Chapter Eighteen
J em’s pisshead brother stood framed by the thick, hanging leaves. Eyes wide, he stared, and Cador barked, “Leave us!” with all the authority he could manage while Jem was exposed and his own prick hung out.
Pasco’s mouth opened and closed, a furrow forming between his brows as he leaned to peer around Cador. Cador kept Jem safe behind him. It seemed to take Pasco a few seconds to register that his brother was more or less naked from the waist down except his boots.
“What are you—” Pasco’s gaze narrowed on Cador’s hand and the flecks of blood on his pale skin. He drew himself up, puffing his chest even though his muscles couldn’t compare to Cador’s. “What did you do to my brother?”
“None of your business,” Cador gritted out. “Leave us!” He knew Jem was surely humiliated to be caught exposed.
But Jem huffed and elbowed him before peeking out. “I’m fine! Truly. We were, well, you can guess. We got a bit, er, carried away.”
Pasco’s dark brows shot up. “To say the least. Did this beast hurt you? Jem, I won’t let him harm you. Tell me the truth!” He glared at Cador. “He can snarl all he wants—he’s outnumbered here.”
“Not at the moment.” Cador glared back. “Now leave us.”
Jem made a soft sound of distress. “Really, I’m not hurt. It was—I wanted it. I begged for it, all right? And now I need new breeches for I can’t return to the castle like this!”
After a few moments, Pasco laughed uncertainly. “Truly? I didn’t think you had it in you, little brother.” His handsome, smug face transformed into a grin. “I’m impressed.”
“Oh, shut up,” Jem mumbled.
Pasco’s grin vanished. “However, we do have a problem since Mother is looking for you.”
Jem groaned. “Tell me she’s not steps behind you.”
“Fortunately for you, no. I wanted to find you first. We need to talk.” His gaze flicked to Cador. “All of us.”
What was Pasco playing at? Cador didn’t trust him at all—though he had to grudgingly respect the bastard being concerned for his brother’s welfare. Speaking of which, Cador said, “Fine, but Jem needs trousers.”
Pasco smirked. “Agreed. As much as I might enjoy making you squirm, baby brother, I’ll fetch you fresh clothes. Do stay out of sight until I return.”
“Thank you,” Jem muttered. His fingers tightened on Cador’s ribs. “But it’ll be ages by the time you walk back up to the castle.”
“I took a carriage as far as I could. You and Santo are the only ones who traipse down on foot.” He flicked his fingers. “Now shoo lest someone else come along. We have enough scandals on our hands.”
Pasco disappeared, and Jem rested his head against Cador’s back. “I suppose it could have been worse.”
Cador grunted, moving to unbutton his borrowed silk shirt. His fingers were clumsy, and when Jem realized what he was doing, he came around to help. He batted away Cador’s hands and easily worked the buttons.
There was a faint smear of blood at his hairline, and Cador tasted bile again, barely resisting the urge to grasp Jem’s head and examine whatever these wounds were.
The more he considered it, the more certain Cador was that Jem was right. Yes, their fucking had been intense and rough, but he hadn’t gouged wounds into Jem’s scalp. He checked his fingernails again to be sure.
Who had hurt Jem?
Cador’s breath came short as he imagined all the ways he could shock and overpower the bastard. Make them pay. Make them suffer. No one spilled a drop of Jem’s blood and got away with it. Whatever had happened, he’d find out.
He shrugged out of the shirt, and Jem wrapped it around his slim waist before leading the way deeper into the trees. Cador ducked under low-hanging branches, the foliage dense and close around them. Birds sang, and no breeze reached the hiding spot.
He thought of chasing Jem through the pine forest on Ergh as Jem desperately ran away from Cador and Delen, terrified of what he’d heard. The agony of watching helplessly as Jem leapt from the Cliffs of Glaw as Cador’s own brother tried to cut him down.
Now here they were a world away, Cador’s bollocks tender from spending so fully. Where had the blood come from? He wanted to ease Jem into his arms and coax the truth from him about the strange wounds, but Jem stood stiffly with arms crossed, his gaze on their boots.
