Chapter 20
Eiri
He needed to pull away. Every old instinct Eiri possessed was screaming at him, telling him he was in danger. Those he could ignore. He was too tired to keep fighting those old drives. It was the voice deeper down, the one that sounded a lot like his father, that was harder to quiet.
“You are Canjiri. You are a strong, proud raider who never runs from a fight, and yet look at you now. Crying in the arms of the enemy because you’re tired. Pathetic.”
And Eiri was dangerously close to crying, no matter how desperately he tried to hold it back.
His years spent on ships and skiffs, raiding up and down the southern coast of the continent, had all trained him to be strong, fast, quiet, resilient.
He’d learned to trust his crewmates, his fellow raiders.
They had to watch out for each other to ensure no one got left behind.
If a raider couldn’t trust their team more than their own family, they were as good as captured, and getting caught in Vaetreas was almost worse than death.
They trained for years preparing for their first run before being allowed to set foot on one of the sleek, quick raiding skiffs.
No amount of training could have prepared him for this.
For being by himself, constantly on guard with no one to watch his back, no idea who to trust, and not a single soul to turn to.
No crewmates, no family, no friends, his magic hidden to avoid having it locked down.
For the first time in his life, Eiri was truly, completely alone.
He’d been tired before. It came with being what he was. When they raided a town, it was fast and quiet, but every bit of energy was focused on surviving, then escaping, the enemy soldiers and mages. He’d been worn out before when raids went wrong and he had to use his magic to help them escape.
He’d never felt exhaustion like this. This seeped into his bones and leeched his strength, slowly but steadily, until his limbs were weighed down with it and it felt like he was underwater.
He’d never known what it was like to wake up with his chest tight, barely able to breathe when the reality of his situation settled in.
He’d never felt that sting of betrayal like when he’d learned Kien was spying on him and actively keeping him hostage in his new life.
Maybe seeking any comfort, even from a man he’d sworn to hate, made him weak and pathetic, like the voice in his head accused him of being, but he couldn’t find it in himself to step away.
Syrus was shorter than him but nearly twice as broad, his thick shoulders the perfect spot to bury his face until he could be sure he wouldn’t actually cry.
The powerful arms that had once wielded weapons that sought to cut Eiri apart now held him together as another shudder worked through his body.
This one didn’t stop, though, and before he knew it, he was trembling, everything catching up to him at once.
Kien’s words came back to him, taunting him, but he just couldn’t make himself believe them anymore, if he ever had to begin with.
Kien’s accusations had shaken the foundation of Eiri’s trust in Syrus, yet he’d shown up to this meeting anyway.
It was possible Syrus had convinced Xan and Ellis to go along with whatever plot he was creating, but it didn’t feel that way.
If Syrus were up to something, this would be the time to worm his way past Eiri’s guard, while he was exhausted and weak.
Instead, he said nothing at all. He just stood there, holding Eiri in his arms, giving him the quiet comfort Eiri hadn’t asked for but badly needed.
It seemed to take hours before he could stop shaking, but really he knew it had only been a few minutes.
Eiri was utterly drained by the time the storm passed, and he went limp, all but collapsing against Syrus’ chest. He didn’t complain, though.
He just held Eiri and let him take the time to settle his mind.
At some point, Eiri had wrapped his arms around Syrus’ waist in a loose hold.
He didn’t remember doing that, and he let his arms drop, leaving him oddly bereft.
Only then did Syrus finally shift. He didn’t let go of Eiri, just tilted his head a little so they could see each other.
“Is there anything you need?” he asked, low and warm, his dark eyes holding nothing but concern.
“A week of sleep?” Eiri suggested. He hadn’t let the tears fall, but his voice sounded like he’d been crying for hours, thick and rough.
“After we sort everything out, I’ll make sure you get as much sleep as you want. For now, I can do coffee or tea?”
“Tea would be good. Thank you.”
“Coming right up.”
They lingered a moment, Syrus still holding Eiri, neither of them wanting to be the first to pull away. Eiri knew they needed to get back to work, though, so he finally took a step back, giving Syrus an apologetic smile.
