26. Chapter Twenty-Five
26
Nicholas
N icholas did not like having deep thoughts. Deep thoughts were for men like his father conjuring dastardly plans for a boring day. He preferred literally anything else, but alas, William proved forever defiant. He roamed Nicholas’ mind like he had made it his permanent residence.
Yesterday, he hadn’t expected William to be so determined to spare Charmaine. He understood the two were close, practically inseparable during their capture. To damn everyone if it meant sparing her? He couldn’t fathom such emotions, such loyalty and care.
On the floor of Nicholas’ room, Arden finished the last of the wine they stole from the mortal’s rations. Nicholas took to his desk, scribbling what he saw earlier in the day from Fearworn’s eyes. Arden waited to take the information to the generals, but Nicholas didn’t hand over the scraps yet. Lost to his thoughts, to wondering what it would be like to be in Charmaine’s place, to have someone care for him so fervently, for William to care for him in such a way.
“If I were sick, and damning the lives of everyone in this camp would save me, what would you do?” Nicholas asked.
Arden sat up straighter and laughed. “What an odd question. What brought this on?”
“Humor me.”
Pursing his lips, Arden nodded. “I would damn the camp if it meant sparing you.”
Nicholas bit back a smile.
“We will not win this war without you,” Arden continued, and Nicholas’ mood plummeted. “Most of the soldiers here are worthless, little more than cannon fodder. You are far more significant, and Lord Darkmoon would have my head if you were lost.”
So you would save me out of necessity, not care? Nicholas wondered. Papers crinkled in his grip, then Arden got up to tug those papers aside. He leaned over Nicholas’ desk, brows furrowed.
“Are you ill?” Arden asked.
“No, I wanted your opinion on a peculiar scenario.”
“Peculiar, indeed.” Arden wanted an elaboration, but Nicholas gave none because he didn’t have answers for either of them.
Why should he care? Why couldn’t he stop thinking about how determined William was to save Charmaine, how much he cared for her? It was silly of him to linger on this. To think of asking William what he would do if Nicholas and Charmaine’s positions were reversed. Would William show that same determination? Would he care? Would he do anything to save Nicholas? And if he would, was it for the same reason as Arden’s? Simply save the tool necessary to end the war so William could return home to the people he loved, leaving Nicholas behind.
He dropped the pages on his desk. The hour grew late. William promised to visit. Nicholas’ eyes fell upon the bed where he imagined William’s nude form waiting for him, lust caught in his brilliant jade eyes. He felt as if he were born for these moments, waiting for William, wanting him. He relished and reviled such thoughts.
“Here, take these to the generals,” Nicholas said, presenting the notes to Arden.
Taking the scraps, Arden bid Nicholas a good night and scurried out of the room. Nicholas waited, fingers tapping impatiently on the desk. He squirmed, paced, fell on the bed, shuffled to the door to check the hall, then leaned against the desk, wondering why William was so late. Being late meant Nicholas had more time to think, to worry, to hate Charmaine a little for having so much of William’s attention and care, to hate himself for wanting William so fervently that he couldn’t think properly.
Then the doorknob rattled once, twice, and a third time. Nicholas opened the door to find William’s mirage standing in the hall. Nicholas stepped away, and the medic entered.
“I didn’t want to come in if someone else were here,” William explained, cursing when Nicholas flung him onto the bed. The shade fell on him for a smooth kiss he thought far too much about since their promised rendezvous, and he needed this attention, to feel William here with him.
“I don’t even get a hello?” William whispered when Nicholas moved from that tempting mouth to an equally enchanting neck. He marked the skin, uncaring of William tugging at his hair in a futile attempt to remind him not to. Nicholas wanted William to think of him whenever he caught his reflection, when anyone asked about the mark. He would sear his memory into William’s very bones if he could, and he hoped William felt the same.
