The Last Canticle: Summoner's Dirge (23 page)

Balin’s head snapped up.

Damir glanced from the guards to Emperor Folken. Without a second thought, he flung his hood down and took a step forward.

“Wait!” Damir cried. He stood protectively in front of Balin.

“Damir,” Balin whispered harshly, “step aside.”

“No, I can’t allow this,” Damir snapped at him. He turned his attention to Emperor Folken. “It’s my fault. Balin was on his way to the city, but his airship crashed, and I kept him away on my farm. He didn’t betray his country.”

“What excuses he has do not matter; what has been done is done. Guards,” Emperor Folken said with a nod toward Balin.

Damir gnashed his teeth. No. No! He would not lose another. Not Balin. No one else.

“I said no!” Damir yelled before he could stop himself. A light flashed around him and rippled in the room.

Balin grabbed his arm and tried to haul him back. Emperor Folken watched with inquisitive eyes, a wonder and knowledge behind them that reminded Damir of General Gaius.

“What are you doing? Stop,” Balin hissed into Damir’s ear.

“I will not let them take you,” Damir said.

Emperor Folken took a step closer. The guards hovered in the distance, only held at bay by Emperor Folken’s hand. He tilted his head to the side. “You glow.”

Damir swallowed thickly and nodded. With shaky hands, he removed his cloak and let it tumble to the floor. He could feel the power beneath the surface, a jittery energy that galloped over his skin. The blue lines slithered back and forth, visible beneath his cotton shirt. Damir unbuttoned his shirt and let it slide to the floor as well, his light growing brighter.

Emperor Folken raked his eyes over Damir’s bare chest. Damir’s heart pounded against his rib cage, a rabbit’s heart. Emperor Folken reached out but stopped himself. The light glowed steadily brighter.

“I know that light. You are…” Emperor Folken let the words die out. His eyes jerked from Damir to Balin. Sharply he barked to the room, “Everyone out.”

The guards hesitated, but with one final glare they retired from the room, leaving Emperor Folken alone with Damir and Balin. Damir straightened his shoulders. “You know what I am. You know what I am capable of.”

Even if Damir didn’t know himself.

“Blessed sun, an Anima Stella? Then it’s true. It has begun,” Emperor Folken murmured to himself.

His brows grew high and tight on his forehead like acrobatic caterpillars. Damir’s back stiffened as he stood beneath Emperor Folken’s penetrating stare. He felt like a sacrificial lamb.

Emperor Folken snapped his gaze away and closed his eyes briefly. He returned to his throne and sat slowly, every movement strung tight. He looked at Balin and Damir with disdain.

“Why have you brought this to me? If you had done your job, Brother, then none of this would have happened. You choose now to grow a conscience, after years of scraping your belly against the grime of the underworld?”

Damir looked at Balin, who nodded. Tentatively, Damir took a step forward. With the impending threat gone, the corona of light that encompassed Damir had faded, his lines growing still.

“General Gaius, commander of the Imperial Army of Pheor, has done me a great injustice. I seek…I seek…” He sought what? Revenge would never bring Elina back. She was with the winds now. Damir fumbled to find the right words, to explain what he wanted.

Emperor Folken watched him silently. Beneath his contemplative gaze, Damir felt like a mouse being judged by a lion. Emperor Folken held a hand up to silence Damir, who snapped his mouth shut instantly.

“You have traveled far. Tomorrow we will discuss what has brought you here, and what it is I can do for you. For now, I will have someone show you to your rooms.”

“Then Balin will not be…?” Damir held his breath.

Emperor Folken shook his head. “Not today. I cannot promise tomorrow.”

Chapter Eighteen

A Path Revealed

Damir took a seat on the bed, more exhausted than he’d realized. He stared blankly out the glass doors that opened onto a veranda. It was late in the afternoon, and the desert sun was preparing to set the world on fire. The bedroom was more extravagant than anything he had ever owned, than anyplace he had ever stayed. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but think how Elina would have loved it all—the adventure, the excitement, to be so close to royalty.

He dropped his listless gaze to his hands. He had come close to losing Balin just as he had lost Elina. If he hadn’t stepped forward, would Balin now be crouched before a guillotine?

