The Wolf and the Sparrow

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The Wolf and the Sparrow Page 23

by Isabelle Adler


  “I’m sorry,” Derek said smugly.

  “Don’t be. It feels good, giving your lover exactly what they want.”

  Lover. The choice of word was strange between husbands, but perhaps not so incongruous after all. It could have a thousand different meanings, but only one that really mattered at the moment. Derek lifted his hand to trace the line of Callan’s jaw, the morning stubble prickling his fingertips.

  “And what do you want?”

  Callan leaned closer, the warmth of his solid body a lure Derek couldn’t resist.

  “I want to kiss you.”

  “Then kiss me.”

  The touch of their lips was unexpectedly light. Callan explored his mouth with a gentleness so unlike their earlier frenzy, and Derek responded with the same unhurried curiosity. With the flare of their lust effectively sated, they now took their time reveling in the simple pleasure of a shared kiss, tasting each other anew, as if for the first time.

  They were both a little breathless when they broke off.

  “What you do to me,” Callan murmured in his ear, sounding rueful.

  “Whatever you want me to,” Derek said and was rewarded by an actual shiver that ran through Callan’s body.

  “We have to get up, unfortunately,” Callan said, sitting up on the bed with a sigh and then lowering his legs to the floor. “I want to say goodbye to Adele before she leaves.”

  “Me too.” Derek sat up as well, drawing the sheet over his rapidly cooling skin. “She is so excited about her departure.”

  Adele was set to begin her studies at the School of Musical Arts in Oifel. Ivo, who was currently visiting their mother in Camria, was to meet her on his way to the Royal Academy. Knowing her, all her trunks were already loaded and arranged just so by the new castellan’s efficient hand at the back of the carriage marked with a wolf’s head crest, and she was busy saying farewell to all her friends at Irthorg.

  “She probably packed half the castle,” Callan grumbled, getting up and walking over to the wardrobe.

  Derek hid his smile as he watched his husband rummage around in search of a set of clean clothes, admiring the nice image his nakedness presented.

  “It’s your sister’s first time away from home,” Derek said. “Going to a new place, meeting new people—it’s understandable if she’s a bit overeager and wants to bring a few extra outfits. Especially considering how glamorous Oifel might seem to someone so young.”

  “The way you describe it makes me want to go along and watch out for her in the big city,” Callan said, pulling on a pair of pants.

  “Those are my exact thoughts about Ivo.” Derek chuckled. “But we have to trust them to be sensible. They could use a certain amount of freedom after everything they’ve been through.”

  “That reminds me.” Callan turned to him, and for a moment Derek almost missed what he was saying, distracted by the vibrant blue of his eyes catching the rays of an early morning autumn sun. “I have something for you.”

  “What is it?”

  “Well, you see…” Callan walked back to the bed and sat down on the edge, pursing his lips. If Derek didn’t know better, he’d say Callan was nervous. “I’ve never given you a proper wedding gift. And seeing as it’s been close to a year already, I wanted to…” He trailed off again with a sheepish look on his face that sent Derek’s heart aflutter in a decidedly undignified manner.

  “Wouldn’t you rather wait till our anniversary?” Derek asked, half-amused, half-touched by Callan’s insecurity regarding something so apparently trivial.

  “If I’ve learned anything during the last few years, it’s that life is too fragile to postpone things.” Callan shook his head. “No, I don’t want to wait.”

  He took out a small velvet pouch from the pocket of his pants and handed it to Derek, who untied the strings and dropped the contents onto his palm.

  “You shouldn’t have,” he said after the moment it took him to compose himself.

  “You don’t like it?” Callan asked anxiously.

  “I love it.”

  A large green stone, polished to a high shine, was set in a silver signet ring that fit Derek’s finger perfectly when he slipped it on. He traced the delicate carving of a sparrow and a wheat stalk on its flat surface with his thumb.

  “I know it can’t replace your father’s ring,” Callan said. “But I thought perhaps this one might bring you better luck than the old one had brought him. The stone was a gift from Gunnara—a beryl from the Outer Isles.”

  “Thank you,” Derek said, his previous mirth giving way to a quieter, more profound sort of happiness. “It’s beautiful.”

  Callan smiled, but apprehension still lingered in his eyes. Derek reached out to touch the hard planes of his face, just as gently as he had earlier in the warm darkness of predawn.

  “What’s troubling you?”

  “There was something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Callan said, taking both of Derek’s hands in his. His pulse was racing under Derek’s fingertips. “How would you feel about starting a family with me?”

  “You mean—”

  “Yes. I’ve been thinking for a long time about having children. I know we still have unresolved issues to think about, with the petitions to rescind the witchcraft laws in Ivicia, but this is another thing I don’t want to leave to perfect timing which may never come to pass. Is that…something you’d consider?”

  Derek glanced at the side table where twin gray mourning ribbons lay entangled, ready to be worn around their sleeves. The period of mourning for the Duke of Mulberny was almost over, but Derek knew Callan wasn’t wearing his solely to honor Bergen’s memory. It was for all the friends and loved ones and even adversaries he’d lost along the way, for a past that couldn’t be changed.

  But the future was laid out before them with its endless possibilities, and it was up to them to shape it out of love and trust.

  “There has been too much gray in our world for far too long,” Derek said, looking up into his husband’s eyes. “I’m ready for all the new colors we can bring into it.”

  Acknowledgements

  Huge thanks to the whole NineStar Press team, and especially to Elizabetta and Raevyn, for believing in me and my stories.

  About the Author

  A voracious reader from the age of five, Isabelle Adler has always dreamed of one day putting her own stories into writing. She loves traveling, art, and science, and finds inspiration in all of these. Her favorite genres include sci-fi, fantasy, and historical adventure. She also firmly believes in the unlimited powers of imagination and caffeine.

  Email: [email protected]

  Twitter: @Isabelle_Adler

  Website: www.isabelleadler.com

  Other books by this author

  Staying Afloat Series

  Adrift

  Ashore

  The Castaway Prince Series

  The Castaway Prince

  The Exile Prince

  Fae-Touched Series

  A Touch of Magic

  Frost

  Irises in the Snow

  Also Available from NineStar Press

  Connect with NineStar Press

  Website: NineStarPress.com

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  Facebook Reader Group: NineStarNiche

  Twitter: @ninestarpress

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