Chapter Seventeen
Cormal
Adding in having sex with Kinan to his already full schedule meant that Cormal wasn’t quite getting enough sleep, but it was entirely worth it.
The last time Cormal had been involved with someone, it had been a man who didn’t know him at all and had simply admired what Cormal could do with fire—quite possibly because Brannal had already been taken.
The relationship—if it could be called that—had fizzled out quickly.
There had been physical relief, but that was about it.
Cormal hadn’t been able to totally relax.
Kinan, on the other hand, had seen Cormal at his absolute worst and, inexplicably, was still interested in him.
Cormal still sort of expected to learn that it was a mistake somehow, only Kinan was flatteringly attentive.
From barely holding on and scarcely talking to anyone, Cormal suddenly had a lot of people that he was involved with again. Admittedly, his attempts to apologize weren’t progressing as he’d hoped, but it was still some progress.
No, the Princess, Molun, and Arvus hadn’t forgiven him. But just occasionally, he caught Molun or Arvus looking at him funny, as though he was demonstrating that he wasn’t only the asshole who’d hurt Perian and Brannal so much.
In the meantime, training Livala was a source of deep satisfaction. Each time she beamed at him because she had better control over her fire, because she could do something now that she hadn’t been able to do yesterday, was viscerally satisfying.
“Why does it take so much work to light and snuff the candle?” she wanted to know.
He smiled at her. “An element manifestation is almost always a big event. Whatever it is that makes the magic happen in us, it usually comes out explosively—literally, for Fire Mages. There aren’t always emotions involved, but usually there are.”
Brannal had been terrified for his family. Cormal, probably predictably, had been angry.
Livala nodded commiseratingly. “Like when your mom tells you you can’t go riding if it keeps raining, and four days later, when it’s still raining like it will never stop, you accidentally try to set the rain on fire.”
Cormal coughed a laugh. Yeah, they’d talked at length about her manifestation. Thankfully, the rain had prevented the fire from getting out of control.
“Exactly. And somehow, people don’t have the same reaction if you manifest water to put out a fire for the first time.
Either way, though, it’s big feelings. Our element bursts forth.
By contrast, trying to hone our control so that we can use or restrict only the smallest amount of fire takes a lot more effort in the beginning.
You’re still used to those big feelings, but that’s not what you’re trying to replicate anymore.
As you practice and get more comfortable with your element, it becomes second nature. ”
Livala’s face settled into lines of determination. There would probably be a lot of melted candles in her future, but Cormal didn’t doubt for a moment that she’d get there.
Weirdly, he felt more like Summus than he ever had.
But that didn’t mean he deserved the title.
And as his feelings for Kinan grew, Cormal was in more of a position than ever to understand why Brannal had been willing to do anything for Perian—and why, contrary to what Cormal had spent all his time thinking, it didn’t mean a carnalion had seduced him.
Maybe Perian had seduced him to start; Cormal didn’t know how that worked.
But he could state pretty categorically that at the very least, it hadn’t been the only influence.
Cormal felt like his entire life had been turned upside down thanks to Kinan’s interest in him, and he knew there was nothing demonic about that.
He’d had fun with Brannal. They’d tumbled into bed, both of them young, both of them inexperienced.
Cormal had definitely had a crush, and in retrospect, he’d placed way too much significance on a handful of pleasant-enough experiences between young people.
Looking back, it was entirely obvious that Brannal had never liked Cormal the way Cormal had liked him, not even when they were together.
In short, he’d wasted a lot of time on something that had never actually existed. And it was only now, as he was tumbling into this new relationship with Kinan, that Cormal was fully realizing that the relationship from years ago had been a lot less meaningful than he’d thought.
He felt better than he had in a long time—apart from all that guilt about all the things he’d destroyed. But he was working on fixing that instead of drowning in rage.
He and Kinan now had a standing appointment after dinner.
Ostensibly, they were still looking through the books for a cure for Kinan.
And they did do that, sometimes. They also had more hot and steamy sessions that left both of them sated and content.
