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“I won’t be able to think at all if you keep doing that.” Cathal tilted his head back, giving Tomas more access, moaning softly when Tomas nipped the skin at a particularly sensitive spot. He cupped Tomas’s buttocks, pulling him closer.
“Hmm,” Tomas murmured, taking the cue given him, his fingers already sliding under the T-shirt that Cathal wore. As much as Cathal missed his usual clothing, the style of dress expected in this world certainly seemed to be designed to be removed more easily.
SOMETHING loud clattered down the stairs to land on the bottom step. What the hell?
Cathal and Tomas disentangled themselves quickly, Cathal’s hand going to his pocket for the knife he carried. Tomas instinctively did the same, annoyed at himself for doing so, and hoping that Cathal hadn’t noticed. He only carried the thing because Cathal had insisted. Tomas’s skill with one was limited, but apparently it was better than having nothing with which to defend himself. They’d argued over it, Tomas backing down because only an idiot wouldn’t be able to see Cathal’s very real concern. Once the bloody portal was closed he’d ditch it, and hopefully Cathal would follow his lead. They were in his world now, and the discovery that they were carrying concealed weapons could get them into serious trouble.
He muttered something rude under his breath when he noticed what had made the noise. Didn’t anyone in this place know the meaning of the word privacy? While it was true that they were still standing in plain sight by the staircase, that fact was beside the point.
“My apologies.” Will did not sound in the least bit sorry. If anything he appeared amused by what he’d interrupted. “I am still not very practiced at maneuvering my crutch on these stairs. I appear to have dropped it.”
“That you have.” Cathal retrieved the crutch for him. He didn’t sound quite as annoyed as Tomas felt, but then he’d had plenty of practice keeping up a polite facade. The stories he’d told Tomas about Naearu’s royal court and what was expected of someone having an audience with the king had only served to convince Tomas that it was something best avoided.
“I see we are not as safe as you would have others believe, Cathal.” Will gazed pointedly where Cathal’s hand had gone for the knife.
“You disagree?” Cathal stood back, allowing Will to walk down the remaining few steps on his own. His tendency to be very independent had been difficult to miss. The shadow that had crossed his face the first time Tomas had only offered his help had convinced him not to do it again. If Will needed assistance, he could ask for it himself.
“I didn’t say that.” Will shrugged and gestured with his crutch. While his leg was healing quickly from the arrow wound he’d suffered, it would be a while before he could walk easily. Even so, from the little Tomas had seen of him in action, he’d got the impression that Will was not a man who should be underestimated. Cathal had also told him that Will was a good fighter, almost as good as Christian in hand to hand combat, and was unmatched when it came to skill with a bow and arrow.
“Heidi is making breakfast,” Tomas interrupted. The last thing he needed was for Will to agree with Cathal and add more fuel to that particular fire.
“Then it would not do for me to shirk my manners and keep her waiting.” As Will passed them, the light through the windows by the front door highlighted the dark shadows under his eyes. Either he was tired, or not sleeping properly, or both.
Cathal watched him carefully, his brows creasing into a frown. He leaned back against Tomas, his shoulders sagging very slightly, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips.
“You’re worried about Will too.” Tomas spoke the words softly, once Will was out of earshot. Will was a stranger to this world and had only heard about it in stories. Tomas remembered how he’d felt being suddenly shoved into somewhere new when he’d found himself in Cathal’s world without warning. It was disorientating as hell.
“Yes.” So much tiredness came across in that one word. It was as though Cathal felt he carried the entire weight of the world. This wasn’t just his responsibility, although he seemed to think it was. Why couldn’t they just retreat to their room for a few hours, make love, and ignore all this crap?
“Cat.” Tomas kissed the top of Cathal’s head, only bending a fraction in order to do so with the several inches between them in height. He ran his fingers through Cathal’s hair, the feel of it soft against his skin. “I want you to be happy.” Tomas attempted a smile but knew he hadn’t succeeded with it very well. “This will settle down in time… won’t it?”