“Hello,” the fae said, savoring the sensation of William’s chuckle echoed against his mouth. Nicholas yanked at his shirt, encouraging William to rid himself of the useless garment. Then he had his lips moving across William’s tempting collar bone, before he dared to yawn.
“Yawning during a moment like this is wildly inappropriate,” Nicholas grumbled, slightly flustered because this was not a common occurrence, and embarrassed for that same reason. Had William not been thinking about him all day? Was Nicholas the only one tormented?
“Do not speak to me about what’s inappropriate when you are the very definition of inappropriate.” But William yawned a second time. The hood of his eyes fell. Nicholas nestled himself between the medic’s legs. He could lie like this all night, enraptured by William’s form, and somehow it was enough to set him ablaze.
“You are tired,” he declared.
“A marvelous deduction on your part.”
“Who dared to exhaust you when I need your attention?”
“Need?” William mocked. A dimple pressed into his cheek from his small smile. “You’re so dramatic.”
“You like my dramatics.”
“Do I?”
“I imagine you wouldn’t tolerate me if you didn’t.”
William snorted and rested a hand on Nicholas’ hip. Calloused fingers danced over his skin, leaving goose feathers in their wake. “There are too many idiots in the military. Two fools shot themselves today, one in the foot and the other in his left butt cheek. Do not ask me how he would not tell and I doubt either of us can conjure an idiotic enough scenario to explain it. That, along with my usual duties, has led to a tiresome day.”
Chuckling, Nicholas suggested, “Shall we rest a bit? You need your energy for all that I want to do to you. I want you to be loud for me this evening.”
“Is that my form of repayment for the other day?”
“Yes, I deserve praise and the sweet sound of your voice in utter ecstasy.”
That enticed another chuckle prior to Nicholas catching William in a kiss, hoping it would serve as a distraction to the odd warmth spreading in his chest. He would not dare admit to liking the sound of William’s laughter. Speaking that aloud would be dangerous. It would be real, and the admittance would be like poison upon his tongue, damning him.
William’s fingers caught in his hair, tugging the tie loose. Then Nicholas fell away, laying beside the medic, who’s eyes closed. Like this, William looked soft and serene, so easily breakable. Nicholas learned better. The moment those eyes opened, he met unrelenting steel, an immovable force that no magic of this world or any other could stand against.
“Medicine doesn’t seem like a path someone like you would choose voluntarily,” Nicholas said.
William hummed. “Didn’t you sneak papers on me? You know Montgomery discovered I had the Sight and set me toward the medical field.”
“So, you didn’t choose it, it chose you, but why stay?”
“Survival.”
“I thought I was the vague one.” His foot nudged William’s leg, then his finger traced a scar along William’s stomach. He had plenty of them. Nicholas saw them, and he moved in now to kiss them. He felt and heard William take a breath, skin shuddering beneath his lips. William twirled Nicholas’ hair around his finger, letting the fae press one chaste kiss after the other until he reached William’s lips. He tasted too sweet to be real.
When Nicholas retreated, William whispered, “Do you recall how I mentioned that my training days were rough?”
“How could I forget? You were naked.”
“You’re so unserious,” William chided him, but he sounded amused.
“Unlike a certain someone, I like to have fun, but I will sustain from jokes as I sense you have serious matters to discuss.”
William’s fingers tapped against the back of Nicholas’ neck.
“Are you frightened I may tease you?” he asked.
“No, I worry you may share what isn’t yours to tell. That you will use this against me in some form.” William hesitated, perhaps having more to say, but settling on that.
“I may take nothing seriously, but you are paranoid, albeit for good reasons. I am a rotten bastard.”
“I am so relieved that you know that.”
“Come now, tell me a story. You know I love them.” Nicholas curled against his side. He settled a hand over William’s on his chest to interlock their fingers. He couldn’t stop himself from seeking William’s touch, yearning to feel those calloused hands and listen to his serene voice.
