Chapter 9
Nicholas
Eyes still heavy with sleep, Nicholas flipped to a fresh page in his journal, quickly jotting down the details from this latest dream.
The monster had a prisoner now; the beautiful man he’d passionately made love to several dreams ago.
Nicholas realized these new events must have happened before the two of them fell in love.
He wished he had thought to document things a lot sooner to create a more accurate timeline.
He made a mental note to chronicle what he still remembered.
The monster held the beautiful man captive in this dream. He’d hunted him, bound his hands and feet, and had been traveling with him by horseback for several nights.
It was on the third day, after setting up camp inside a small cave, that the monster spoke his first words.
“Why do they want you dead?”
It was spoken in a melodic language that Nicholas somehow understood; the dialect emphatic, hard consonants rolling violently into neighboring vowels.
He didn’t have access to the monster’s thoughts, only his sight and emotions, his pain and pleasure.
Nicholas didn’t get the impression that the monster genuinely cared about why anyone would want the man dead, though.
He just seemed curious as to why anyone would find the seemingly inconsequential man a threat.
He flinched at the slightest flutter within the foliage above, and his breath quickened every time the monster so much as glanced at him. Other than more flinching and heavy breathing, the monster didn’t get a response from him.
Nicholas drew a rough sketch of him, from the tunic that hung loose on his slender frame, to his large, muddy green eyes filled with unshed tears.
His wrists were raw from twisting in his restraints, and a purple bruise colored the dark skin of his cheek.
Had the monster hit him? Nicholas squinted, trying hard to recollect.
“Why were you his prisoner?” Nicholas whispered, shading in his long, straight hair.
Clearly, someone wanted him dead, but what did that have to do with the monster? Was he the monster’s bounty? Was the cold, savage man with eyes the color of oblivion hired to find him?
Nicholas was no artist, but he did his best to get everything right, down to his button nose. He’d seemed so innocent and sheltered, overstimulated by everything around him.
Nicholas scribbled again, detailing their mornings avoiding the sun and their nights riding alongside the moon.
The beautiful man refused to eat or drink, seeming to weaken with each passing day.
By the fifth night, the monster became lax with his frail captive, leaving him alone by the fire while he stalked a bloated oryx for its blood.
That part always repulsed Nicholas, while also intensifying his near-persistent thirst. He’d started keeping water by his bedside in recent days.
On the sixth night, the monster cut the binds around the man’s ankles, allowing him to venture into the nearby underbrush to relieve himself.
Nicholas scribbled faster as the finer details began to fade.
Something sharp pressed against the monster’s side. The monster’s heart rate skyrocketed, but outwardly he remained calm as a deep, steady voice demanded, “On your knees.”
Nicholas hadn’t been sure what was going on. Had someone else found them? Was the beautiful man dead? Or was he now someone else’s prisoner?
Heat filled the monster’s body.
Rage, Nicholas guessed, and although he wasn’t a corporeal voyeur, he’d felt the scorch of it. Even now, the stench of smoke filled his nostrils.
“Kneel now!”
The voice held authority, command, as though the person holding the blade was confident in what they could do with it.
Nicholas tried to remember the exact words the monster said in response and the arrogance conveyed in his tone.
“I see I’ve underestimated you, but I kneel for no one.”
The monster spun out of the blade’s way, leaping back as it arced upward, slicing through his tunic. Time froze as he stared into the chasmic eyes of the beautiful man. Skill and calculation had replaced tears and innocence. And the blade he wielded was actually the monster’s sword.
The monster glanced to where his empty sheath lay before withdrawing a mean-looking dagger from the scabbard at his waist. He parried the next strike.
Steel met steel, and the monster’s horse neighed from where it stood hitched to a tree.
Nicholas kicked his blanket away, furiously filling page after page as the morning rain assaulted his bedroom window.
By the time the monster gained the upper hand, taking the beautiful man to the forest floor, they were both wounded and out of breath.
Nicholas could feel the body of the man beneath the monster, could feel the monster’s shock at finding lean muscle beneath the excessive fabric he wore.
The monster dragged the man to his feet, pinning him to the bark of a tree. He leaned in, voice rough and menacing.
“Who are you?”
Pen still poised on the sheet of paper, Nicholas asked himself the same thing. Who was the beautiful man?
Nicholas’s phone chirped, jolting him from deep thought. An email from Eliana lit up the screen.
From: Eliana@
To: N.Armahn@
Subject: Termination effective immediately.
Harsh subject line, considering how Nicholas debased himself for her profit. Maybe the twins not getting their money’s worth had caused her problems, or maybe she cared that something could’ve gone wrong at The Vault last night. Gabriel did say she seemed concerned.
It didn’t matter either way. She’d saved him the trouble of formally quitting.
Nicholas wrapped his fingers around the lapels of Gabriel’s suit jacket.
He’d slept in it after numerous attempts at removing it left him feeling jittery.
It held Gabriel’s scent. Masculine, woodsy, summer rain in the middle of the forest with a hint of spiced tobacco.
It smelled like untouched earth, like the very first of everything ever.
He thought back on those hours spent with Gabriel, on all the cryptic things he’d said.
“I can’t answer that for you right now, Nicholas. But I promise, when the time comes, I will tell you everything.”
