his last wish.”
Jeret squirmed and reached down to urge her to her feet. “Well, he’s not dead, he doesn’t need a last wish yet, does he?”
Her eyes flicked up to his, her face full of sorrow and pity. “Perhaps you should see him and assess his condition yourself, Highness.”
Fuck. In other words, she didn’t want to be the messenger of doom, so to speak. His stomach clutched painfully. Was it really that bad? He glanced over at Dagan, who came forward and took his hand, letting him cling to it. Somehow the man always knew exactly what he needed.
“Stay here. Until we come back. Someone might get suspicious if you’re seen elsewhere when your duty is to be caring for the king.”
The young woman twisted her hands in her lap as she sat on a nearby chair. “I’ll wait right here.”
Jeret met Dagan’s eyes. “Dagan.”
He squeezed Jadi’s hand. “I’m here, Highness.”
Together, they slipped out of the room and into the hall. Jeret hesitated outside his father’s room. He remembered coming here as a child, running barefoot on the cold floor to scramble up into the monstrous bed where it was warm, with his mother and father. Then she had died and his father said he was too old for such nonsense. It occurred to him now, maybe too late, that his father’s preoccupation with him acting like a proper prince had really begun with his mother’s death. He’d been warm before.
They couldn’t linger and ponder the past, though, there was too much at stake. He shook off the memories and shoved the door open, the two of them easing through and shutting it behind them.
It was like stepping foot into a death chamber. In fact, it wasn’t like that, that’s exactly what it was. The smell of medicine and disinfectant was nearly overwhelming and he stopped just inside the door, unable to bring himself to move any closer. This wasn’t what he’d expected. Sick, sure, but dying? His father wasn’t the dying type.
Dagan didn’t let him just stand there. He moved toward the bed, bringing Jeret with him. It was all he could do to not drag his heels like a child. Instead, he took a deep breath and drew as much of Dagan’s strength through their clasped hands as he could. But when he laid eyes on his father for the first time in almost six years, it didn’t help. Nothing would have.
It was clear immediately that his father wasn’t going to be able to help them. He was wasted away, a shell of the strong, tall man he remembered. Jahan Adar wasn’t even there. This wasn’t him. His chest clenched painfully and he must have made some kind of sound because suddenly Dagan was there, arms around him, murmuring soothingly against his hair.
Jeret breathed him in, Dagan’s spice overwhelming the cloying scent of death that clung to the room. “It’s too late.”
Dagan squeezed him gently. “No it’s not. You’re here, talk to him. Let him know you came back. It was all he wanted, Jadikira. Give it to him.”
He glanced up at Dagan, then at his father and took a deep breath. Dagan was right. He owed his father the knowledge that his son hadn’t completely abandoned him or his people. Even if Jahan couldn’t hear him, he had to believe that some part of him might know. It was all he could do.
He swallowed hard and sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching out to cover his father’s hand. It was so thin, the skin like faded paper. Tears stung his eyes. “Father, I’m here. Can you hear me? It’s J—” He broke off, nearly choking on his false name. He hadn’t used any other in so long, but some part of him had, along the way, stopped rejecting who he’d been and begun to reconcile that person with who he’d become. He took a deep breath. “It’s Jadi. I’m home.”
Dagan’s hand was a warm, comforting weight on his shoulder. Jadi didn’t know how it was possible that a couple of hours ago he was sure Dagan hated him and now he stood there, a pillar of comfort and strength that made Jadi believe he could do what might be the hardest thing he’d ever done.
He couldn’t see any change at first, and his heart clenched. He really was too late. But he tried again, this time rubbing his father’s hand, hoping to stimulate some kind of response. “Papa. It’s Jadikira. Open your eyes, please. Just enough to know I’m back.”
Nothing. Jadi hung his head, finding it hard to breathe. The guilt threatened to swamp him. His pride, his lack of responsibility...all that wasn’t reason enough to lose the last bit of his father’s life. He barely remembered his mother, and now he had no one but himself to blame when the memories of his father began to fade even more than they already had.
Silence reigned in the king’s chambers. Minute after minute ticked by but nothing but the papery whistle of his father’s breathing filled the air.
Finally, Dagan squeezed his shoulder. “We should go, little bird.”
In another situation, Dagan using that nickname, one he hadn’t heard in years, might be sweet, even endearing. In this case Jadi knew he was using it as a comfort. Because his father was dying. Jadi stiffened, as if he could keep himself from crumbling, emotion swelling in him. “No!” His voice was a raspy whisper and he cleared his throat, trying to make it as firm as he could. “No.”
Dagan sighed softly, and reached over to gently pull Jadi’s hand from his father’s. “He’s not here, Jadikira. But he knows you came home. He knows. And he’s at peace wherever his spirit is now.”
Jadi looked up over his shoulder at Dagan, wanting so much to believe that was true. “How do you know?”
