"So since I'm your lover and all…" Arieve traced circles over Mayr's chest. "Please tell me I can expect a repeat of you two together like that." She kissed his neck and smiled lazily. "This wasn't a special occasion, was it?"
A throaty laugh burst from Mayr. "Trust me, love, you're the most specialest occasion here. You and your mouth and your beautiful—" His hand slipped between her legs, making her whimper while he fingered her. "Expect plenty of repeats," he said as she moaned and squirmed. "It's the norm for us, me taking all he's got. Maybe not so fast, but tonight it's all you. The things you do to me… us…" He pulled his fingers from Arieve and wiped them on his stomach. His other arm curled around her back as he played with wisps of her hair. "We switch things up occasionally, but this is how I like it. Tash prefers top."
Arieve glanced at Tash, shivering as she clung to Mayr. "Yeah?"
Tash shrugged. "I enjoy giving, especially with him. Since we met, I knew he'd look gorgeous splayed, spent, and raw beneath me."
Mayr grunted. "Yeah, and then I waited forever for you to do it. You kept teasing."
"I didn't want our first time to be cheap." Tash slipped his knee between Mayr's legs before tracing the contours of Mayr's stomach with his fingertips. "I love your whimpers and cries," he said, stroking Mayr's cock, delighted by the arousal it stirred. "When you're rocking and gripping, unable to stay in one place, needing me in you. Then when you finally break, you're all unfettered, clenching and scratching and taking everything like you've done it all your life." He drew his fingertips over Mayr's lips. "That's what I wanted, what I wished for. Nothing else matters."
Catching Arieve's warm gaze, Tash cupped her cheek. "Nothing except what we have right now: an opportunity to explore love in all its meanings."
Arieve leaned into his touch and clasped his wrist. "Blessed be love and hearts so entwined?"
"Blessed be," Tash echoed, leaning over Mayr to kiss Arieve, comforted by the sentiment. They need not tear a hole in love to allow her in: she had already found a way to exist around and between them. Whatever their future, hope had woven her through their hearts—a last thread to pull all others together.
Chapter Nine
Blood, so much of it, streaming down the middle of the cobblestone street, slipping through the cracks. Too much for a severed limb but enough for a body, one that used to be whole instead of the hastily slashed flesh and bone that dangled for all to see. Hanging and swinging back and forth, Tash stared through death, barbed rope looped around his neck. With his dulled blue eyes sewn open, he was forever lost in eternal night.
An inhuman scream ripped through Mayr. A violent sound no living thing could make, it burned his throat like liquid fire and shredded skin all the way up, forcing blood to his lips. No amount of begging "Take me in his stead!" had stopped the torment. No assault against Tash's slayers had mattered: weapons never harmed the shadows. They countered Mayr's every tactic as if he were a toddler trying to kick down a giant. His knuckles were torn apart, shattered bones peeking through, as useless as the rest of his broken body.
Nothing was as broken as his heart. They had left that for him, an ugly sac of misery pounding beneath never-ending bruises and battered breastbone. Death stabbed him, stealing what remained of the splintered life that beat inside. Torture so foul he already felt his place in the Realm of the Dead, flirting with it, staking his claim, writing his name in the blood pooled around his weary feet as his last act.
The torture Tash had endured held a special place in cruelty's domain. There was no last act. No last word. Stolen, everything stolen…
The Shar-denn had collected what was theirs… and the only way out was dead.
Another scream raged through Mayr, pitched loud and high, dropping him to his knees—the sound of his soul going up in flames like Tash's body.
Red. There was too much red. Red blood on a red street. Red-ringed moon bleeding through what was left of his bloodied vision. Red-orange fire devouring his love without remorse. The red long coats of the faction bosses, stretching, cracking, moving with the chains they twirled and flicked. Their one last shot at the man they loathed for escaping their grasp. Shar-denn justice and the death of everything he loved.
The death of love itself.
And in the street, a single white feather sank beneath the deluge…
Mayr forced his eyes open faster than he could draw breath.
