Divided (42 page)

Kilik chewed on his lip for a moment, and Calis tilted his
head at the strange sense of desire that shot through him at the sight.  How
was it that everything Kilik did was so bloody appealing?  Every one of Calis’s
senses wanted Kilik—and he felt no reprieve from them in Kilik’s absence.  “You
are sure we will not get lost?”

Calis chuckled, though the idea of being lost with Kilik was
not entirely unattractive.  He shook his head, though.  “I have been here
plenty of times, and I know we will not get lost.”  Still, though, his mind
whispered quietly, the idea of not returning to the walls—of living outside of
them with Kilik—called to him like a sort of siren. 

They started across the grassy plain, with Calis leading the
way, and Kilik walking not far behind him.  Only when they put a safe distance
between themselves and the wall, did Kilik ask the question that he’d obviously
wanted to earlier.  “Why does your father push for war with Cathalar, then?  If
your security is poor and you have so few allies?”

Calis was very aware of the way Kilik kept himself from the
collective that was Telandus, and he found himself immensely intrigued by it. 
“My father is a fool.  He has deluded himself.  Even with Dokak’s help, we
would be overrun.  Most in Telandus know this, just as most in Cathalar do—I
assume.”

Kilik looked pained for the smallest of moments, and then he
shook his head.  “But why?” he exclaimed.  “There will be so much death!  There
isn’t any reason for it!”  He sounded fervent, and his body had that tremor
again when Calis looked back.  “Can’t you speak to him?  Can’t you tell him it
isn’t a good idea?”

Calis lowered his head.  He had thought of talking to Lavus
many times, before he realized that if he so much as whispered a word of
disagreement that his father heard—he would be severely punished.  If he’d tried
to take a political stance, Lavus would have put him to death.  “I… I am not
good at speaking to my father.  He does not accept counsel well, especially
from his sons.”

Kilik’s brow furrowed, and Calis thought there was even more
of a hue to his blue eyes.  “You—you are not allowed to speak your opinion?”

“No,” Calis answered, “quite truthfully, my father would
have me killed.”

The strangled noise that escaped Kilik’s throat was mildly
alarming, and Calis stopped and stared at him worriedly for a few moments. 
“Your own father would execute you?” Kilik sounded as though he might collapse.

“You are very naïve, my friend, to not understand the magnitude
of Lavus’s wrath.  Perhaps I could convince you to stop your masquerade if you
were to fully understand what he would do if he found you out.”

There was a spasm throughout the small body, and Calis
wished he hadn’t spoken at all.  They were moving again, but Kilik walked in
silence for a few moments.  “I-I think Lavus knows very little of what I do,”
he answered wearily. “Tareth keeps it from him, or most of it, but I know if he
knew the extent—Lavus might tear through every home in Dark District until he
found me.  But, if that happened, I assure you I would turn myself in before
anyone was hurt—or even affected.”  Kilik’s eyes closed.  “I don’t know what
I’d do about Juliet and her family.  They would know that I lived with them.  I
don’t… I’ve thought about leaving recently.  If anything happened to them, it
would be my fault.”

Calis felt fury balling in his chest, and he worked to make
sure that it did not explode.  Kilik didn’t seem to understand the point of
Calis’s statement, in fact, he was always finding ways to ignore his own
mortality.  “Leaving the family?  I know you have saved all of their lives on
more than one occasion.  All you fear if Lavus discovered you is what would
happen to that family?  What of you?  You would be… you would be…”

The expression on Kilik’s face changed only slightly, as he
seemed to realize that he and Calis were not worrying about the same things. 
In fact, Kilik looked a little like he wanted to comfort Calis, then.  “My life
is my own.  I do this, and therefore I know that the consequences would be my
torture and eventual hanging… but Alyx, Juliet, and Aitken have done nothing. 
They should not be punished for my choices.”

The rest of the statement had been lost on Calis after Kilik
had said the word torture.  The idea was so repulsive to him, that anyone would
hate Kilik, who was obviously only trying to help, enough to torture him—to
hang him—was disgusting.  No, Calis would not let that happen—ever.  “You speak
about that as though you’ve earned it,” Calis barked.

“About what?” Kilik asked, and his eyes flickered with
genuine confusion.

“Hanging,” Calis spat, “torture.”

