Chapter 8 #2
His feet padded down the hallway, the thin carpet beneath him drawing his attention to the fact his right foot was bandaged.
The Del Bandage covered everything right up to mid-shin, slightly obscured by the pant leg of the white and blue striped pajama bottoms he’d been changed into, most likely by Falc.
By the time he made it to the top of the stairs, he was partially out of breath and covered in a fine sheen of sweat brought on by the pain shooting up his leg. Still, it was manageable. A little pain to get away from all of these twisted emotions? Worth it.
Glancing down, however, had his bravery wavering.
The steps were wide but steep. One wrong move and he’d go toppling. Not only would the commotion most definitely wake everyone, it would also hurt like hell. He may even end up with worse injuries than he already had…
He nibbled on his lower lip and glanced back down the hall toward his open bedroom door. He could go back, but that would be admitting defeat and would no doubt leave him open for attack.
And he wasn’t delusional. He knew what type of person Silver was and the most likely reason he’d been brought here.
The Emperor hated any type of change he didn’t initiate.
It wasn’t Nuri personally he wanted to keep around; it was the perfect secretary that he needed. Even that didn’t come with a guarantee.
For all Nuri knew, Silver was planning on convincing him to come back to work just so he could fire him. It sounded petty, but…well. Sometimes Silver could be.
No. Nuri needed to get out. He needed to stand by what he’d said in the office and stick up for himself for once. If he didn’t and he stuck around and allowed Silver to convince him…
Inhaling, Nuri grabbed onto the railing and eased himself down one step.
As expected, it wasn’t easy, and the pain intensified each time he applied renewed pressure to his right ankle, but it wasn’t enough to stop him.
Eventually he made it to the landing, closing his eyes to give himself a second to recoup before moving toward the long table set against the wall to the right.
The home communicator screen hung just over the center of the table, coming to life the second Nuri pressed his finger to it. The light blue glow in the otherwise mostly dark foyer had him blinking and glancing away, head turned toward the hallway that branched off behind the staircase.
A shadowy form lingered there, tall and foreboding and still as a statue. For a moment, Nuri was certain it was merely his eyes playing tricks on him, but then the figure shifted.
Nuri let out a gasp and retreated, forgetting all about his injury in his surprise. The gasp morphed into a cry of pain as he stepped down with more force on his fractured ankle, and he would have crumpled to the ground if not for the shadow figure which shot forward and grabbed onto him.
Strong arms banded around his waist, hoisting him up, and just before he started to panic, a familiar scent accosted him, followed swiftly by the irritated voice of the Emperor.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing, Nuri?
” Silver held onto him tightly when he tried to pull away, tipping his head down to glare at him.
For the most part, the mansion was dark, most of the lights switched off by Falc before he’d gone to bed.
But the glow from the front light outside and the still active communicator screen lit up the Emperor’s face.
He wasn’t just irritated, he was angry.
Nuri would have questioned it if not for the way his heart was pounding loudly in his ears.
The close proximity to Silver was affecting him already, almost as if his mind had completely forgotten how pissed off he was at the other man.
It was different from his usual reaction, more intense somehow, more vivid and distracting.
Something pulled at the center of his chest, a foreign sensation that momentarily had him frowning.
“The last I checked,” Silver drawled darkly, “you hurt your ankle, not your tongue. Answer the question. What are you doing down here in the middle of the night?”
He swallowed the lump in his throat and lifted his chin in the best show of defiance he could muster while still being held by the Emperor. “I’m going home.”
Silver seemed to be considering his next words carefully, but when he spoke they were rather plain. “You’re injured. You need someone to help take care of you while you heal.”
“Falc has enough on his plate already,” Nuri argued.
“Who said anything about Falc?”
“Who else would be taking care of me?” He quirked a brow. “It certainly wouldn’t be you, majesty.”
“Why not?”
“Because you haven’t taken care of anyone a day in your life,” Nuri told him honestly, “least of all me.” The Emperor was used to having his needs met and had always cared very little about helping others to meet theirs.
“Is that so?” Silver let him go so suddenly, Nuri fell against the side of the table.