The sunlit room spun. The dark red ceiling haunted his blurred sight. The scent of fire seared his nostrils. His head burned, sharp pains laying waste to his focus in flashes, and his heart raced too hard to be anything but alive. His stomach churned, the rest of his insides coiled tight. Acid crept up his throat and scorched as he swallowed it down.
A dream. A horrible, gods-awful dream.
The fourth dream in two weeks to have ended in Tash's death. They were not getting easier to tolerate.
They're just getting worse. Mayr dragged his hands over his face and bit back a groan. The last time he was awake, he watched Tash finish prayers and stoke the fire before returning to bed. Mayr had gone back to sleep with Arieve in his arms, one of his hands in Tash's.
He felt as though he'd not slept at all.
Disgusted, he glanced beside him. Tash lay on his back on the other side of the bed, one arm curled above his head and the other around Arieve's back. Arieve slept on her side between them, her head on Tash's shoulder, one hand on his chest. Her dark hair cascaded over the white sheet twisted around her, the messy curls not far from Mayr's shoulder.
The familiar image struck a nasty chord in Mayr's gut. In the four weeks since first sharing their bed with Arieve, he and Tash constantly kept her between them while they slept. They had laughed at the tendency, insisting Arieve would always be protected.
The nightmares made it less of a laughing matter. It was a necessity.
If I can't protect him, how is she any better off? She's involved now. If something happens to him… to us…
Tash stirred and twitched. His fingers grazed Mayr's arm.
Nausea hit hard and fast, forcing the contents of Mayr's stomach where they did not belong. Wrist against his mouth, Mayr dashed from the bed to the bucket in the furthest corner of the room. Gagging on everything that came up, he cursed his weaknesses. The thought of losing Tash in brutal ways would never settle right. If Tash were caught…
Mayr choked on bile, his throat scorched and raw. He needed to hit something.
Shame that dirty rat Allon's stuck in prison—I'd love to rearrange his face. Mayr spat out the foul taste in his mouth and wiped his lips. Ae's brother or not, I'd love to finally break his filthy neck. I'm riled up enough to make it hurt real good. With a grimace, he pushed up from the floor. Except the coward's not here, so I'm stuck with people who don't deserve to go down. He studied his shaking hands. Too much rage today. I can't even begin to put Pell at the other end of it.
Quiet as he could, Mayr hurried to the table to wash his face. Gripping the bowl in both hands, he stared past the water to the silver bottom. His sight slid out of focus. The silence was all wrong. He was in knots, tied from mind to motion. His skin felt too tight, too small to fit.
The price of paranoia: what it can't reap from your consciousness it takes from everything else.
It was a price he could not keep paying.
As if I have a choice. For weeks, he had tried to ignore his worries about the Shar-denn's silence. He had toyed with the distractions and splinters in his attention, focusing on the good things he needed to nurture, not sacrifice.
Except the longer he avoided his doubts, the more his nightmares assaulted him. Reports from the other four tracts suggested the Shar-denn was quiet only in Gailarin. The Tract Stewards claimed the rates of crime and violence still climbed, consistent with their monthly and yearly accounts. Despite the decrease in arrests in Gailarin, several low-level gang members had been caught elsewhere, proving the gang remained intact.
Whatever the problem, it was limit
ed to Gailarin. A blessing, the High Council had called it.
Sure, because blessings usually feel like a portent in disguise.
The lack of arrests was nothing to overlook, its significance meaningless without understanding why. From the details provided by Adren and Ress, there were enough gang members to keep a hundred bounty hunters busy for the whole of their lives. Gailarin was the prime tract in Kattal, hosting both the seats of the High Council and the governing assemblies, as well as being the centre of trade and economy. It was logical for the Shar-denn to operate heavily in the region. Two hundred gang members could easily do the damage they had.
Yet the latest raids had turned up abandoned houses. The hunters had nothing to track those who should have been there. Even Adren and Ress were at a loss for new leads, saying the Shar-denn had gone into hiding—but where and why now? They frequently taunted High Council and law enforcement, deliberate moves in the Shar-denn's game. The crimes themselves were often invisible but not the disorder. Without the chaos, what did they have left?