Damir covered his face with his hands. Even with his emotions in a torrent, his heart weathered, he didn’t want to lose Balin. Was it selfish? To keep Balin at such a distance but refuse to let him go?

A knock at the door jostled him from his thoughts. His first instinct was to brace himself, but he relaxed his muscles when Balin called from the other side of the door.

“Damir, may I come in?”

Damir opened his mouth, about to say no. Space was the best thing for them. He needed to sort his thoughts out, to figure out what it was he was doing.

“Yes,” he called instead, shocking himself.

Balin opened the door and stepped inside. He shut it behind him but made no move to close the distance between them. Damir watched him from where he sat on the bed. The pregnant silence was filled with far too many unspoken words.

“I just wanted to check on you, see if you were all right.”

Damir nodded silently and picked at his sleeve. Balin shifted his feet. It shouldn’t have been so difficult. Damir knew Balin cared. He could see it in his eyes, a light that slumbered beneath the waves. He was the one who had put the blockade up between them.

Damir knew he needed to break down the wall that had built up. He was afraid that the longer he remained silent, the higher the wall would grow. Soon there’d be an entire mountain between them.

“Okay,” Balin said. Damir tried to find the words inside him, but they were caught in his throat. Balin’s shoulders slumped in defeat as he turned and reached for the doorknob.

“Wait,” Damir finally called out. Balin glanced over his shoulder. Damir chewed on his lower lip and twisted his hands together. When he didn’t say anything else, Balin turned around and raised an eyebrow.

Damir lowered his gaze. “I miss you.”

He did. He missed Balin as much as he missed Elina. It felt like he was going to lose Balin at any moment, and he knew he had no one to blame but himself. He curled his hands around the edge of the mattress.

Why did it have to hurt? He wanted to close out the pain, extinguish the aching that burned through him like a wildfire.

“I’ve been right here,” Balin said.

“But you aren’t,” Damir insisted. He glanced up to meet Balin’s stare. “I’m not.”

Balin took a step forward. Damir jerked away like he’d been struck and released the mattress. Shakily he said, “I miss you, and I wish I could get past this, but every time I see you, I see her. I see the untold truths. I get it; I get why you kept it all to yourself. Maybe I’m to blame. Maybe I should have pushed harder to find out the truth.”

“No, Damir.”

Damir shook his head and rose to his feet. “Everything is different. We’re different. We can’t change what happened, and I don’t know if I can get past it.”

“WHAT IS IT you want from me?” Balin spread his arms wide. “I’ve told you everything. There are no more secrets.” Balin could feel his frustration rising. It was unwarranted, he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. The last time he had fought for something so hard had been to avenge Rhianna’s death. That had left him hollow. Would Damir finally leave him a broken shell?

Damir stood and moved to the set of doors leading to the veranda. He opened them, and a breeze wafted in that smelled of cinnamon and chilies.

“I never saw the world beyond my farm. I always dreamed of what it would be like, but I could never bring myself to leave. Then you appeared, and everything changed.” Damir gripped the doors, his back to Balin.

“Do you regret it? Regret us?” It was the one thing Balin had been terrified to ask. As soon as he voiced it, he wished he hadn’t. He didn’t want to hear the truth.

Silence enveloped them, a blizzard that cut through the heat and froze Balin.

Say it. Just say it
. Then what? He’d walk away? No. Even if Damir cast him out, he wouldn’t be able to walk away. As long as Damir needed him, Balin would stand beside him. The steel heart he had spent years building had been destroyed by a single look from an angel.

“Never. I could never regret it,” Damir choked out. He turned around, his eyes moist. Sun reflected off his golden hair, set it ablaze like the wheat fields of home.

Balin crossed the room. Damir didn’t fight as Balin pulled him close and sealed their mouths in a long-awaited kiss. Damir tasted like memories. He was every happy day that existed in Balin’s life. Damir fell against Balin’s body.

Balin’s hold tightened. His desire was hotter than the summers of Eyrie. He remembered the first time they’d kissed, the exhilarating rush. It was better than any high he’d ever experienced.

Damir parted his mouth, drew in a shuddered breath as they separated. Only a moment, though. Balin couldn’t stand to be apart any longer. He took a breath, then closed the distance again, tasted Damir with his tongue and his lips. Damir grabbed on to his shoulders and tangled fingers in his hair.