“I hope so.” Cathal pulled Tomas close. “I’m sorry for being so melancholic. I seem to have woken up with the mood this morning.” He lowered his voice. Their conversation was private. “You make me happy, Tomas. I never thought we’d have a chance to be together and have a future. I just need to figure out how we’re going to make this work.” He took a deep breath. “I love you, and I want our relationship to be equal. I know you’re prepared to support me, but I won’t be a kept man.”
They’d already had this conversation, but Cathal didn’t seem prepared to let go of it. How many times would it take for Tomas to reassure him it didn’t matter? So what if most relationships in Naearu consisted of a dominant and submissive? It didn’t mean theirs was going to be. No one in their right mind would think of Cathal as a submissive, or attempt to make him one. He was intelligent, stubborn, and once he got an idea in his head it was difficult to shake him from it.
No one in their right mind. Tomas let out a low growl before he realized he’d done so. That pretty much summed up Deryn, didn’t it? How the hell could she have ever thought Cathal would go along with that idea with the likes of her? Or with anyone else, for that matter?
Tomas didn’t want that kind of relationship anyway. He never had. He wanted, needed, an equal. Which was exactly what he’d found in Cathal. If anything Cathal was the better man, not him. He was the one who’d led a resistance, and all that. There was no way Tomas would ever be able to do that. He knew his limits. All he wanted was for them to get their happy ever after.
Was that really too much to hope for or expect? Especially after everything they’d gone through?
“I’ve only ever wanted our relationship to be equal, Cat.” Tomas closed his eyes for a moment. How could Cathal still think he didn’t? “Do you really think I’d consider anything else? I wouldn’t have before I knew Deryn’s intentions towards you, and I sure as hell wouldn’t now.”
“I didn’t word that very well, did I?” This was crazy, they shouldn’t be arguing about something they agreed on.
“No, you didn’t.” Tomas knew his answer was on the blunt side but didn’t care. If Cathal could be direct about this, so could he.
Cathal pulled away. “I was thinking about taking Buttercup out after breakfast. Do you want to join me?” Although the question sounded genuine enough, the tone made the words sound as though he really wanted Tomas to say no.
Should he be riding with the state of his hands? They were healing quickly, but Cathal didn’t hide the way he flinched at times as well as he apparently thought he did. They were still tender, which wasn’t surprising. Tomas forced himself not to stare, or to think about the blood that had dripped from Cathal’s hands after he’d grasped the sharp end of a blade in order to saw through his and Tomas’s restraints.
“You’re changing the subject.” Bloody hell. He hated when Cathal did that. “This is my world, but I’d like it to be ours.” He fingered the pendant around his neck. It was the equivalent of an engagement ring. The wooden carving had a part of both men about it. The rose was Cathal’s family crest, the cat represented himself, and the quill was a nod to Tomas’s chosen profession as a writer. “Did I make a mistake in thinking that was possible?”
“No. Wherever we are, it will be ours. I….” Cathal laid a hand over Tomas’s, stilling it. “We have some unfinished business to deal with first.”
Yeah, he knew that, but the way Cathal spoke it sounded like there was something else to it. Su
rely he wasn’t keeping secrets? They were supposed to be past that.
He’d promised. They both had.
“You can’t go back there, Cathal.” Tomas shook his head, stroking Cathal’s hand. He rarely used Cathal’s full name when they were alone. “She’ll find a way to take you in marriage and to bed you.” Cathal was the king’s nephew, but so what? He’d pissed his uncle off enough times that marrying him wouldn’t be the way to the throne. “I won’t let that happen. She can’t have you!” Tomas struggled to stay calm. His voice rose. He clenched his fists. “There must be someone else who would be more than happy to agree to her terms.”
“There….” Cathal looked down, his complexion pale. “According to our laws she can only marry someone of equal or higher standing.” He shook his head. “Damn it. She’s not a woman to settle for less. Deryn has always set her sights high and gone after what she wanted, even when we were children.” The thought of him with her, sharing her bed, twisted everything he and Tomas had together, turning something beautiful and right into a nightmare.