Silence fell over them for a long moment, then William explained, “Many young boys were recruited and they had to release that anger, fear, and confusion on someone. In our group of recruits, that someone was me because I was an easy target. Our sergeants did nothing. They viewed this as necessary, a way to toughen the weak ones. The boys sent me bloody to the infirmary more times than I could count.”
William released a shuddering breath of rage and frustration. Nicholas held his hand tighter, realizing the burn hissing through his blood was a rage for any who dared put their hands on William, who dared to upset and harm him so. If Nicholas got his hands on them, they would regret the poor decisions they made all those years ago. He’d hurt them, and that wouldn’t be strange. What was strange was that Nicholas wanted to make someone feel better, that he sought revenge for someone other than himself.
“That’s how Montgomery found me, how she sensed I had the Sight, always working to protect me from the beatings when I hadn’t realized it. Being able to heal gave me a purpose, made me capable of caring for myself, made me realize I had power. Now, none would dare cause me harm when I may be the one deciding if they survive the next wound. So, you are right, I chose this path because it was the only route to take if I wanted to survive.” William shifted onto his side to face Nicholas. Their hands remained locked between them. “What about you? You mentioned once that you would have gone to war even if your father hadn’t ordered it. Why? And don’t say for fun, there is more to it than that.”
“Is there?” Nicholas countered. “Do you think I’m hiding a sad little secret?”
“I am certain you have many sad, not so little secrets, otherwise you wouldn’t be such a pompous asshole.”
Nicholas locked his foot around William’s ankle and muttered, “War seemed a good place to release all this energy. The power I have is turbulent, ever changing, and what better way to be rid of it than here?”
“Are you scared of it, your power?”
By all the realms, yes, he was terrified.
Nicholas read and heard of many stories about shades fading away, becoming someone else, someone they would never recognize. Although they breathed, although they walked the same lands they had known since birth, somehow, they were forgotten and misplaced. That had always been a possible end for him. One he didn’t want. Fearworn lost himself, and no one knew who he was before. Perhaps he had always been a scientist, experimenting and searching for answers. Perhaps he had a family, one he destroyed. No one knew.
Peering through Fearworn’s eyes reminded Nicholas more and more each day that he could be next. He could follow in Fearworn’s footsteps. He could forget all he had ever been and all he had ever known. He’d be a corpse, nothing but a potent power yearning to unleash. The world would set him on a path no different from Laurent. No matter what Nicholas did, he had so little control over his future. He had no say in who he would truly become.
“Yes,” he answered in a whispered breath. “I do not want to end up like Fearworn. When I die, I want to die as Nicholas Darkmoon, not a shell of who he used to be.”
“To ensure that happens, you could always hitch an early ride with death.” William’s joking tone made him laugh.
“I believe you would miss me if that were to happen.”
“I might miss the sex, but not you.”
“It is unfair that you can lie.” And even more unfair when William smiled. It made Nicholas’ heart stutter. “Be honest,” he hoped he didn’t sound pleading. “Would you miss me if I were gone? Would you mourn me if I followed in Fearworn’s footsteps, if I wasn’t me anymore?”
They stared at each other for a long moment, and in that moment, William’s eyes darkened. His expression was ruination. Then he sat up, separating them. Frigid air filled the gap between them.
“Do not ask me to answer that. It is tough enough being here,” William said.
“Why?”
“You know damn well why.”
“I don’t think I do.” Nicholas pushed forward. He had to know, needed to hear this truth more than anything else, and he couldn’t explain why. “If you must lie, let me hear it. A lie from you will still sound sweet.”
William would not look at him when all he wanted was William’s attention. He had never craved for anything more and that wanting frightened him.
“I would miss you, annoyances and all.” But when William looked back, his eyes were a wasteland, tremendously reserved. “I hate it, thinking this way, and being here with you. I hate fae. You’re nasty, greedy, and insatiable bastards seeking the worst of everything and destroying anything good, like Hugh. He was good, great, even.”
“Your lover?” Nicholas loathed the word on his tongue, that it dared to belong to another.
