Wilder Hawthorne
I t took every ounce of willpower for Wilder to force one foot in front of the other and leave the beautiful, naked woman behind. By the Furies, he was in deep shit. Before tonight, he had been torn between throttling her and fucking her, but now… Now there was no question.
He clutched the remedy he’d snatched from the shelves tightly in his clammy palm and made for Malik’s rooms. If his brother hadn’t been having an episode, nothing would have stopped him tearing his clothes off and taking Althea Zoltaire there and then in that tub.
He could hardly recall what he’d said to her. His cock was still rock hard, straining against the rough fabric of his pants, begging for release – begging for her .
‘For fuck’s sake,’ he muttered, scraping his other hand through his hair again and trying to banish the images of her flooding his mind: those celadon eyes brazenly surveying his erection, her round breasts rising as her breathing hitched, the soap suds sliding over her hard nipples…
‘Fuck,’ Wilder cursed again, hitting the flat of his palm against a nearby wall and picking up his pace.
It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman, since he’d felt the need.
He’d seen firsthand what infatuation could do to a Warsword.
But the alchemist… She made something inside him blaze to life.
Malik , he commanded himself. Think about Malik .
Upon his return to Thezmarr, Wilder had sought his brother to return his dagger and try to understand the friendship he’d nurtured with the young alchemist. But when he’d entered the rooms, Malik’s giant frame was wedged in the small space between the end of the bed and the wall.
He had been sitting with his knees to his chest, his huge hands covering his ears and his eyes screwed shut.
Wilder had backed away, knowing there was nothing he could do in that moment but wait for the worst of it to pass, that his presence might even make matters worse.
Instead, he’d decided to get one of Farissa’s remedies for when Malik calmed down.
It was one they’d used plenty of times before, just a few drops under the tongue seemed to help bring Malik back to the present.
The Master Alchemist always kept a full supply of basic medicines in the bathing chamber, but upon seeing Althea…
All thoughts had emptied from Wilder’s head.
But now, as he reached Malik’s room once more, he had gained some measure of control over himself. He knocked gently before letting himself in and was relieved to find his brother in his armchair by the fire, Dax at his feet.
‘Good,’ Wilder said roughly, closing the door behind him. ‘You’re alright.’
Malik, who still looked pale, managed a lopsided smile, his hand absentmindedly toying with Dax’s matted coat.
Wilder held out the vial of remedy drops, his chest tight. ‘Got you these.’
Malik simply blinked slowly and Wilder’s heart sank a little, recognising the look of his brother’s semi-fugue state.
‘Let me help you then,’ he mumbled, taking the stopper from the bottle and filling the glass dropper. Ever so gently, he helped Malik tip his head back and open his mouth, administering three drops of Farissa’s tonic.
Wilder squeezed his brother’s shoulder. ‘That should help,’ he told him before stoking the fire to life and dragging a spare chair before the hearth. ‘I’m bored, so if you’re not busy, I might stay awhile.’
Malik didn’t reply, but Wilder sat back anyway, stretching his long legs out and crossing them at the ankle, careful not to disturb Dax. He glanced at the dog. ‘You get around, don’t you?’
Dax ignored him, apparently preferring Malik and the alchemist. Wilder couldn’t say he blamed him.
As the fire crackled to life, Wilder looked across at his brother, who stared intently at the flames.
He often did that when things got too much for him.
Wilder swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to force back the memories of that day in Naarva all those years ago.
A day that had looked like night amidst a swarm of shadow wraiths and worse, where Malik and Talemir had fought side-by-side in the stone circles of Islaton.
He realised he was gripping the arms of the chair so tightly his knuckles were burning, and for a moment, his vision blurred. Malik had lost nearly everything that day.Talemir, too. And Wilder hadn’t been able to save either of them.
Composing himself, Wilder’s hand went to the dagger at his waist.
‘Mal,’ he said. ‘I found this…’ He held out the Naarvian blade, not sure what reaction to expect, if a reaction at all.
Slowly, Malik’s giant torso turned and his gaze found the weapon offered to him.
Wilder’s mouth fell open.
His brother was grinning. And not the dazed grin that so often graced his face, but a grin of recognition and mischief.
‘You know what this is, then?’ Wilder asked, a strange giddiness fluttering in his stomach as Malik reached for the dagger.
Malik had once been the more serious of the two brothers, but his injuries had seen a reversal of their roles.
Wilder had become the tense and stoic one, while Malik seemed to find a quiet amusement in unusual aspects of their world.
To Wilder’s surprise, Malik did not take the weapon. His brother merely pushed it back to him, his lips moving as though he wanted to say something.
But no words came.
Wilder’s heart seized, but Malik was still smiling, and so he decided that was more than enough for him.
‘Have it your way.’ He resheathed the blade at his belt, wishing he’d asked Althea more about her friendship with his brother. Her very name sent a charged thrill through him.
Gods, what have I got myself into? He got to his feet, feeling weary at the thought of the trek to his cabin outside the fortress grounds. ‘I’ll leave you to it, Mal,’ he said, making a point of leaving Farissa’s remedy drops within easy reach.
His brother was still smiling when he left.
As Wilder walked through the torchlit passageways, he noticed he was not alone. Dax followed at his heels, the giant dog padding along soundlessly. He trailed him through the fortress only to pause outside the shieldbearer dormitories.
The mongrel let out a low growl and Wilder halted, looking from the dog to the door.
Unsure of what possessed him, Wilder reached for the handle and opened it a crack. ‘Look out for her, will you?’ he told Dax, who slipped through the gap without a backward glance.