Chapter Three #3
“You’re lucky you’re so cute. We’ll shuffle around very close to the cave, and you will not complain when it’s time to come back in.”
“Agreed.” Tor accepted with alacrity, knowing a good deal when he heard it.
Somehow, Pel’s concern didn’t come across as suffocating or as censorious as Varex’s did.
“Do you want company?” Bavil asked.
“No, thank you,” Tor said. “We’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” Pel asked, eyeing him carefully.
“Absolutely,” Tor confirmed. “We both know that if either of us yelled, everyone would come running.”
Beluna regarded them with a gimlet stare. “I am willing to give you the illusion of privacy, but if you even think of straying too far, don’t think I won’t drag your princely ass back here by your boots.”
Tor grinned. “Understood.”
Pel rolled his eyes. “Let’s get going. Don’t think I won’t order you back if necessary.”
Tor didn’t doubt it for a second. He wasn’t about to argue that he was at his best right now. He felt strangely torn between a deep hole in his core where his magic and energy were supposed to be… but also a frantic need to go find Ada right now.
His stomach gurgled suddenly.
“Hungry?” Pel asked.
Tor’s stomach made an even louder noise.
Pel laughed, and Bavil said, “We’ll make sure some food is prepared. Don’t stray too far.”
Tor needed at least a little bit of privacy, but he could see the wisdom of that. He genuinely wasn’t sure if he could use his magic yet, and even if he could, he doubted he was up to his regular strength or reaction time.
Pel had his bow and quiver with him, along with a sword and dagger.
Tor had none of his weapons, but honestly, he doubted he could wield them right now.
If he was really lucky, nearly dying in Alossa had been enough to slip Tor from the net that he now assumed had been closing around him for quite some time.
They still needed to be cautious, but waylaying their small group would have been a lot easier than attacking the castle. That gave Tor hope.
Stepping out of the cave was a relief. The last time Tor remembered being outside was the day he and Pel had gone into the castle in Nexa, when Tor had naively assumed he could easily straighten everything out with his brother.
Since then, he’d been tossed in a dungeon, thrown himself out a window, and woken up in a cave on the opposite side of the United Realms. Two weeks later, apparently.
He could breathe more easily out in the open. The sky was leaden and gray, but it wasn’t raining at the moment. The air was fresh and mild, reminding him that summer was in full swing now. A light breeze tickled his skin.
He drew several deep breaths, ignoring the pinch in his side.
Pel helped him pick his way carefully away from the cave entrance.
Rocks and debris made the ground treacherous for someone who hadn’t been ambulatory for a couple of weeks, and Pel carefully guided him around trees, shrubs, and plants of various sizes.
(Pel, Beluna, Cavun, and Denil must have carried Tor everywhere when he wasn’t in the boat. It was a weird thought.)
Once they were out of sight of the cave, Pel made sure Tor had a private spot where he could relieve himself, and then they headed a bit farther on.
Tor noticed that Pel directed them in an easterly direction so that the bulk of the mountain was behind them and Tor didn’t have to look at it.
A weird ache thrummed in Tor’s chest, different from all the other aches and pains in his body.
He wasn’t quite sure what he’d done to deserve someone like Pel.
In fact, he was pretty sure he’d done various things to not deserve him.
And yet here they were. Tor needed to worry about his family—and possibly the fate of the entirety of the United Realms—but there were other matters he absolutely had to address first.
“Sooo,” he said, stretching the word out. Everyone in that cave knew most of their business already, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to say some things in private. “Bonded?”
Pel blinked at him, something a little cautious and uncertain in his eyes. He gave a small nod, but the rest of his body was too still.
“What do you think of that?” Tor asked.
“What do you think?” Pel countered, too quickly.
Tor had almost died. Twice. And when he’d gone out that window, he’d done it believing that Pel wanted nothing to do with him—and for good reason.
So Tor held nothing back. “I think it’s the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve wanted to get bonded for a while now.” He smiled cautiously at Pel. “It seems like we both did?”
It turned into a question, because while it was factually true—the bond wouldn’t have occurred if they didn’t both want it—Pel had asked to wait.
And Tor did understand that you could want something but think there were compelling reasons why now wasn’t the right time.
That was what the actual words and the final decision-making were for, only they’d blown right past those.
Pel’s gaze slipped away from Tor’s, and then he asked carefully, “Did you know it could happen?”