Damir made a weak sound in the back of his throat. The repressed desire, the days of need and frustration that had pent up inside Balin, came undone. His cock filled and pressed against his pants. Damir moved away and took Balin’s hand, drawing him toward the bed.

For the night, they’d rediscover one another. Come morning, they’d return to reality.

Balin let Damir go. He watched with hungry eyes as Damir tugged his shirt over his head. A slow passion built inside him. No matter how familiar Balin was with Damir’s body, it never failed to thrill him. Hastily he shed his own shirt and toed off his worn leather boots.

Beautiful
. Balin would never stop thinking it. He sat down on the bed, his cock begging for the adoration it hadn’t received in a while. He was torn with the desire to plow Damir until he screamed in rapture or slowly build their lovemaking until it was a rabid passion.

Damir threw him a sultry look that made Balin’s blood sizzle. He barely managed to restrain a groan. Damir slipped out of his boots with a coy smile and undid the ties of his pants. With each passing second, Balin’s need swelled.

They stripped down until they were both naked. Balin guided Damir onto his lap, their hard dicks rubbing against each other. Damir brushed his fingers down Balin’s cheekbone. Balin turned his head and pressed his lips against Damir’s fingertips. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. His heart felt light, free from persecution when he was around Damir.

Balin dipped his head and sealed his lips around the fluttering pulse on the side of Damir’s neck. The cold whisper of Damir’s necklace rubbed against Balin’s skin, a reminder of all that had been lost and all that they could lose. Balin gingerly picked the pendant up, twisting the jade between his fingers.

Damir wrapped a hand around Balin’s wrist. His eyes were wide with a need that Balin knew transcended carnal desire. It was the human need for comfort, the childish desperation of sweet tomorrows and happily ever afters.

Balin sighed and leaned forward. His lips grazed Damir’s jaw as he whispered, “Damir…”

It was hard to think that the man on his lap was a dragon. Balin could still see visions of the great beast erupting from the clouds. He ran his hands down Damir’s side and wrapped his fingers around his hips.

A soft sigh escaped Damir, and his eyes fluttered closed. His cheeks were flushed. “I want to feel you, all of you.”

BALIN SMILED AND squeezed his hands, pulling Damir closer until their chests were flush together. “I can do that.”

Damir opened his eyes and leaned into Balin’s hands. Balin pressed a kiss against the starburst around his heart. His tongue slid against Damir’s nipple, and he closed his teeth around the stiff nub and pulled until Damir arched his back with a breathy sigh. Too long had they been separated. His body was charged, waiting to explode.

Each touch made Balin’s cock twitch. Pearly precum dewed at the tip. Damir tried to rut against him, but Balin stopped Damir with a tight squeeze of his hands.

Damir groaned with frustration. “Why are you torturing me?”

“You know not of what torture is,” Balin teased with a grin. “I will show you what it means to be tortured. You will be screaming for me to take you.”

“Have I already not been tortured enough?” Damir asked breathlessly. He tried to maneuver so he could wiggle his hips, but Balin would not be manipulated. He pinched Damir’s side, earning a shocked grunt.

“Not if you can make coherent sentences,” Balin said and moved to suckle Damir’s other nipple. Damir gave an appreciative murmur and cupped Balin’s head.

This was not about how fast they could come or how hard they could drive their bodies together. It was about mending what had been torn. Together they would thread back the rift that divided them.

Balin reached between their bodies and swiped his thumb over Damir’s leaking cock. Damir’s hips undulated as Balin rubbed precum along their shafts.

Damir dropped his hands to Balin’s shoulders and gripped tightly, digging his nails in. Balin moaned low against Damir’s chest and wrapped his large hand around both of their throbbing lengths.

“Oh,” Damir gasped. He grabbed a fistful of Balin’s hair and wrenched his head back, crushing their mouths together.

Happiness.

This was happiness.

Balin didn’t move at first. His heart rate spiked. He kept his hand still, waited until Damir pleaded against his lips.

“Please, oh please.”

One day they would return. One day they would find that bliss again. They were taking a step toward it.

Balin began to move his hand. Precum lubricated their cocks. Damir moaned and reached up to hug Balin around his neck. Tension coiled through Balin. All the frustration and anger and pain were lost in a tide of ecstasy.