“Sorry,” he murmured. Embarrassment swept in now that he could think more clearly, and he looked away, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt.
“Don’t apologize.” Syrus stopped mid-step.
“The last few weeks have been a nightmare for you, and you’ve handled it far better than I have.
You have nothing to be sorry for.” With surprisingly gentle fingers, he traced Eiri’s cheek down to his chin, tilting his face up with a light touch until their eyes met.
“Thank you for trusting me enough to let me be with you.”
Time slowed around them, the room and the people waiting for them and everything else fading into the background, until Syrus was the only thing in focus.
The soft touch of his fingers, the warmth of his body, so close to Eiri.
The distance between them disappeared, and he had no idea who’d moved, or maybe they both had.
Syrus’ arm slid around his waist, bringing them closer still, his other hand still gently touching Eiri’s face.
He could pull away if he wanted to. Syrus wasn’t trapping him. He could step back and end this before it went any further. It would be the smart thing to do.
Eiri ran his hands up Syrus’ arms, feeling the corded muscle only hinted at beneath his somber shirts.
He didn’t stop until he’d reached those shoulders that had held him together just a few minutes ago.
Solid and warm beneath his hands, he couldn’t help but hold on, bringing them even closer, until he was again leaning against Syrus’ chest, trusting the other man to support him.
The touch on his chin turned to a gentle caress as Syrus traced his fingertips along Eiri’s cheekbone, up and down, before trailing down the side of his throat in a featherlight tease that sent a shiver down Eiri’s spine.
His breath caught as Syrus’ exploration continued, callused fingers dipping beneath the edge of his shirt to the hollow of his throat, and a wave of soft heat bloomed low in his stomach.
There was a question in Syrus’ eyes when Eiri looked up at him, lips parted as he tried to catch his breath. He nodded, just once. In this moment, there was nothing he wanted more than this.
Syrus’ touch shifted, coming to rest on the side of Eiri’s throat, a gentle, soothing hold that steadied him as Syrus lifted his head, their breaths mingling for an instant before their lips met.
When Eiri was seven, he’d fallen overboard while out on the ocean with his parents.
Beneath the placid waters, a riptide lay hidden, and it pulled him in before he could swim to safety.
Trapped beneath the gentle waves, it swept him away, tumbling him head over heels until he no longer knew which way was up.
In that instant, even at a young age, he’d known he wasn’t going to make it.
As the darkness closed in, a flicker of something fierce and wild sparked to life in his chest. It surged out of him, the cool water churning and pushing, the wavering sun beckoning him from beneath the waves until he broke the surface of the water, gasping for breath, his entire world remade as his nascent magic made itself known.
Kissing Syrus felt the same. Like his entire world had turned upside down, setting him adrift, and Syrus was the sunlight guiding him.
The arm around his waist kept him close, but he wanted to get closer, to feel the heat of Syrus’ body sinking into him.
The rough hand at his throat traced delicate lines across his skin as he tilted his head, finding the perfect angle to shift the kiss into something deeper.
The desire unwinding within him for this man surprised him with its intensity, surging to life within him like his magic once had.
One of them made a noise, a soft moan, but he couldn’t be sure which of them it was.
Distantly, he knew the others were waiting for them, but he couldn’t make himself care right now.
He wrapped his arms around Syrus’ shoulders, shivered when the touch at his throat shifted to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, the heat of his own need matched by the desire in Syrus’ kiss.
What had started as comfort became carnal, hungry and aching for more, more contact, more skin, just more.
“If you two don’t open the door, I’m going to assume you killed each other and get the guards involved!”
Even muffled by the door, Xan’s words broke through the haze around them, shattering the bubble they’d built around themselves, and the real world came rushing back in, along with his thinking mind.
The two of them were still as close as it was possible to get, and he could feel how much that kiss had affected Syrus, his hard length pressing against Eiri’s stomach.
He wasn’t the only one, though. The force of his newfound desire for the other man shocked Eiri now that he could think clearly.