Chapter 11 Bound
BOUND
Grayson shifted as he slowly roused himself from sleep.
He’d requested Balthazar send him into a forced unconsciousness in order to regain his strength more quickly, because he knew he wasn’t going to rest on his own.
Understanding that Ryder–or Weryn–was out there pretending he was dead–or Ashyr was dead–or…
Did it matter? It was impossible to bear.
It was impossible to rest knowing that Ryder had forgotten him.
Intolerable.
And that Ryder was walking–or more like loping–into danger that he couldn’t face beside him was another cruelty that tortured him.
Damn still being human! All these weaknesses and infirmities from raising one little–or big–tidal wave!
And maybe he’d done a few other–more like a dozen–things with his powers that night, but still!
If he’d been himself none of this would have happened.
If I’d been myself, I might be dead a second or third time, the quiet part of his brain reminded him. I only had the time and space to create that tidal wave because Kaly didn’t realize who I really am and what I can do. And it was worth it for the intel.
Yet despite the fact that he knew he’d made the right decision in keeping himself human, despite the fact that he knew that Ryder–or Weryn–was quite capable of protecting himself, despite the fact that he was unable to get up from the bed, let alone fight, he would have been writhing on that bed even now, half a day later, if Balthazar hadn’t taken the decision to sleep away from his body and mind.
And it had been a glorious sleep! In fact, even now he was surely still dreaming as he felt the fuzzy, soft touch of Ryder’s wolf form under his cheek.
Ryder as Weryn would have never thought to turn into the wolf to cuddle him, to sleep with him, to keep him safe and feeling loved.
Oh, no, Ashyr was dead and he was a stranger according to Weryn!
Did nothing of this world shake him from his delusion that the War was still going on? Was there nothing in my face, my voice, my scent, my soul that called to him? How could he believe I was a stranger?
His anger and hurt were intermixed with a healthy dose of pity and mercy.
Weryn was desperate not to believe he was out of time to right the wrongs of the past before Daemon rose up.
He believed his only hope at salvation was to end Roan and Legion and present their likely severed heads before their king.
And if he were to admit that I was alive and reborn then he would have to tell me all those terrible things he’d done. Things I’ve forgiven him for already, but he has not forgiven himself.
Yet, in this moment of extreme weakness and even knowing that Ryder had to go after Roan and Legion, Grayson wanted him here.
Shifted into his big wolf form. Curled around Grayson.
Keeping him warm and safe. And this didn’t come from his time as Grayson.
No, Grayson had led his entire life practically alone.
No one had stayed in his bed to comfort him.
Even his mother’s arms had not wrapped around him in over a decade to tell him that everything was going to be all right.
This came from Ashyr. The Ashyr who thought himself so singular and apart and not needing comfort.
I am a monolith. I am a pillar of strength of fortitude no matter the storms that lash me. I face what comes without any armor other than my will. I am alone for I must sacrifice everything to win the battles for my king.
Yet had that ever been true? If his coldness was not tempered by his love for the others, Daemon would have lost more than battles long ago.
He would have lost his family. They were a family.
The Immortals. A dysfunctional one. One that fought and bled and then made up and laughed together.
Sacrificing any of them was wrong. In the end, Weryn had done what he had never been able to bring himself to do.
And it resulted in the chaos and loss that he had always feared.
And I don’t want to be alone. I want Ryder. I want him. Right here. Safe. Sound. Soft. Snoring. With me. Not out there battling and bloodied.
Perhaps the dream reflected that desire.
He found himself carding his fingers through the softest of wolf fur.
He heard the steady thump of that mighty heart in his ear.
As he burrowed deeper against that furry body, he felt the wolf stretch one leg over his right arm and hang it over his back.
Oh, he was so warm! More burrowing and then an amused wolf snorted as he tickled Ryder accidentally.
That had Grayson waking up more fully. But all he could see was blackness and then fur and then a fuzzy face of a great wolf laying its head on the pillow beside him. Its tongue lolled out and licked his chin.