They were up to something, but Mayr could not prove it. Most of the High Council scoffed at his concern. Only Severn entertained Mayr's worries, combining her distaste for criminals with her own suspicions. While Aeley and the bounty hunters agreed with him, no one offered a better plan of action than protecting Adren and Ress. If the Shar-denn struck back, they would attack Adren first. As the child of a former faction boss, Adren was the most valuable. Ce knew enough to sink at least three factions and dozens of acquaintances—many that had vanished, taking their work with them.
The best Mayr could do was be vigilant and hold onto Tash as though he would die at any moment. Arieve too, because if the Shar ever found out about her…
Losing them was not an option.
He snatched the towel beside the washing bowl and dried his face, then glanced at the bed. His gaze followed the curves of Tash and Arieve's bodies, yearning to touch. They're everything worth fighting for.
Mayr sighed into the towel, his eyes squeezed shut. More than once, he had feared being with Tash would lock him up in the chains of obligation and habit, paired with expectations and demands he could not meet.
Instead, he felt liberated. They did things together he never would have done on his own. That's how safe I feel with him. Mayr tossed the towel onto the table. That's what I want to share with Arieve—how good it can be. She's already been hurt, treated like she's not enough. I want her to know she's more than that, just like he's teaching me I am.
He crossed the room to the window and swept back one of the curtains. Frost framed the blue-green windowpane. Snow blanketed the yard and trees below, sunlight reflecting off its pristine surface. An image of calm he wished he could be.
What peace he had was wrapped up in Tash and Arieve. In their safety, in their slumber, in the comfort they offered. Through them he saw the rest of himself: his fears, his secret wishes, and everything that hid deep inside. Together, Tash and Arieve were gently unraveling the most vulnerable parts of him.
Arms folded, Mayr smiled at the flecks of snow that floated through the sky. He had been terrified to pursue Arieve, but Tash had discovered the bit of courage Mayr had stuffed away. Even more, Tash encouraged him. There was no pressure, no shame, and no ultimatum. Mayr was free to share his feelings instead of locking them away.
Marrying you is the best choice I have. Mayr studied his ring, flicking his finger to catch the light.
Feet padded across the floor behind him. Arms encircled Mayr, one sliding over his waist. A hand grasped his and entwined their fingers, matching rings on display side by side.
"I'll kiss it better, whatever it is," Tash whispered, kissing Mayr's neck. He drew Mayr's arms across Mayr's chest and squeezed, his naked body flush to Mayr's. "Come back to bed. Let us ease your burdens." His beard scraped Mayr's shoulder lightly, his cheek a welcome pressure on Mayr's skin.
Shivers rushed through Mayr from Tash's heat—he was colder than he realized. Eyes closed, he rested his head on Tash's shoulder and clasped Tash's arms. A content sigh slipped from Mayr as he leaned into the embrace. Did Tash realize how perfect his timing often was? How accurately he read Mayr and offered precisely what was needed? Or was it by intuition alone?
"We've slept late as is," Mayr murmured. "You're supposed to be at the temple."
"This afternoon, yes." Tash combed his fingers through Mayr's disheveled hair, tender as he worked around the tangles. "But morning isn't done, not until you tell me what's wrong or come back to bed—preferably both."
Tempting as that is…
"Nothing," Mayr lied. "I'm fine."
"So retching is something to do for fun now?"
"No, it means I'm coming down with something." Mayr bit the inside of his cheek. The last thing he needed was to worry Tash more than he already did. After twenty-three years of the Shar-denn, Tash needed better.
"I suppose you're right… if lying can be considered an illness."
Mayr held back a frustrated breath but whimpered as Tash nibbled his earlobe.
"Keep your secrets for now," Tash whispered. "I'll be waiting to hear them, to make them my secrets."
The grind of Tash's hips against his did nothing to stop Mayr's moan. "Not fair."
"Completely fair." Tash gripped Mayr's hand. "Come, lie down. Maybe you'll feel like talking afterwards."
"Is this a bribe?" Mayr followed Tash to the bed. "You might have to up the payment."
Arieve rolled onto her back, arms stretched above her head. "No one's upping anything until you've washed and eaten something that tastes amazing." She yawned and arched into another stretch. "And priests don't bribe. They entreat with all the sneaky grace of the Goddesses."