What did that even mean? Those confusing, foreboding words only left Nicholas wanting to know more. He should’ve asked for clarity, but he couldn’t because Gabriel was touching him. All things were simultaneously better and worse when Gabriel touched him.
Nicholas groaned, burying his face in his pillow as he remembered the way he’d practically purred like a love-starved kitten. Gabriel had only grazed his fingertips over his scalp. What would Nicholas do with a kiss? With more?
He squirmed, the fine fabric of the jacket suddenly abrasive against his overheated skin. Nicholas tried to calm the lust gathering like storm clouds low in his stomach, and had almost managed it when he remembered the feel of Gabriel’s lips brushing away his tears.
“You’re beautiful,” he’d said to Gabriel. “Terrifying, but beautiful.”
Gabriel reminded him of an inferno. Dangerous but attractive. Excruciatingly hot, but tempting.
The playback of last night continued, the taste of spiced rice and lamb coating his tongue.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like I belong to you. Like, somehow, this makes me yours.”
Like I belong to you…
Like I belong to you…
Like I belong to you…
Nicholas’s bedroom faded, and suddenly he was the one riding Gabriel’s cock inside that sacred cave. He was the one who’d drunk from the blood-rich vein at Gabriel’s neck—the same vein he’d stroked last night.
Massasu Dimae…
Nicholas arched off the bed, skin tightening as he fought to catch his breath. Lost in this vision, he felt around the nightstand for the glass of water there, wondering if the leftover dregs would be enough to cool his searing skin.
“If I had any say in the matter, you’d never leave my side, Nicholas.”
“Mmm…” he moaned, knocking items off the nightstand in search of the water.
His hole clenched tightly around Gabriel’s phantom cock, his own length leaking, dampening his briefs.
His teeth felt too big for his mouth, his gums fiery hot. With a curse that made him want to repent, Nicholas shoved a hand below his waistband, fisted his dick, and came on a cry that rattled the glass he’d failed to reach.
The orgasm left him wrecked, faint, and in need of something more. At least he was back in his body, back in his room. He’d only felt transported this way one other time and wondered if he’d need a second journal for these waking dreams, too.
He wiped his hand clean on the blanket, then used the edge of it to clear the cum off his lower abdomen.
The last of the water provided only a mild sense of relief, but something was better than nothing. Setting the glass aside, he inspected Gabriel’s jacket with trembling hands, thankful he hadn’t stained it.
Carefully removing it, he stumbled his way into the shower. The cold water prickled painfully, but he remained under the spray for nearly half an hour, until the heat under his skin had been extinguished. Hot tea became his next priority. Maybe then he’d be able to think.
Nicholas sipped from his steaming mug, his legs folded under him as he rain-watched from the couch.
For a brief moment, he considered using the inclement weather as an excuse to cancel his plans with Gabriel, but the weather was always tempestuous in Irongard, and the idea of not seeing him caused a sharp ache in his chest.
For the third time, he glanced to where his phone and the card with Gabriel’s number rested on the end table beside him. Delaying the inevitable was silly, and trying to hold out only made him more anxious, made him want Gabriel even more.
Nicholas set his mug down, giving in to what he wanted, even if he wasn’t clear on why.
Gabriel answered on the first ring, the timbre of his voice making a simple greeting sound authoritative.
“Hello, Nicholas.”
The inclusion of his name always made Gabriel’s words that much more intense, as if he wanted Nicholas to know he was serious.
That, along with the way Gabriel’s gaze seemed to pierce right through him, made Nicholas both nervous and aroused.
It was like nothing else existed but him. Like nothing else mattered to Gabriel.
“Um, hi. How did you know it was me?” He hadn’t given him his number.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone else’s call.”
“Do you typically only get calls that you’re expecting?” What a stupid follow-up, but Nicholas wasn’t experienced at this, and well, Gabriel unsettled him, made it hard to come up with anything more clever to say.
“You’re one of only three people who have this number. Marcus prefers to text, and Hamza prefers to barge in without invitation.”
“Makes sense.”
Silence rippled down the line as he tried to think of something else to say. He wasn’t any good over the phone. Thankfully, Gabriel stepped in.
“How did you sleep?” His voice lowered, as if he knew the answer wouldn’t be pleasant. It made Nicholas cautious, suspicious, but then he remembered that he’d told Gabriel about his bad dreams. He uncurled his fingers, staring at the crescent marks on his palm.
“I guess I slept okay. A dream woke me up, but I was able to get in some solid hours beforehand.”
Gabriel went quiet, and Nicholas got the feeling he was waiting for more.
“I don’t feel like rehashing it right now.” How did he explain dreams that didn’t feel like dreams at all? He couldn’t. Not without coming off unstable.
“I’m here if you ever want to talk about it. Maybe I can help you make sense of them.”
Nicholas doubted that. “So, what time do you want to meet?”
“Does now work for you?”
Nicholas bit his lip to hold in his smile. He didn’t get why someone like Gabriel seemed so interested in him, then he remembered Gabriel’s dead lover, remembered that he reminded Gabriel of him. That sobered Nicholas.
“I can pick you up,” Gabriel offered.
“No, I’ll meet you there.”
Nicholas needed at least one Gabriel-free space. Somewhere he could retreat to when it all became too much. He read the address off for their meetup, agreeing to be there within the hour.
He quickly dressed, folded Gabriel’s jacket into a bag, and hurried to meet his Uber driver downstairs.