“Oh, gross!” Grayson protested. “You have meat breath! What were you eating? Or do I not want to know?”
And then he was truly awake as he shot up in bed and stared down at the massive wolf who was now lying on its back, all four paws in the air, tail thumping against the mattress.
That tongue lolled out again as the wolf wiggled at him, just daring him to rub its tummy or even thrust his face into that soft belly and kiss it.
Weryn would never have let me do that back in the day. It wasn’t respectful. But Ryder would. Ryder has. Ryder is…
Grayson let out a wild laugh that was also a sob as he grasped the wolf’s body and thrust his face against that soft fur. He kissed and stroked that big form even as it shifted from fur to flesh.
“You could go a little lower,” Ryder’s voice was rough from the shift as Grayson kept kissing his belly now all soft skin and just a trail of tempting hair going to that lower place.
Grayson felt the brush of Ryder’s erect cock against his chin and chest. He looked up into Ryder’s beloved face and his heart twisted. Was this still a dream? Could this be real?
“Is it you?” Grayson rasped out.
Ryder blinked in what appeared to be confusion at first and Grayson’s heart plummeted into his feet.
A dream then. A glorious, realistic dream that could only happen because of Balthazar’s mind control.
But then Ryder smiled tenderly. He reached down and cupped Grayson’s face.
His thumbs glided over Grayson’s cheeks.
He brought Grayson up so that they were eye to eye.
Grayson could feel Ryder’s breath gusting against his lips.
“It is,” Ryder promised him. “I’m… fully me.”
Grayson’s eyes widened, which allowed a few tears to fall that he had been holding back. “Fully?”
Another nod. “It took a moment. Or two. Or really… maybe more than that. But now it feels so foolish that I ever thought I was someone else. I’ve always been me. Then and now.”
Grayson grinned, his eyes slitting, and more tears falling.
He was even beginning to snot. That was not romantic or sexy so this was not a dream.
He flailed one arm over towards the nightstand to grab a tissue.
He missed the box utterly, but Ryder stretched out and expertly pulled one from the top and handed it to him.
Grayson blew his nose and wiped his eyes.
More tears kept falling and he was going to need another tissue if this kept up.
He’d known that he was tense and upset by what had happened earlier, but not that he’d been coming apart.
This reaction showed him that he’d not allowed himself to fully feel the truth of Ryder not knowing him and his helplessness to protect the other Immortal.
Ryder might be the Soldier, but he was the General and he didn’t send his people into battle without him.
“Really you? All of you?” Grayson asked, knowing Ryder meant that he was Weryn and Weryn was him and he was Ryder. But he needed to confirm, because this was so huge.
A nod.
“And you’re okay?” Grayson asked, even though he knew the answer to that too.
Or, at least, he thought he knew since Ryder looked so at peace and happy.
There were no shadows in his eyes. Grayson hadn’t realized they had been there before, but he could see their absence now.
Yet they were in bed together and so many things could be forgotten or overlooked when they were like this.
It was how Kaly’s madness had escaped him the first time.
“I am,” Ryder said with another slower nod. “Roan–well, one of the Roans–is dead and Legion and Shaela are in prison in Daemon’s palace. No Sect members can get in there. But Forsworn is… lost to us for now. It was a good trade though. It had to be done.”
Grayson’s mouth opened. There were so many questions to those simple yet profound statements.
Roan–but only one–was dead? Legion and Shaela–who was she?
--were imprisoned? Forsworn was lost? How and in what way?
And why was it a good trade to lose an Ever Dark city?
Such a thing could never be! Especially Weryn’s Forsworn!
But though he had lost his prime territory, Ryder seemed still fine.
At peace. Not accepting it as if he would never get it back, but as if he had made a strategic choice that had been worth it in the end.
So many questions.
Grayson admitted to himself then that he had half-believed that Roan and Legion would escape Ryder, but he shouldn’t have even considered that.
Weryn had never truly lost a hunt. The prey might hide from him for a time, but even during the War, he had located every enemy in the end.
Even Kaly or Roan. It just hadn’t ended well.