"She's been groveling," Arieve whispered. "Real good too—I swear her knees are bleeding from dragging around on them. I'm trying not to listen, but the begging…" Arieve shook her head. "I liked it at first, but now it's just painful. Every morning, afternoon, and night for the last three days, I've gotten letters saying how foolish she's been. How she's not as important as she thought she was—that what we had is better. She insists she'll prove it, no tricks. Says she loves me and wants to take care of me—with a home and everything. "
"Arieve…" Mayr peeked between his fingers. Because of course this would happen now, just when I thought we'd figured it all out.
"I know." Tears pooled in Arieve's eyes. "I'm the foolish one, but I can't… I can't." She hung her head. "Here I am, ruining things with you. I'm so happy with what we have—I'd die if I lost you—but I can't help wanting to give her a final chance. I know it'll be useless, but I want to know if… just if." Her voice cracked. Curling into herself, Arieve sobbed into her hands. "I'm so stuck. I love you—I love this—but I love her too. If I don't try this time, I'll likely lose Coye forever. It'll be my biggest regret." She wept harder. "I just don't want to give this up."
Tash's arms were around her before Mayr blinked.
"I've got you," Tash said, drawing her off Mayr. On his knees, he cradled her head to his chest and whispered soothing words, his sympathetic glance landing on Mayr.
The fact Arieve cried harder while she clutched Tash did not escape Mayr. Nor did Tash's expectant look.
Mayr grit his teeth. He wanted to refuse the suggestion in Tash's eyes, an echo of the idea that danced around in Mayr's thoughts. He loathed Coye. If Arieve would not stand up for herself, he needed to do it. If Arieve could not manage the word no, Mayr would say it for her. As her lover, it was only fair.
But then I'd be making decisions for you, and that won't ever do. Better than anyone, he knew how it felt to be at the mercy of someone who made the most important decisions without him, acting behind his back and throwing it in his face. Betta, Sarene, other women he had courted—even Tash had done it. I won't do the same to you. I can't.
The thought punched his gut like a thousand fists. He wanted her to be herself with him and Tash, but giving up what made her happiest had never been the intention. They could demand she carve out the part of her heart that belonged to Coye and discard it, but it was not their right. Arieve's heart was hers to command, so patient and loving she accepted both Mayr and Tash.
He knew what she needed to hear. The words chased each other in his thoughts, pushing at his tongue to say them. Regardless of the disgust he needed to choke back, he had to tell her. Despite the urge to drag Coye into a pit of tar, he had to let Arieve make her own decision.
Doesn't mean I have to like it, Mayr countered as Arieve sagged into Tash's caresses down her back and arms. I'll be damned if I give you up that easily, and Tash is just as stubborn. We committed to this. Coye can kiss my bitter ass if she can't take it. I had you first.
"Hey now." Mayr pried Arieve's hands from her face. When she resisted, he pulled harder. "No need to close the door on us when we've gone and torn the hinges off. Especially me, because you know I can't be trusted with tools."
Arieve croaked out a laugh. Between sniffles, she sucked in shallow breaths. Her hands trembled as they parted from her face, her cheeks flushed and wet. "Don't look." She whimpered and twisted away. "I'm a mess."
"I've seen this side of you a hundred times." Mayr turned her towards him.
"Yeah, but we weren't sleeping together then. This is just embarrassing." Arieve wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. Tears flowed faster the more she tried to stop them.
"Or it's a symptom of trust," Tash argued. He held her closer, his body wrapped around hers as she settled between his raised knees. "If you don’t feel comfortable enough to cry in our arms, we aren't taking very good care of you."
Mayr kissed Arieve's knuckles. "Don't worry about losing us. We won't leave you. I've always been here, and Tash… once he promises to stay in your life, he does. There's always a part of him that holds on so you can find your way back."
Tash pressed his cheek to Arieve's, his arms crossed over her chest. "We understand your pain. We know what it's like to love someone despite their failings. We nearly broke ourselves just to find someone who takes us for everything we are, but we found it, and we've fought hard to keep it, even against death itself," he whispered. "That's what we have—the love you want so deeply—and it came at the price of doing what hurt the most. We had to suffer to feel this good."