This seemed to bring a whole new set of pain into those blue
eyes.  Oh, what Calis wouldn’t have given to remove it from there—permanently. 
What was Kilik so afraid of?  “I told you we both have our secrets,” Kilik
answered solemnly. 

No—Calis could not believe that anything the young man
before him had ever done would merit torture or hanging.  Especially after the
amount of lives he’d saved, the amount of risk he’d put himself in to help ungrateful
rats.  Kilik could have done nothing to deserve death—or even pain.  “Oh?  Do
we?” Calis growled.  “You have killed someone, then?  Tortured them?  Hurt them
in any way?”

The blue eyes flickered with hesitation, and he glanced in
front of him, pretending to focus on their route through the ever taller
grass.  “I, well no.  Just because I have never killed someone doesn’t mean I
haven’t done something wrong.  I’m sure I have hurt someone along the
way—nobles, for that matter,” he said cheerfully.

“After they’d earned it,” Calis answered sharply. 

Kilik sighed.  “You don’t understand, Calis.  I wish…” 
There was the strangest longing in his voice, on his face, then.  “I wish I
could make you understand.  But I can’t… if you knew… if… you would want me
hanged just as quickly as your father.”  Calis flinched, as though Kilik had
struck him.  Calis felt like Kilik
had
struck him.  There was terror in
those blue eyes, and Calis knew that Kilik believed, without doubt, that he was
speaking the truth.  “But… you shouldn’t be with me.”

“You’re wrong,” Calis answered, returning the confidence
with which Kilik had spoken tenfold.  There was a black anger on his face, at
whoever had convinced Kilik that whatever he’d done would ever make Calis want
to harm him.  “I don’t care what you’ve done, or who you are, Kilik.  I would
never see you as anything other than how I do now.”

That was true, irrefutably so, and Calis had no problem
saying so.  Perhaps Kilik had performed some terrible deed, and others may
think he deserved punishment for it—but Calis knew that he didn’t, even now,
knowing nothing.  Kilik seemed a little taken back by the declaration.  “Let’s
just… walk,” Kilik said carefully. 

Not wanting to harp on the issue, as it was clearly one that
Kilik was not able to convey properly at this juncture, and one that was going
to cause the young vigilante considerable heartache, Calis walked.  Desire
prickled up his spine, and suddenly, he found himself wondering as to why he
was bothering to fight with it.

All at once, he stopped, seized Kilik by the waste and
brought their lips together in a kiss far less chaste than the last.  In fact,
Kilik’s back arched against his fingers so that Calis found himself leaning
over the young man to kiss him.  That familiar want for more caught hold of his
mind, and he renewed his kiss.  Instead of using both hands to hold Kilik’s
back, Calis brought the other up to the short, black hair, cradling his head. 

Calis’s mouth pulled against the softness of Kilik’s lips,
biting just enough on Kilik’s lower lip to produce a whimper from the smaller
male that made its way down Calis’s throat.  Calis stopped biting, then, and
just pressed his lips again to Kilik’s—the heat of their breath intermingling
wrapping around both of them.  Finally, Kilik wrapped his arms around Calis’s
neck, kissing back with unprecedented fervor.  He pushed enough so that they
both stood upright, and Calis staggered back, moving his fingers through the
black hair until they touched Kilik’s face.

Their lips fought one another, between breath that Calis
couldn’t tell was his or Kilik’s, and finally their tongues pressed into one
another.  The feel of Kilik’s mouth, of his skin against Calis’s fingers, of
the strength of his tongue wrestling Calis’s—nearly overwhelmed Calis so
completely that he tackled the young commoner to the ground.

Kilik’s fingers slid down his back with just the right
amount of pressure so that Calis could feel his arousal pulsing to an entirely
new level.  After a considerable amount of fighting with his own desperate
desire, he pulled back, holding Kilik’s flushed face in his hands as he stared
into his eyes.  And staring into those blue eyes did nothing to quell his
arousal.  They were both panting, and Kilik looked mildly ashamed of himself.

“Not here,” Calis breathed, using every ounce of willpower
he had to keep their faces the few hairs apart that they were.  Kilik’s breath
on his lips sent a tingling sensation through Calis’s body so that it
shivered.  So, in order to keep control, Calis eased Kilik away from him and
took a few steps back.  His body quivered with need, and his skin prickled in
all the right places.  “Kilik!  By the Light, you are…
impossible
to
resist.”

