9. Into the River
Into the River
Over the decades, finding ways to spend time with Alluin became second nature.
On his off time, Alluin had a lot of long-range mobility, but I was the one determining the precise location of my troops, so Alluin would travel to whatever region my company was deployed to, and I would figure out a way to get to him.
Often, that meant planning patrols and travel so that I could skive off for an evening or a few days to be with Lu, but I had explicit permission to do that, so long as all the required work was conducted and morale remained high.
I never seemed to have any problems with company morale.
Aside from my natural charisma and talent for putting people together who worked well in teams, my own desire to spend time with Alluin made me sensitive to the various off-duty desires of the people in my company, fae and mortal alike.
I made sure my people got the time and flexibility they needed, we got the perk of a close relationship with the First Army, and everyone was happy.
I rode into the town of Ulriche on horseback, peeling off the squad patrol at the furthest part of our loop and leaving one of my lieutenants in command.
The maneuver gave me four days with Alluin before I needed to meet up with the next patrol, though I’d had to put myself on latrine duty for the fortnight while my clerk ribbed me about it—my penance, I told them, for skipping half of the patrols.
Nobody ever complained too hard about latrine duty when the captain took his licks, too. It was good for morale.
We were meeting at an inn overlooking the river that ran through the mountain valley—more of a large creek, truth be told, but a scenic spot, nonetheless.
I handed off my mare to the stableman along with two copper coins so that she’d get rubbed down before getting her grain, and headed inside, eager for a late lunch of my own.
Alluin was standing by the window with another man, the sunlight falling across them like a painting.
He should have been relaxed and happy, but he looked heartsick—small, in a way I never associated with him, his shoulders hunched and pleading tensing his brows.
I took a step towards them, unable to turn away even though I knew I was being rude, worry knotting in my gut.
The other man was slim and lovely, his golden-brown skin marked with henna tattoos and his glossy black hair pulled back with a tortoiseshell comb.
He dressed with casual wealth, not like a lord but like a courtesan, the silk of his robe baring a deep vee of sculpted chest. The earrings dripping from his slender ears were so heavy that they were weighing them down.
He put a hand on Alluin’s chest, stroking his thumb across his shirt like he had every right to. “You should come home,” I heard him say, leaning closer to Alluin as my vision tunneled and skin went hot. “Alluin. You could come home. To me.”
“Nyland, I… You…” Alluin said. He was trembling, his ears low and an expression of nausea on his face.
Nyland leaned closer, sculpting his body to Alluin’s. “Alluin,” he murmured, his voice sounding like the snarl of a wolf to my ears.
His lips brushed Alluin’s. Alluin didn’t move. He closed his eyes like a man waiting for the knife.
“Come home,” Nyland said, and kissed him full on the mouth.
Alluin made a small sound of pain low in his throat, like an injured animal, and I lunged.
Rage pounded through me, unfettered fury that this piece of shit would come here, would follow my Alluin to somewhere he should have been safe, would come and wield the promise of love like a dagger to the heart.
I grabbed Nyland by the hair and ripped him away from Alluin, and then my fist was in his face and I had the savage pleasure of feeling the delicate bones of his nose snapping under my hand.
I heard people screaming, heard someone shouting at me to stop, but there was no stopping.
I didn’t give one flying fuck about what people thought about me.
The only thing I could see was the miserable excuse of a fae who dared hurt my Alluin, and I grabbed him by the fucking throat and I threw him through the lovely, many-paned window overlooking the river.
Glass shattered. Nyland’s body flew through the air and crashed into the rocky creek.
I followed like a vengeful paladin, vaulting the eight feet down into the water and grabbing my thrashing target with my heartbeat roaring in my ears and every particle of my being focused on Alluin, on what he’d done to Alluin, on what he’d do to Alluin if he wasn’t fucking stopped.
My fist crashed into his face again and again. I was going to kill him. I was going to fucking beat him to death right here in this shitty little river, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop me—
“Zhiolas,” Alluin said with firm finality. “Stop.”
I stopped. I froze, my fist pulled back for another punch and Nyland’s bloody robe twisted in my hand. Pleasure zinged down my spine to lodge in my groin.