"Not that we need to revisit it right now," Mayr muttered. Some things were best forgotten, especially on a day he had hurled his stomach into a bucket. He lifted Arieve's chin, stealing her gaze. "What he's trying to say is if you want this chance with Coye, take it. We'll live with it. And if—if—she messes it all up, we'll be here to put you back together. We're not going anywhere."
It's only fair. We can't deny you your love when you're letting us have ours. Mayr stifled a sigh. He would rather heal her sadness than rip away her joy.
No matter what Coye did, he knew where his heart was.
*~*~*
The next week did nothing to improve Mayr's mood. By the end of it, he wanted—needed—to smash open his skull and release the foulness within.
Mayr buried his face in his folded arms and squeezed his eyes shut against the headache throbbing from one temple to the other. Alone in his office in the Guard House, he hunched over his desk in what was usually the most comfortable chair in the building. Every part of him hated the sitting. His muscles pulled, wrapped in knots so tight they could snap if he twisted wrong. His legs shook as if insects crawled under his skin, their tiny limbs ripping up nerves while they scurried in circles.
Standing was worse. Standing meant looking like rubbish and inviting everyone to question his health. Tash already pestered him enough. Had Arieve stayed overnight instead of returning to Orae's, her inquiries would have pummeled him further.
He had no interest in talking about his persistent nightmares and their lingering effects. Since the nightmare where Tash had been hacked apart and dangling from a noose, three more had hit. Every other morning, they tore holes into his bleary sanity. Talking would not stop them. Only overcoming what prompted his fear could put them to rest.
Except the more I search for solutions, the fewer answers I have. Mayr cursed into his bracer and gently bounced his head on his arm. Each day felt worse. The best sleep he could manage was in the short bouts he stole when no one was looking: in his office, Aeley's study, or the occasional secluded corner—anywhere but his own bed. The nights were unpredictable, a negotiation among tossing, turning, and terrified horror.
After three weeks, he was running out of excuses to hide the truth.
Mayr leaned back and covered his eyes with his interlaced fingers, blocking out the early afternoon light. That morning's nightmare had begun as his wedding but burst into a full Shar-denn attack, ending with the estate in ruins, Tash, Ress, and Adren in the clutches of brutal captors, and a call for payment on Arieve with the intention to sell her to the highest bidder. Severn just stood there the whole time, letting the bastards hack everything up—cake, flowers, and all. Guess I hate her more than I thought. Mayr snorted. Who am I kidding? I hate the whole damn Council, letting the Shar get so much power. They can't even round perpetrators up without hunters holding their useless hands. Meanwhile Severn thinks I'm a problem? Ha! Guess they don't give Councilmen mirrors.
At least Ress agreed with him: the Shar-denn would not go down quietly. Any end to their organization would be violent, and no one could predict the amount of suffering.
Mayr growled and kicked his desk, then threw his glance around the room. Small but sufficient, the office was on the main level of the Guard House, just off of the main staircase, down the corridor from the communal kitchen and dining hall. Private quarters dominated the three floors above, each floor sectioned in
to thirty small rooms that could be shared by two guards comfortably, three during emergencies. Of the one hundred and fifty guards currently in employ, only half lived in the Guard House. The others preferred to live with their families in Dahena or the surrounding villages.
On the floor below were a fully stocked cellar, storage rooms, and an extensive space divided into four sections for training and exercise. The level below that was rarely used but often tended. Reserved for refuge during attack, those rooms had thick metal doors, strong bolts, and hidden caches of weapons.
Unlike the main house, the Guard House was far from lavish. Built before the Dahe family had garnered enough prestige and wealth to afford elegance, the smaller house had evolved as the need for a larger, stable guard arose. To that end, the Guard House was mere paces away from the main building.
Mayr's office was just as modest. He had inherited the room like his predecessors, along with the worn black desk and its tricky drawers, old red chairs and their matching ragged settee, and faded green curtains. The wall-to-wall bookshelves drooped under the weight of volumes accumulated over generations. The red stain on the light brown walls had faded, leaving dents and scrapes and scuffs on display.