God, no. Tomas wanted to just take Cathal in his arms and run. Anywhere, just as long as that didn’t happen. There was something about Deryn, something dark, something… Tomas shuddered. “It’s not going to happen.” He glared at Cathal, although the anger he felt was not just directed at Deryn, but also toward himself. If it came down to it, how the hell would he stop her? “Settle for less? Is that….” Tomas couldn’t bring himself to finish the words. Was that what Cathal was doing in marrying him?
“How could you think that? You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted, Tomas, the only person I’ve ever been with.” Cathal’s voice shook. “You believe me when I say that, don’t you? I chose you as my betrothed, not her. I’m marrying you because I love you. I don’t care about the rest of it. I never have.”
“I know you did, and of course I believe you.” Tomas’s eyes narrowed. Where was Cathal going with this? Whatever it was, he just needed to get on with it. “I trust you. You haven’t lied to me, even if you have sidestepped a few facts at times.”
“I would never lie to you.” Cathal bit his lip. “I love you, Tomas Kemp, and I want a long and happy future with you as my friend, lover, and husband.”
“I know that.” Tomas felt his anger melt at Cathal’s words. “I love you too, Cat, and that’s what I want with you. We’ve already talked about this.” He frowned, a cold knot forming in his stomach. “Why are you suddenly sounding so formal? What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me? I know we’re betrothed, and that sounded suspiciously like you needed to make that very clear. Why?”
Cathal took a deep breath, looked at the floor, and then back at Tomas. He seemed nervous. Too much so. “Deryn…,” he began.
“What about her? What hold does she have over you, Cat? What did she do to you?” Tomas desperately went through scenarios in his mind, trying to find an answer. She’d already threatened him. Perhaps she’d done the same to his family? Why was getting Cathal to agree to her terms so important to her?
“Deryn is with child.” Cathal flinched as he spoke the words.
Tomas’s mouth went dry. Cathal couldn’t be serious. Bile rose in his throat, visions of her and Cathal in bed together, of him….
No. Cathal had said he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t be with someone he did not love. He loved Tomas. Not Deryn.
Cathal licked his lips. He wouldn’t meet Tomas’s eyes. “I wouldn’t betray you, Tomas.”
“But?” There had to be a “but” in all of this. Cathal was still hiding something. Tomas shivered, suspecting what was coming, but didn’t want to hear the words, didn’t want to believe them.
“She wants me to claim it as mine.”
Chapter 3
“THE fucking bitch.” Tomas enunciated each word. He clenched his fists. “I’ll bloody kill her.”
“Tomas.” Cathal whispered the name. “I….” There were no words adequate enough to explain how he felt. He’d promised Tomas there would be no more secrets, and yet he’d kept this to himself.
“The child isn’t yours.”
“No.” Cathal shook his head. Although it had been a statement rather than a question, it still hurt knowing Tomas needed to say it. Cathal’s voice wavered. “Of course it isn’t.” He hadn’t slept with Deryn. He wouldn’t sleep with someone he didn’t love. Tomas knew that, or at least Cathal had thought he did.
“Cathal… Cat.” Tomas sounded strained. Waves of anger rolled off him.
Up to now, Cathal had found it easier to pretend Deryn might give up her quest to get him to claim parentage for her child. Putting it into words brought it home that he knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t.
He wouldn’t sleep with her. Her voice still whispered to him, offering him Tomas’s life in return if he did. That was all he needed to do. The mages would be able to tell with a simple test if he had. It would only have to be once, and it wouldn’t matter that she was already with child. He and Deryn had been close friends. Surely he didn’t find her that repugnant.
He’d told her he wouldn’t. He’d admit to leading the resistance, sign a confession for that, and take whatever consequences would come of it. Nothing more.
But if he didn’t submit to her request, she’d promised him Tomas’s life would be forfeit. Cathal could give her child his name and everything that went with that. It was a fair exchange, she’d reasoned. One life for another. Her child’s father, whoever he was, could not admit responsibility for it. Therefore another could, and would. Her child would not be a bastard, not when he or she had the chance to be in line for the throne.