Kinan had grown more confident and would now sometimes tell Cormal what to do.
Cormal hadn’t had the slightest idea before they started this how a voice, a look, and his own hand could be so arousing.
Even more than that, though, they just talked.
Cormal hadn’t felt like anyone had listened to him in months, and Kinan hadn’t been able to talk to anyone but his sister in years.
It was liberating to be able to say what they wanted to one another.
Kinan had even grown comfortable enough with Cormal that he didn’t censor himself anymore every time Perian came up—and of course he did, because he’d spent a lot of time with Princess Larenia and Kinan, and he’d changed their entire existence.
Cormal had messed all of that up, but Kinan had accepted his apology and taken him at his word that he was being better now—to the point that he would even talk about Perian and Brannal, at least in certain contexts, as if Cormal hadn’t ruined everything and as though he knew that Cormal wasn’t going to totally overreact anymore.
“And Perian said it wasn’t like they needed instruction, but they could pick poses for fun.
I think they enjoyed looking at it together.
I, uh, might have asked if I could borrow it, but at the time, he couldn’t think of a way of doing that which wouldn’t mean bringing it to Renny, which was obviously not going to happen.
I, uh, didn’t even know they put that kind of thing in books. ”
He looked embarrassed, and Cormal wanted to pull him into a hug.
“To be honest,” Cormal admitted, “I hadn’t really thought about it myself. I guess I lack imagination.”
Kinan shot him a scorching look. “I can attest to the fact that your imagination isn’t lacking in any way.”
Cormal laughed, feeling his cheeks heat faintly. “Thank you.”
And that was yet one more reason to try to apologize to Brannal and Perian. If they actually listened, Cormal would ask about the book and try to get a copy for Kinan. He’d been restricted for so long, and he should get whatever he wanted.
Not that long ago, Cormal would have taken that book as another indication that Brannal had been seduced by a carnalion. Now… well, now he rather thought he understood being besotted with someone, and he was impressed with Brannal’s creativity.
“I’m sorry,” Kinan said, snapping Cormal out of his thoughts. “Does it bother you when I talk about Brannal and Perian like that?”
Cormal frowned. “No, I’ve been—I thought I was being better about that.”
But Kinan was shaking his head. “You’ve been really good about them. I mean… does it bother you when I talk about them like a… a couple.”
Oh.
Cormal blew out a breath. “You know, I assumed it would? I do care very much for Brannal, but it’s been an embarrassingly long time since we were together, and it was only for a very short time when we were teenagers.
We were never meant to be together, and deep down, I think I knew that, but of course, I didn’t acknowledge it.
I’ve had to acknowledge a lot of things recently, and honestly, that’s really the least of it. ”
It felt a bit weird and oddly freeing to make that confession. Cormal still cared about Brannal, and he was sure that he always would, but he wasn’t in love with him.
Kinan was so good at listening, at giving Cormal the chance to speak his mind—and Cormal made sure that he was listening, too, encouraging the man to talk about anything and everything. To try to make up, in a small way, for all the years where so few people had heard him.
Kinan also asked a lot of questions, and he seemed to like to hear Cormal’s opinions on pretty much everything.
And despite the fact that Kinan should be filled only with judgment towards Cormal, he wasn’t.
Oh, he would tell Cormal when he thought that he was being an ass, and he would call him on being stupid or mean or unkind, though Cormal really was trying to be better about that.
But just like he’d said back in the beginning, that wasn’t everything.
He’d made space for Cormal to be more, and as a result, Cormal was more.
Cormal had space now to reveal those other parts of himself, to not wear so much armor, to work on being his better self.
He felt so privileged to be with this man—who in his turn, seemed grateful that Cormal was looking at him and seeing him and being with him.
Cormal found himself constantly amazed by how well they fit together, as well as altogether certain that Cormal was getting the better deal.
Did everyone feel this way in a relationship?
The only person he might be able to ask was Delana, and Cormal wasn’t quite ready to go there.
Was it selfish to want to keep Kinan to himself? Probably.