Then without skipping a beat, Silver stormed over to the front door.
He practically slapped his palm against the key panel at the side, and yanked it open with enough force it was a wonder the thick wood didn’t completely tear off its hinges.
“You want to leave so badly?” He motioned with a dramatic sweeping of an arm as he held the door wide open. “Be my guest.”
Nuri already felt the gust of icy wind, could smell the frost on the air as it blew into the foyer, instantly causing his skin to prickle, but he turned to look outside anyway.
A heavy layer of snow decorated the stone steps leading down to the pathway, the porch only clean due to the awning that protected it.
The lights that trailed down the driveway helped illuminate the storm, making the large flakes of snow that were tumbling down easy to make out even in the dead of night.
He’d been so eager to go Nuri hadn’t even thought to check the weather forecast.
“That’s what I thought,” Silver taunted, and maybe it was because of the accident and some yet undiscovered head injury, but that had Nuri’s hackles rising.
His spine straightened and the next thing he knew, he was dragging his bandaged foot toward the door, intent on walking out into the storm as if to prove some point.
So what if he hadn’t gotten the chance to call for a cab.
He’d find one on the road or take public transportation.
Anything to get the hell out of here and away from that smug look painted across the Emperor’s devilish face.
He’d just placed a single foot over the threshold when Silver reacted. Nuri let out a cry of alarm as he was yanked back inside and immediately tossed over the other man’s shoulder like he weighed nothing.
Silver slammed the front door and turned, carrying Nuri across the foyer and then up the stairs, ignoring the way he struggled against him.
“What are you doing?!” Nuri demanded, trying and failing to shove himself upright, unable to with Silver’s arm pressed against the backs of his thighs, holding him in place.
The fact something like this had never happened before in all the years they’d known one another had his brain partially malfunctioning.
“Putting you where I can keep an eye on you.” Silver took the stairs two at a time, not even bothering to glance in Falc’s direction when the older man appeared at the end of the hallway leading to his room.
Falc was busy tying the sash to his silk sleeping robe, frowning at them as Silver walked past.
Nuri dropped his gaze, cheeks heating with embarrassment. Even as a kid, he’d always been extra careful to keep himself as composed as possible around the older gentleman, and in one fell swoop Silver had managed to dash all those efforts to shreds.
He buried his face against the soft material of Silver’s dress shirt, not daring to lift his head until he heard the click of a door lock. When he did, that initial panic he’d felt when Silver had lifted him returned tenfold. “What are we—”
Silver flipped him down onto the mattress set in the center of the room, holding onto the back of his right leg longer so his injury wasn’t as badly affected by the drop.
Once he had Nuri sprawled out on his back, he straightened.
But he didn’t move away. Instead, he hovered there, staring down through narrowed eyes, his enigmatic expression causing Nuri’s fight-or-flight instincts to kick into overdrive.
They were in the Emperor’s bedroom, with Nuri currently lying against the Emperor’s blood-red silk sheets.
As kids, he’d oftentimes be called in here to help Silver study or because he was bored, and once in a while he’d perch himself on the edge of the bed, sure, but never like this, and never as an adult.
The large velvet curtains had been drawn from the window on the other side of the room, painting the entire place in moonlight. From the moment they’d entered and Silver had been touched by it, he’d changed, his appearance altering to the secondary one he kept a mystery to the world.
Nuri had seen it before of course, since they’d roomed together it would have been impossible not to have, but it’d been a long time, and something about it always set his heart thumping wildly, the dirty thoughts kicking into overdrive, spurred on by the primal appearance of a Swift in their moon-kissed form.
Silver’s horns were such a dark shade of blue they were practically black, set just above his temples, curved back over the top of his head.
His hair had turned the shade of his namesake, like spun, delicate strands of metal that glistened in the light of the room.
His expression was the same, a mixture of anger and determination, but the sudden amethyst color of his eyes and the ring of vibrant gold that circled the irises somehow made him seem fiercer.
Very few people had seen this form, and Nuri was amongst them, something that always made him feel special for no real reason at all.
Only…something was different.