Could he give Deryn the key to that kind of power? Their people were lost and looking for a new leader. Her child would be the perfect choice—a link between the old and new of the existing monarchy and the resistance.
It would betray his people and place their future in the hands of a woman who did not have their welfare at heart. Deryn had always taken care of herself first and foremost, and that was not about to change anytime soon.
Cathal bit his lip. It would also betray Tomas, but only in order to save him.
His head spun, the path he’d thought clearly laid out before him wavering for a moment. What if she’d found a way to follow them? “No.” He couldn’t lose Tomas. “I can’t.” He couldn’t betray the man he loved like this. He wouldn’t need to. They were safe here.
“Cat.”
He shook his head, pushing Tomas’s hand away. Tomas’s breath hitched. He recoiled as though Cathal had slapped him. “I’m sorry. I…,” Cathal whispered. He needed time to think. “I… didn’t mean to keep this from you. I….”
“I’m not angry with you.” Tomas leaned in closer. Cathal took a step back, not wanting the physical contact which would accentuate the confused whirlpool of emotions Tomas was projecting. Cathal didn’t know how to turn them off. He’d never felt anything this strongly from someone before. He could sense the presence of others, and on rare occasions, intense emotion, but nothing to this degree. He’d told Donovan the truth, or thought he had. His ability was not this strong.
It wasn’t supposed to be.
But then he’d never allowed anyone to get close to him the way he had Tomas. When they made love….
Cathal whimpered.
He was drowning. He couldn’t think, couldn’t feel.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, pushing past Tomas. He needed to get away, to work his way through this. Then they could talk and he could try to explain.
“Cat!”
He heard Tomas yell, but he was already running, putting as much distance between himself and anyone else as he could.
The front door of the inn slammed shut behind him, caught in a sudden gust of wind. It was cold outside and he wasn’t dressed warmly enough, but he didn’t care. It didn’t take long to find Buttercup. She was in the old stables behind the inn, although this was the first time that either the building or the paddock in front of it had been used for
its original purpose for many years.
Buttercup nuzzled at his pocket for another apple, having enjoyed the one he’d brought her the day before. She neighed softly when he saddled her and promised her one later. Riding had always helped to clear his thoughts. He could be as one with nature and the wind, letting the horse go her own way before she decided to stop. Buttercup seemed to understand him despite her stubbornness with other riders. She’d protested when Cathal had gifted her to Deryn, but he’d never intended for her to keep the horse for long. Animals were one thing he could trust her to show kindness toward. For some reason she couldn’t bring herself to do them harm. He suspected it was linked to her ability to control them, although Buttercup, for some reason, was immune to her commands.
It had annoyed her, which made the gift that much more satisfying.
He spoke softly to Buttercup, soothing her and himself at the same time. Swinging up into the saddle, he regretted having left his gloves behind. His hands were still much more sensitive than usual. He wrapped the reins loosely around them, using his knees against her flank to urge her forward instead. His injuries had been necessary and were healing quickly. Despite Tomas’s concerns, Cathal didn’t regret the choice he’d made and would make the same one again. Leaving Tomas and Christian imprisoned by Deryn was not an option.
After another whispered command, Buttercup jumped the fence. The wind tugged at them, pulling them this way and that. She pawed the ground, waiting. He hesitated, unsure for a moment. So much had changed. Were the fields he’d ridden across before still there? The oak and the portal it hid weighed down on him, oppressive. It wasn’t just his body that was tired, but his mind. The tattoo on his wrist itched, the sensation niggling at his mind.
He was no longer bound to the tree. Yet he could not rid himself entirely of it. Perhaps when the portal closed, it would free him completely and restore Christian to his proper form. Part of him wanted to explore this world of Tomas’s more closely, but he knew doing so would only serve to bring home the fact that so much time had passed since the year he and Christian had spent here with Alice. They hadn’t ventured very far over that year, but had ridden into the village a few times, taking care to keep to themselves until that night when everything had gone to hell.