Only the chair behind the desk belonged to him—a necessity he insisted on. Gone were the days he was on his feet for most of his waking hours: as Head of the Guard, he spent more time in his office than he wanted. Orders, reports, and correspondence never wrote or read themselves. No matter how much he wished or stared at them, they never disappeared. He relished the chance to spar and move, to find relief in the training he was accustomed to. Pellon was his greatest adversary in the ring, even more than other guards they had grown up with, guards Mayr trusted implicitly to follow his lead in protecting Aeley and those under her care.
Unless I'm being a complete idiot—then they put me into place. Mayr attempted a laugh but surrendered to a groan, one hand pressed to his aching eyes. Definitely not a day for reminiscing.
Nor was it a day for visitors. Still, the door rattled under several knocks, reminding him he was supposed to be documenting intelligence for his upcoming meeting with the High Council.
"What?" Mayr hollered. "You'd better make it good or I'm kicking your ass."
The door squeaked open. "How about kissing it instead?" Arieve peered into the room. "I'll present it real nice and everything."
Mayr jumped up. Dizziness nearly sent him back down. "Sorry, I didn't realize. Here, let me—" He hurried to grab the door, watching the wooden tray in her hands.
Arieve's delighted laugh reverberated through him and soothed his pains like a cool salve on fiery wounds. "It's fine. I'm serious, though, because your lips in all the right places…" She winked and sashayed to his desk, the snap of her hips hitting every salacious note inside him. "I'll take whatever I can get."
"You should tell Tash," Mayr said hoarsely, his mouth dry. He cleared his throat and closed the door. "He'll lick you from head to toe and make you beg for more."
In few steps, he was with her. Arms wrapped around her waist, he inhaled the sweet perfume scenting her neck and upswept hair. The thick fabric of her dark blue, floor-length dress under her orange-red shawl and white apron did nothing to stop him from remembering the feel of her sweat-slicked skin on his. He wanted her as badly as he wanted to be unconscious. If the universe was kind, it would knock him out soundly while he lay in the combined warmth of Tash and Arieve. Tash, his future and the one who offered him all the limitless understanding to be himself, and Arieve, a beautiful reflection of the past that anchored him to who he had always wanted to be.
"I'll have to try that. I know how much you love watching." Arieve turned to lock her arms around his neck before she trailed kisses along his jaw. "For now, I've brought you a snack." With the flick of her wrist, she gestured to the tray on the desk. A full tankard sat beside a plate of dried meat, cheese, and bread slathered in minced vegetables and thick cream. "Apparently you ate nothing at breakfast, and that's just insulting. This should tide you over until dinner."
Mayr offered her thanks in the form of a tender kiss. His tongue roved over hers as he slipped his hands down her back, holding tight but hesitant to go further. He yearned to strip her bare and make love to her on the settee, to thrust and tease and make her wail his name for the whole house to hear.
Not without him. Not here, not now.
Without Tash, the motions would feel incomplete, as if he were missing crucial pieces of himself—including the part that loved her without apology, a strand of brilliant colour among the rainbow of details. Arieve was a glimmering thread entwined with the rest of Mayr's soul that Tash had dug out of the mud, rinsed in a waterfall of faith, and sewn back together to make him whole. Now the bit of Mayr that belonged to Arieve was bound between him and Tash, a part of them both.
"Thanks for taking care of me," Mayr murmured, giving into an easy smile. "How was your night at the tavern? How's Orae? We missed you. We came up with a hundred ways to prove how much, including crashing the tavern and bringing you home."
A blush crept across Arieve's cheeks. "That's sweet, and Grandmother's fine, but I wasn't working. I was with Coye." She clenched his arms as though she anticipated a rant. "Just talking, and maybe there was a kiss."
"So you've made your choice?"