Kilik was panting, and his cheeks flushed at the word
resist.  Calis smiled at him, though he worked to not focus on the way Kilik’s
skin brightened at the embarrassment.  Why was everything about this bloody
person so necessary to Calis?  He was desirable.  Every little part of him was
desirable all on its own.  Lips, breath, eyes, cheeks—
enough
!  Calis
tried to focus on where he wanted to show Kilik, for if they had gone much
further here, they never would have gotten there. 

“Apologies,” Kilik whispered.

“For being irresistible?” Calis asked. 

Though Calis wasn’t looking at the small male, he was sure
that if he was—he would have seen the red intensify.  “I lost control of
myself,” Kilik said contritely, “that’s never happened before.  I shouldn’t
have…”

“I know the feeling,” Calis chirped.  “I’m glad you did.  I
worried you might simply be humoring me in my feelings, simply because you
don’t want to say no.  I am, after all, important.  Most would never turn me
down, even if they didn’t like me at all.  Now I know that you find me
attractive, if nothing else.”

Kilik offered a wry grin, and the dimples on his face sent a
swell of nausea—caused by that same burning desire—to move through Calis.  How
was he supposed to keep up this resistance?  They still had quite the walk! 
“You know nothing of your attractiveness, your highness.  All you know is that
you kiss quite nicely.”

Calis feigned mental injury, and then pursed his lips a
little as he took Kilik in.  That grin was positively flawless.  “You don’t
find me attractive, Kilik?”  A smile wedged its way onto his own lips,
partially because he was amused, and partially because the grin on Kilik’s lips
was infectious.

“I will have to get back to you on that,” Kilik said coyly. 
With that, they both started off in the direction Calis had originally set for
them.  Though, the need to pounce on Kilik and tear that white shirt from his
body was ever present.

As they drew nearer to the trees, Kilik seemed to be
observing them closely.  His body seemed a little tense, despite his attempts
to have conversation.  They spoke about nothing, and yet Calis had never been
more enthralled in a conversation. “Juliet has never really felt like a
mother.  She worries like one, but I don’t want to get close enough to her—I
don’t want her to feel like that is her responsibility.”

“Only you would think like that,” Calis said.  “I see the
way she looks at you—she already feels that way about you.  She would be
heartbroken if anything happened to you.  You have done a lot for them.”

“Not as much as they have done for me,” Kilik contested. 
Calis was fairly certain that estimate was biased and would be contradicted by
any of the other people who lived in the household with him.

Calis took a breath, and even after the little conversation,
felt desire creeping up into his body—still thinking about ripping off Kilik’s
clothing.  “You are very odd, Kilik.  You do very much for people, and yet… you
are at a disconnect.  You don’t seem to understand the very important concept
of self-preservation.”

“I do,” Kilik said weakly.

“You don’t,” Calis countered, “and I wish you did.”

Not liking where the conversation was headed apparently,
Kilik changed the course, without bothering to explain why.  “Did you really
worry about it?” he asked quietly, “did you really worry that I was only
spending time with you because I thought I had to?”

“I did,” Calis answered easily, “I worry about everything
when it comes to you, it seems.”

Kilik almost smiled, and then he looked away.  “Why?”

“Not such an absurd worry, is it?” Calis asked thoughtfully. 
“I am, after all, the prince.  The crown prince, no less.  Is it really so
ridiculous to think that someone might pretend to like my company?”

Kilik laughed outright, and then he shook his head.  “Yes,
it is.  Firstly, and more generally, you are… tall, blond, and all women squeal
and fall over themselves when you are in the room, or even mentioned.  And
don’t even act like you aren’t aware of how charming you are,” he said dryly. 
“Secondly, and more specifically to me, why would I feel the need to do that? 
I am not… I cannot actually obtain your wealth or position.”

Calis stared at Kilik quietly.  His blue-green eyes
shimmered with yearning, to have and to understand.  Kilik seemed sad in that
moment, and Calis wanted to make him happy.  “There is no one in the world that
everyone finds attractive,” he answered softly.  “Though, I admit I’m having
trouble seeing how anyone could think you weren’t—but lots of people don’t want
charisma.  Charisma was something ground into me from the time I was a child,
and I know a few commoners would find it repellant.  As for you, I wasn’t
worried that you wanted to obtain my position—I was worried that you wouldn’t
reject me because you didn’t want to be rude, not on any worry of
punishment—but because you simply don’t like making others unhappy.”