Dagan’s smile was so gentle, so soft, it was hard to believe it was even him. A younger, less jaded him, perhaps. “Because you are his heart. You always have been. And now that you’re here his heart is complete. And that would put any man at peace.”
Jadi glanced back down at his father, leaning low over the bed to press his lips to his father’s hand, eyes squeezed shut. “I love you. I love you, Papa.”
Dagan drew him gently away. “We have to leave. Someone will find us. Hurry, Highness.”
Jadi held tightly to Dagan’s hand as he cast one last look over his shoulder at his father. Then they were slipping out of the room and into the next door chamber. The nurse was gone and Jadi stilled. “She’s gone. Do you think...?”
Dagan cursed quietly. “We have to hurry. It’s possible she just returned to her other duties, but she might
have been found or she might be telling the guard about us. We can’t take any chances. Quickly, Jadi.”
Where their journey into the palace had been slow and stealthy, their exit was anything but. Instead it was hasty and messy and Jadi was shocked they didn’t turn some corner too fast and end up face-to-face with a herd of guards. Instead they were soon racing across the darkened gardens toward the Notch, where they found the unconscious guard right where they’d left him.
Jadi scrambled through the hole quickly and they must have loosened a bit of the ancient mortar and rock on the last pass, because Dagan didn’t get stuck, though it was still a painfully tight squeeze minus his shirt.
Dagan took his hand a split second before a series of bell chimes rang out. The melody was beautiful, but it struck ice into his heart and Jadi stumbled, hand to his stomach as he struggled to breathe. Those bells meant one thing and one thing only.
Death. His father was gone.
* * *
Dagan was never so grateful to see that run-down warehouse, urging Jadi inside and keeping his arm around his shoulders. Torin and Rain were there and rose to their feet, immediately sensing something was wrong.
“We heard some bells,” Rain murmured.
Dagan shook his head silently, hoping they’d understand. This was his job. Not as Jadi’s guard or as a bounty hunter, but as a friend and a lover. Jadi was his responsibility and it hadn’t been about a job in a very, very long time. Longer than Dagan really cared to admit.
When the door on the ship slid shut, sealing them off from the world, Dagan bent and cupped Jadi’s face, meeting his eyes when he looked up. “Tell me what I can do,” he pleaded softly. “Tell me what you need, Jadi.”
Jadi’s dark eyes were full of so many emotions. Guilt and pain and sadness and shame. Dagan wanted to take it all from him, wipe his conscience clean. But he knew more than most anyone that it wasn’t possible. Only Jadi could wash away his perceived sins.
Jadi didn’t answer. Or maybe he did, when in the next moment he stretched up and wrapped his arms around Dagan’s neck and kissed him. Dagan was startled at first, and then understanding hit. He closed his eyes and kissed Jadi back, lifting him off his feet and striding quickly to his quarters.
Jadi needed to not think about the pain. He wanted some time in purgatory, before the demons came for him in earnest, before he had to face the reality of the last hour or so. Dagan would gladly give him that.
The bed was soft and Jadi even softer, his mouth full of surrender and none of the spitting fire of before. Dagan’s heart ached for him, the kiss gentle and slow, his hands just as gentle when he eased the prince’s coat off, then his tunic. Jadi’s fingers were greedy, tugging open Dagan’s pants, sliding his shirt up and off, until they were chest to chest, Dagan’s pants open and Jadi’s halfway down his long legs already.
He broke the kiss, mouth sliding down along Jadi’s neck, his fingers splayed on his lean side and inching upward to brush Jadi’s nipple lightly. He smiled at the way Jadi arched and hissed in pleasure. He lifted his head, meeting Jadi’s eyes.
Jadi just shook his head. “Don’t say anything. I just want to feel, Dagan, please.”
It was impossible to deny a request like that, especially when Dagan was, he could no longer deny, head over ass in love with him. It was a pointless endeavor, logically, but since when did logic have any say in the heart? It certainly wasn’t going to start now.
So Dagan gave him what he asked for. No words, just feelings. He tried to pour every ounce of what he felt into his touch for Jadi to feel, to try and drown out the pain just for a little while. It couldn’t last forever, but it didn’t need to. He just had to get Jadi through this night.
He drew down Jadi’s pants, kneeling up to untie his boots and tug them off. As he struggled with the knots in the laces, Jadi didn’t say a word, his expression quiet and unreadable. But there was something warm there, something that said he was glad Dagan was with him right now, rather than anyone else. It made his chest tighten with emotion and when Jadi was finally naked, Dagan was grateful when he sat up and slid his arms around his neck.
“Kiss me.” It wasn’t a request and Dagan didn’t take it as one. Instead he slanted his mouth across Jadi’s and gave him the kiss he wanted. Christ, he’d give the boy anything, a kiss was the very least of it.
Jadi rolled him, an easy feat at the moment because Dagan was neck deep in ‘whatever the hell Jadi wants’ mode. Besides, it wasn’t exactly a hardship to have the most gorgeous runaway prince in all of the In-Between straddling him like he was about to get the ride of his life. Dagan was pretty sure that was exactly what he was going to get and he didn’t give a damn who was steering the ship.