Had I ever heard Alluin command someone before? Truly command them? My skin went hot, face flushing and heartbeat turning into thudding demand. Heat throbbed between my legs. Oh, gods. He could tell me to do anything in that voice, and I would do it without hesitation.
Kneel. Hands behind your back. Open your mouth, Zhiolas. Suck my cock, Zhiolas. Come in your fucking pants for me, Zhiolas—
“Let him go,” Alluin said.
I let him go. Nyland fell back into the creek with a splash, scrabbling away from me.
I just stood there, breathing like a foundered horse, bloodied fist still raised and my aching cock trapped against my thigh by my quilted pants.
I was still dressed for patrol. I hadn’t even taken off my gambeson.
Alluin came up behind me and gripped me by the back of the neck, the sort of possessive scruffing a master gives an unruly dog.
I very nearly did come in my pants, shuddering from the pleasure, still half-feral with defensive rage and so responsive to Alluin’s presence that I could feel the strength of his hand like he had it wrapped around my shaft.
“Nylandis, this is Captain Zhiolas Ulahana of the Second Army. I trust you remember that name?” Alluin said with careful diction.
Nyland spat blood and glared at me sullenly from his position in the creek. “Your shield-love,” he said, the words wreathed with bitterness.
Alluin’s thumb started running along my pulse in a soothing caress. “Put your hand down, Zhi,” he said, not with command, but like he was gentling me away from the blinding rage.
My lashes fluttered. I lowered my fist. I wanted to bury my face against his chest and get my hair petted while he reassured me that he was alright, but that was too embarrassing of a reaction to have in front of Alluin’s former husband, even if I was Alluin’s shield-love—whatever that meant.
“You’re very, very lucky that Captain Ulahana used his fists instead of his sword,” Alluin said conversationally.
“Not that he’s not capable of killing someone with his fists.
He’s done it before. It merely takes longer.
” He let out a measured breath, the grip on my neck relaxing. “Zhi. Can I let you go?”
I looked over at him, brows slanting and ears dropping. “Lu, I…”
“It’s alright, shaeulo,” he said softly, using an endearment in a language I didn’t recognize. “I’m not angry at you. I’m grateful. But the town guard is here now, and you ought to go with them.”
Right. The town guard. Things like ‘laws’ and ‘consequences.’ There would probably be clemency for me if I admitted that I’d gone feral, but that would raise far too many questions about why Alluin kissing his former husband—a man who was still, so far as the world knew, his long-term paramour—would make me snap.
Fae didn’t go feral out of possessiveness.
It was a natural reaction to overwhelmingly deadly situations, or to seeing someone deeply beloved in mortal danger.
I’d lost control because I knew that Nyland was ripping Alluin’s heart out of his chest—knew that Alluin couldn’t survive being dragged under by someone who couldn’t love him for who he was.
If I admitted that, I was betraying every secret confidence and late-night confession Alluin had ever given me, and I would never do that.
Consequences it was.
I swallowed and nodded, then turned to the city guard. Alluin let me go, his hand slipping off my neck. I hoped it wasn’t only my feeble heart that made that release feel reluctant. I hoped he understood that I didn’t regret any of it. That I would do it again in a heartbeat.
The guards took me away without fanfare, casting uneasy glances at Alluin and Nyland. I didn’t look back. If I looked back, I wasn’t going to be able to walk away, and Alluin needed me to walk away. Had told me to walk away.
They put me in a cell that was at least aboveground, one clearly intended for holding instead of imprisoning.
I was the only one in the jail, which was as much of a blessing as a curse.
I didn’t have to explain to some town drunk that I had thrown my best friend’s former husband through a window and into a river and then proceeded to attempt to beat him to death for the sin of kissing said best friend—but, also, I had to sit in silence and reflect on my behavior like a child put in time-out.
I was going to be in so much trouble. At least I’d been off-duty, so I wouldn’t be getting court-martialed, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there were Army repercussions in addition to the legal ones.
There was a great deal of pain Nyland could inflict on me for attacking him, and I felt certain that he would.
Public humiliation, maybe. I imagined he was the kind of man who would take sick pleasure in having me held in place while he beat me in return.