Tash laughed and slipped into the bed. "What can I say? It's a skill."
"Mm, I'm sure. It's probably your first lesson." Arieve shuffled up the centre of the mattress, dragging blankets around her. "Morning, by the way."
"Sorry we woke you." With playful tugs on the blankets, Mayr slid beneath what remained of them on his side of the bed. "I'll make it up to you, promise."
"Not necessary," Arieve argued. She sat up and punched pillows into place behind her. "I like seeing you together." Settled against the pillows, she drew up her knees and rested her arms across them. "I've been in your bed nearly every night for a while now, but I'm trying to give you time for yourselves. You need to have your own space, your own time to work things out." She cupped Mayr's cheek and caressed his lips with her thumb. "There's a time for us and a time for you. We need to balance both."
Mayr snorted and propped up on one elbow. "You sound like him," he said, motioning to Tash.
"That's probably why we get on so well." Arieve clutched Tash's hand against her knee before grasping Mayr's fingers. "I don't want to mess up our relationship, but I definitely don't want to ruin what you have. Not that I don't want to share in it—I do. I wish I could have what you have," she whispered. Sadness crept into her gaze and lingered. "The kind of love everyone can see—the kind that rolls off you. Being here is the closest I've been to having that. It feels so good being wrapped up in all this, like I'm holding love in my hands. It's real, untouchable, yet so strong it defies everything."
Mayr stiffened. He knew that tone. The way her glance dragged over his face then plummeted to the bed. The nervous way she toyed with the blankets, scrunching them and smoothing them out.
"But…?" he prompted.
"But…" Arieve sighed and growled her frustration. She kicked away the blankets and climbed onto Mayr, rolling him onto his back. Gripping his hands, she straddled his hips, then pushed and pulled his arms in an attempt to play. "I have to talk to you, and it's… complicated."
"We're well-versed in complicated." Tash moved across the bed and settled against Mayr's side. He coiled the ends of Arieve's hair around his fingers. "If you say whatever it is, we have a better chance of helping."
Arieve eyed him, weary and doleful. Silence crawled with the w
eight of the truth she seemed to debate. Her hands went lax in Mayr's. "Coye came to see me a few days ago."
Mayr ground his teeth and held Arieve's fingers to his chest. If he and Coye were ever locked in the same room, things would go poorly. When Arieve had first fallen for Coye six years earlier, he had hoped for the best. For two years, Coye doted on her, making her smile and laugh, giving Arieve everything she deserved… until she left abruptly, abandoning Arieve with vague excuses in a hasty note. Coye said she was confused, messed up, and lost—she needed to escape Arieve to find what was missing. Or, as Coye had written without any measure of kindness: I need to stop wasting my time. I'm not finding me when I'm stuck down with you.
The night Coye left, and for two nights afterwards, Mayr had stayed with Arieve in her room at Orae's house, holding Arieve while she cried herself to sleep.
Six months later, Coye returned, equipped with apologies. Despite Mayr's concerns, Arieve all but ran into Coye's arms.
She was out of them almost as quickly. Another breakup befell them after six months. Subjected to a new variation of the same excuses, Arieve wept over Coye again. Once more, Mayr offered his sympathy, cursing Coye's foolishness and his own.
Nevertheless, just as Coye could not commit to Arieve, she could not stay away. She returned and sought Arieve's affections at least twice more before scampering off. From what Mayr could tell, Coye had no more interest in finding herself than she did making Arieve happy.
As much as he wished he could have run Coye off permanently, he kept to himself for Arieve's sake. Given how well she knew him, Arieve had made Mayr promise he would leave Coye alone. Against his instincts, he had agreed. Confronting Coye would achieve nothing but Arieve's fury and disappointment. Unlike Coye, he knew exactly what he had in Arieve.
"What did she want?" Mayr managed, unclenching his jaws.
"She heard the gossip about us in the village. She wanted to know if it was true." Arieve traced paths along Mayr's stomach. "So I told her."
Mayr groaned and covered his eyes with both hands. He knew the look on her face—the same wounded glance she had whenever she tripped back into love. "Now she wants you back."
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