“Yes, although I didn’t truly accept it at the time. He was meant to be a good time between the bad, but by the Holy Soul, he was so much more. He was the prince charming I read about, the man I always wanted. Hugh didn’t feign disinterest once the deed was done, and he wanted us to be together after the war. He promised to love me until the end of days, and I dared to believe him out here in this fucking shithole. Then one like you ruined everything.” The temper in William’s eyes could burn this world to ash.
“Speak their name and I will get rid of them for you,” Nicholas said, even if he was jealous of a dead man, of what he had been to William and promised him. For a moment, Nicholas thought of doing the same.
William actually laughed. “Would you really do that for me?”
“Yes.” Nicholas didn’t understand why, but he would hurt anyone if William asked it of him. He would hurt them even if William didn’t ask. If they laid a hand upon his wicked, that would spell their end.
“You are surprisingly good at romancing someone, aren’t you? But there is no need to speak their name. I handled them.”
Nicholas sought William’s hand, like he had done nights ago after they spoke of his fears. Comfort, William called it, after speaking of terror. He did not pull away, so Nicholas tugged him closer, closer, until he held William tight. William eased into his arms to settle his forehead against the fae’s chest.
“It was a battle like any other. Spions and shadowed disciples invaded a local town. We were sent in to rescue anyone we could and be rid of the beasts,” William mumbled.
Nicholas wondered why William spoke more of what troubled him. The more William spoke, the more he asked himself if William told anyone this. Even Charmaine, every detail, spit between clenched teeth, the raw fury and muffled tears as he trembled in Nicholas’ grasp.
“Many of the nests the spions spun were tough and overrun. There were thousands of the beasts spawning out of nowhere. I lost sight of Hugh, so I ignored my duties. I searched for him and I heard this awful wailing, begging, and knew it was him. I ran and there he was, carried by a fae who tossed him out like trash. His leg was already broken, perfect bait for a spion nest. I ran for him, but it was a mess, bodies everywhere, webbing. I got stuck. Spions smelled the blood. Although he knew to be quiet, they already heard him. Nearby, that damn fae waited for the monsters to tear Hugh apart. Then the fae lit up their defenseless nest and all of them in a flash, and Hugh with them. I didn’t have a body to bury. Now, here I am with you. How fucking vile is that?” William cried, and every tear made Nicholas’ chest ache more.
Nicholas never expected to be speechless while William wept. He hated the quick intakes of breath and William’s dull nails scraping against his back. He held tighter because he did not know what else to do. No one cried around him unless he caused those tears. No one clung to him as if he were what kept them from falling. He hated every passing second where he could not fix all of William’s problems.
“I’ve never had such feelings,” Nicholas murmured honestly, not knowing what more to say.
“What? Love?” William looked up, eyes rimmed in red. He squinted cutely when Nicholas’ thumb brushed the stray tears away. “Not once? For family, friends, a partner?”
“If someone ruined my hair, I would be very upset.”
“That is sad, Nicholas. It’s a beautiful thing, being in love.”
“But it has brought you so much pain, hasn’t it?”
“Losing Hugh brought pain, but loving him was the best feeling in the world.”
Nicholas couldn’t fathom such intensity. “Tell me more,” he said. “About Hugh and the prince charmings you read about and what it supposedly is like being in love. Feed my curiosity. I will consider it my reward for yesterday instead.”
“Really?” he laughed, somber and broken.
“Really. I want to know.”
William spoke of butterflies in his stomach and warmth in his cheeks and wanting to see someone every moment of every day. He talked about missing someone even when they departed moments ago, of wanting to learn every detail, of memorizing a soul that they could recognize from a single breath. Nicholas listened, finding every word to be painfully na?ve, and yet he wanted all of that. He didn’t know why. Because it sounded incredible and maybe, after William fell asleep in his arms, he wondered if the tickling sensation in his stomach were the butterflies William spoke of. If they were, he liked them very much.