Chapter 35 #7
A low rumble reverberated through the room, and at first Rowan thought it was thunder again, but the sound emanated from his husband. Yves lunged, eyes pitch black and murderous, as if he would seize Fox and break him right there.
“Yves!”
Yves’s body stilled, as if commanded by some inexplicable force. He let out another growl, shadows writhing at his back and hands balled into fists at his sides. His teeth ground together so hard Rowan could almost hear it.
Finally, Fox sat up. Possibly the slowest anyone had ever sat up.
Or it was Rowan’s impending horror that slowed time so that the blanket seemed to ripple down Fox’s chest, Rowan chanting don’t be naked don’t be naked over and over in his head with every inch of skin that was revealed.
Fox, seemingly unaware of the danger, rubbed his eyes as the blanket fell away and the windows backlit him with rosy light.
Fox was, of course, as naked as the day he was born.
Oh gods, Rowan’s luck had finally abandoned him. Why did he have to be naked and make this situation so much more incriminating?
As Fox rubbed sleep from his eyes, Yves lunged again.
Fox’s eyes flew wide, finally registering the situation.
He seized a pillow and swung, nearly walloping Yves in the face, but Rowan caught Yves’s arm and yanked him back.
Fox stared at them wide-eyed, his cheek creased by heavy sleep as Rowan pried Yves’s fist open and threaded their fingers together.
Fox still held his pillow weapon up, ready to fight or flee.
Thankfully, in his sleepiness, he hadn’t gone for the knife Rowan kept under his pillow.
“Did you miss topping so much you had to take this temptress into your bed? Or is this revenge?” Yves said. Rowan expected anger, and it was there on the surface, but something else lurked deeper. Something Yves himself was unlikely to confront. Grief.
“It’s not like that,” Rowan said quietly. He grabbed Yves’s chin and forced him to look away from the other man in his husband’s bed. Forced him to look Rowan in the eye. “He’s been sleeping here. Just sleeping. Because he is lonely with Gael gone. Nothing untoward happened. I promise.”
Yves’s eyes flickered to human, then to demon obsidian and back again. But he kept them locked on Rowan. Where their fingers were laced together, his hand trembled.
And Rowan realized suddenly that he’d never seen Yves’s demon side while wearing his eyepatch, but it was here now, fighting for dominance. And it had been perfectly visible out on deck as the storm raged around them.
“Get out,” Yves growled at Fox. Fox’s wide green gaze flicked between the two captains, unaware of the inhuman echoes in Yves’s voice or the shadows that threatened to snuff out the morning light suffusing the room.
Slowly, he put the pillow down and climbed out of bed, heedless of his nakedness.
Keeping an eye on Yves, he crossed to an open chest and drew out an emerald green dressing gown Yves had left some time ago.
Yves’s nostrils flared in indignation as Fox settled it around his shoulders, not bothering to cinch it closed, and breezed from the room like a courtesan leaving the royal marriage bed.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Yves began to shake. Rowan reached up to cup the side of his face, but Yves squeezed his eyes shut, slowly sinking to his knees on the damp rug. His shaking hands clutched Rowan’s shirt as he pressed his forehead to Rowan’s stomach.
“I swear it’s the truth. I would never betray you.” Rowan tried to sink down beside him, but Yves’s hold only tightened.
Yves’s breath came shallow, like he was swallowing back sobs and trying to contain the demon at the same time.
“Yves?”
When his eyes opened, they were fully human again.
“I—” Another shallow, aching breath. And Rowan knew, beyond any doubt, the true depths of Yves’s love for him.
“I love you, Yves. I only want you.” He caressed Yves’s sodden hair, wishing he could smooth the anguished lines from his brow.
When Yves’s voice came, it was shaky. “I told you my mercy was yours to command. That includes mercy for little freckled temptresses with perky asses.” He paused, then kissed Rowan’s palm. “If you say it is the truth, then I believe you. Just…don’t go.”
Rowan frowned, trying to puzzle through what he meant.
Did Yves think he would leave him? Or was he using this to guilt Rowan into giving up on his pursuit of Zanta?
He opened his mouth to protest. To say he could go wherever he pleased, and Yves’s apologies changed nothing about the course he had chosen, but Yves interrupted him.
“Please, Rowan. I thought I’d lost you. You can’t go without me.” His voice was desperate, almost broken. “I don’t care if you slept with him or not. I just need you to be mine.”
Any uncertainty that may have lingered at the bottom of Rowan’s heart drained away. He sank to his knees, gathering Yves to him. He kissed him again. “I won’t leave you behind.”
He would drag Yves and the demon both kicking and screaming into death with him if that was what Yves wanted.