“Are you all right?” Cador asked quietly.
A nerve twitched in Jem’s cheek as he clenched his jaw. “The marauding woodsman doesn’t—”
“I’m your husband. No more games. Who hurt you?”
“No one,” Jem muttered, eyes still downcast.
“Why won’t you tell me? Who are you protecting?”
He shook his head, curls waving. “No one, I told you. Are you going to accuse me of infidelity? When would I have had the time to find a lover at the castle?”
Cador breathed through the surge of frustration. “I’m not accusing you of anything. But I know you’re lying, and I want to understand why.”
Jem’s sharp gaze pierced him. “Oh, you know, do you? How? You lied to me for months and I was none the wiser.”
“Because you’re good and trusting. And not a convincing liar. I wish I hadn’t been able to deceive you. All I can do is promise I never will again. You are my greatest joy. If you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving my devotion.”
Jem’s throat worked as he swallowed with a gulp . His honey eyes lit up with hope even as he clearly tried to fight it.
Cador sank to his knees, leaves rustling beneath him. Branches scratched his bare back and shoulders. He kept his arms at his sides even though he ached to pull Jem close.
“Please believe me.” He peered up at Jem as he had on the cliff top. “My love—my little prince.”
“I did it,” Jem blurted. His lips trembled, his eyes filling with tears.
“What?”
Jem motioned to his head. “I did it.”
It took a few heartbeats like Massen’s pounding hooves to understand. Cador shot to his feet, ignoring the scrape of branches. He fought to keep his hands steady as he gently parted Jem’s thick hair. Jem dropped his head, apparently surrendering.
Some scratches were almost healed. Others were scabbed with dried blood and a few were fresh marks. It hurt to see, and Cador wished he could heal these wounds with touch and kisses and promises. He could only whisper, “Why?”
Head still bent, Jem was silent so long it seemed he wouldn’t answer.
Then he did. “I’m not really sure. It’s bizarre, I know.
But I kept thinking about the sack suffocating me and the cliff and Bryok cutting off my head.
The pain…cleared my mind somehow. It became a strange habit when the memories struck, and I could barely breathe. When the nightmares wouldn’t stop.”
Cador wanted to scream his fury to the fickle gods. He cursed Bryok’s name in his heart. He cursed Tas and Delen and most of all himself for being part of the terrible choices that led Jem to Ergh.
He wanted to hunt down Jem’s pain and tear it to pieces with his bare hands. But he could only caress Jem’s head with the gentlest of touches and wrap him in his arms, Jem’s tears dampening his bare chest.
“I’m sorry,” Cador croaked. “If I could go back and change it all, I would. I’d never stop until I could keep you safe. I swear it. And I swear I’ll never let anyone hurt you again. I’ll never hurt you again.”
Jem sobbed against him, his words almost lost. “I believe you.”
Cador longed to hear the words more clearly. Was he forgiven? At least partly? Was there hope to win back Jem? Was it true? Jem had to hear the thunder of Cador’s heart under his ear.
For now, Jem was folded into his arms, allowing Cador to comfort him, and it had to be enough.
Still, after long minutes passed and Jem’s tears slowed, Cador found he was greedy for more.
A kiss wasn’t too much to ask, was it? Merely a peck—the feel of those perfect lips against his.
He’d been so deeply inside Jem’s body, his seed surely still wet in Jem’s arse.
Yet the thought of a simple kiss seemed so much more.
“My little prince,” Cador murmured. He drew back only enough to lift Jem’s chin with his fingers. Jem slumped against him bonelessly, his tear-streaked face open and vulnerable. Cador traced Jem’s full lips with his thumb.
Dipping low, Cador slowly brought their mouths together, only a breath between them—
The onslaught of footsteps through the trees and bushes were too loud to be only Pasco, and as the guards took shape, rushing out with swords drawn, Cador only had time to think that he should have known better than to trust the bastard before he launched into battle with only his bare hands.