His hands slid along Jadi’s thighs, smiling up at him. “I get the feeling this is your favorite.” His nails dragged lightly back down those strong, lean thighs.
Jadi’s gaze wandered over him and he let out a quiet sigh. “My favorite. Yes.”
Dagan smiled, knowing Jadi wasn’t talking about the position. “Mine too.”
Jadi’s breath hitched, their eyes meeting. “You can’t even stand me half the time. How can I be your favorite anything?”
The way he said it, so sure, made Dagan’s stomach turn. He reached up to cup Jadi’s cheek. “That’s not true. I crave you, Jadi, more than even I’ll admit. Ask me in the morning and I might deny I ever said it.” His lips quirked and so did Jadi’s.
“Me too.”
“You crave me or you’ll deny it?”
Jadi smiled then, a real smile, though his eyes retained their sadness. “Both.”
Dagan drew him down to nuzzle his lips. “Fair enough. But for right now, yes, you are my favorite thing.” And he was Jadi’s as well. It was a warm thought and their lips met over it, spreading the warmth like a blanket over them.
A moment later, Jadi broke the kiss and returned the favor of removing Dagan’s boots and pants before sliding back up over him. This time when he rolled his hips their cocks ground together deliciously. Dagan wanted to give Jadi the numbing pleasure he sought and reached down to cup his ass, rocking Jadi’s hips, giving them both the needed friction.
Before long, Jadi was panting, his eyes closed, lips parted and flushed a deep red. Maybe from the kisses, maybe from the way Jadi kept biting them, Dagan didn’t know. But damn, it was beyond tempting and he lifted his head to claim them in a slow kiss, tongue gliding deep in the same fluid rhythm of their hips rolling against each other.
He managed to reach over to the small table next to the bed and grabbed the lube. He sank two slick fingers into Jadi a second later and Dagan swallowed his deep moan of satisfaction. Christ, he was so tight, hot around Dagan’s fingers. It seemed like forever, not just days, since he’d experienced that pleasure and he couldn’t wait any longer to feel it again. He withdrew his fingers, smiling at the sound of loss Jadi made.
He gently turned Jadi on to his stomach and crawled up over him. His lips traveled up the sleek arch of his spine, pausing to nuzzle his nape as Dagan slid a knee between Jadi’s thighs, urging them wide open.
“I do crave you, little bird, so much.” He slid both hands down Jadi’s sides to his hips, smoothly lifting him to his knees as he feathered soft kisses against the side of his neck. He wanted nothing more than to be inside him.
Nothing felt better than that. The delicious warmth, the snug, slick grip of Jadi’s muscles around him. Dagan reached down between them, fingers working between the cheeks of Jadi’s ass, one long finger stroking over his hole.
“Tell me what it feels like when I push inside you.”
Jadi turned his head and opened his eyes, their gazes meeting through the shadows. He rocked his hips back, slow and easy, inviting Dagan’s finger deeper inside. “It feels like I was waiting for you, if that makes any sense. You said you’d give your life
for mine.” He met Dagan’s eyes. “What if I don’t want your life?”
“What do you want?” Dagan would give him anything in that moment, the stars if he could reach up and grab a few.
“You.”
That one word sucked the oxygen right out of the entire ship, as if someone had blown an air lock in deep space. Jadi didn’t mean physically—they were about to be joined in the most intimate way possible. The world went still and Dagan slid his arm around his waist, pulling him back against himself tighter. Something else became crystal clear to him then.
Jadi wasn’t the only one who’d been waiting.
“You have me, Jadikira. You always have me.”
There was so much more happening here than just sex. It was unexpected and frightening and beautiful at the same time. Dagan felt like someone who’d spent a lifetime worshipping at the temple of some mythical god and now here he was, come to life and doing some worshipping of his own. That was the kind of untouchable Jadi had always been.
Now he was anything but untouchable.
Dagan stretched out over him, chest to back, covering him and nudging his thighs wide as he reached between them to guide his cock against Jadi’s entrance. He didn’t say anything, because what was there to say that his body couldn’t communicate for him? So he turned his face into Jadi’s neck, nuzzling as he began to slowly penetrate him.
It was an astounding feeling. The slight resistance and then surrendering give of the tight ring of muscle, followed by scorching heat and a snug grip made slick with lube. The sensation of belonging—that this was where he was meant to be, who he was always meant to be a part of.
He didn’t speak, but he told Jadi with every brush of his lips, every rock of his hips to sink himself deeper inside him, just how he felt. Every bit of the love that seemed too big to hold in.
Jadi reached one hand back, and Dagan smiled, fingers wrapped around his. He gave one last, rocking thrust and slid fully inside him, making them both moan.
“Oh, that’s perfect—” Jadi began. Dagan cut him off with a finger pressed to his lips.
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