Arieve picked at Mayr's black, long-sleeved tunic and thick, black vest. "We'll see how it goes. How much she truly wants me." She flattened her hands on his chest. "You're my focus. I'm not giving you up, not when I finally have you," she assured him, stealing a long kiss. Their lips played slowly, finding a rhythm as they danced over angles.
Parting took away more than Mayr's breath: his aches eased and loosened, allowing him to blink without the urge to fall over.
"I have to get back to the kitchen. See you at dinner." After another kiss, Arieve flounced out of the office and pulled the door closed.
She left him staring at the door, her savoury taste still on his tongue. He needed more than one moment to recall the records he had to assemble by morning. The meeting was scheduled for noon, requiring the usual carriage ride to Vasserey Call, the city that was home to both the High Council and the Sacred Assembly. Between his regular duties and time spent with Aeley, Tash, Arieve, and everyone else, he had finished only half of the documents he intended to take. Lack of focus due to compromised sleep had not helped.
With curses on the tip of his tongue, he settled at his desk and flipped through stacks of notes from Ress and Adren, grateful their writing was easy to decipher. The last thing he needed was the return of the pain Arieve had soothed.
It was a wish easily made but not granted. Not long after Arieve's departure, more knocks sounded on the door. Heavy, determined.
"I'm dead," Mayr shouted. "Come back later."
"Great, now she's sucking off a corpse," a low voice with feminine air drawled as the door opened. "That makes it so much better."
Repressed rage numbed Mayr. Its tingling bite skittered from his fists to his tightening chest. "Coye," he sneered, pushing up from his desk.
The door closed loudly behind her. "It's been a while," Coye said. She stopped in the middle of the room, dressed in two thick brown cloaks and layers of fawn and grey clothes. Her golden-blonde hair was longer than he remembered, curled tightly around her ears and neck rather than cropped close to her scalp as it had been, but the darkness of her green eyes and the thin line of black paint around them remained the same. Although most of her deep tan skin was hidden, she appeared to have lost none of her muscular frame developed from tree felling as a logger.
Because if there's anything she knows, it's killing things and running away.
Mayr crossed his arms and pressed his thighs to the desk, determined not to move. "To what do I owe this honour?"
Coye snorted. "Like you don't know." She cleared her throat, her expression softening. "I love Arieve. Might not seem like it, but I do. She says she'll give me one last chance…but that she's staying
with you, even if we get back together." Her face lowered with her gaze. Taking a shaky breath, she raised her chin and pulled back her shoulders. "I'm here to beg you to let her go. Not asking you to stop being friends, only lovers. I want to take care of her, but I need you to step back and let it happen. Let us be happy. It won't work if I have to compete with you."
"Competition?" Mayr laughed. "Out of everything, that's what you're worried about?"
Lips in a grim line, Coye narrowed her eyes. "There can't be us if she's stuck on you. I'm here now. I can give her everything she wants. She doesn't have to settle for whatever you are. But instead of her dropping your ass, I'm the one who has to play second favourite. Or third, considering the situation, you greedy bastard." Her lip curled. "I can either accept that she's sleeping with you or leave her be. Or I can throw away my last shred of dignity and ask you to leave her so we have a better chance. Funny, I kind of hate all the options."
"Funny, I don't care." Mayr gritted his teeth. "I'm not making the hard decisions for you, and I'm not leaving her. She's made it clear she wants to be with us—there's no way I'm fighting that. I'll give her whatever she wants. Arieve told you her choice. Go take this up with her."
Emotions collided on Coye's face, clouded by a flash of rage. A dark flush shot across her cheeks. "That's how much you care, isn't it? So much you'll dump your selfishness on her because you're not man enough to back off!"
Snow flicked from Coye's boots as she stomped closer. "Do you even know what makes her heart beat faster? Everything that makes her laugh so hard she's crying and dance so funny she falls over? Has she told you her secrets, like she's afraid of watching her family grow old and die because she can't do anything about it? That she's worked hard to make sure they always have the best they can?" Coye waved her hands erratically. "Do you even know how to take care of her other than spreading her legs? Because that's what she is to you, isn't she? Just a place to stick it because your man isn't good enough!"
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