Authors: Amy Miles
“I second that,” Aminah mutters from over my shoulder.
“Eamon doesn’t stand a chance against Bastien,” I grunt as Kyan pulls me into his arms.
I bite down on my lip as tears spill from my eyes.
My vision wavers, but I manage to remain conscious.
“Kyan, stop this.
Please!” Aminah pleads, following right behind.
“She’s going to pass out again.”
“No.
I won’t.”
I grit my teeth and force my mind away from the pain.
Kyan walks with as much care as he can manage, but each step is excruciating.
I clamp down on my jaw to keep from shrieking or biting off my tongue.
He carries me around the edge of the armory and back toward the center of camp.
A large bonfire is blazing nearby.
Caldonians hoot and holler at Eamon and Bastien, each circling the other in the center of the cheering crowd.
Toren turns as we approach.
His face is grim, his stance tense.
“I’ve tried everything to stop them, but your men aren’t helping things, Kyan.
They keep egging them on.”
“I will handle my men just as soon as I get Illyria somewhere safe.”
“Put me down,” I command.
Kyan’s head whips down toward me.
“You can’t stand on your own.”
“Watch me.”
The instant I’m forced to stand on my own foot I know I’ve made a grave mistake.
The pain is unbearable as I grip onto Kyan.
He watches me silently, but his eyes speak volumes.
‘I told you so’ rings through loud and clear.
“What if you lose control again?” Toren protests as I hop forward, using Kyan for support.
“There are over a hundred people here, Illyria.
We can’t risk it!”
I glare at Toren.
“I’m not asking permission.
Leave if you want to, take Aminah, but don’t get in my way.
If I don’t stop this fight, one of them will end up dead.”
Toren grinds his teeth and grabs Aminah’s arm, dragging her away.
I don’t know if they actually leave the camp.
A part of me almost hopes that they do.
“Kyan?”
His gaze swivels away from the fight before us.
“I want you to leave, too.”
“You can barely stand on your own.
You need me!”
“No.
I need to get closer.
That is all.”
“But…”
“Do this for me,” I cut off his protest.
“I need to know you are safe.
My friends need you.”
He relents slowly and finally nods as we reach the edge of the crowd.
“I will get you through the crowd.”
The sound of fists hitting flesh and grunts of pain brings a familiar warmth to the palms of my hands.
My anger rises as I catch glimpses of the guys locked in battle, their shirts off, backs rippling with sweat despite the frigid temperatures.
The crowd parts for us.
Some back away, realizing this fight is about to get uglier, but others fill in behind us, eager to see what I will do.
It is no secret around camp that the tension between these two guys revolves around me.
Many are curious about our relationship.
I’m guessing those are the ones who stick around to see what happens.
“Eamon!” I yell.
Eamon and Bastien go still, the whites of their eyes glowing in the firelight.
Bastien staggers forward.
“Illyria, I am so sorry.”
His eye bulge as Eamon grabs his throat.
“How dare you speak to her?
Look at what you did!
Look at her leg!”
He throws Bastien to the ground, rearing back his leg to kick Bastien in the ribs.
Bastien grunts, curling in on himself, but he doesn’t fight against Eamon’s attack.
“Stop!
You’re hurting him!”
I hop forward and nearly black out from the pain.
Kyan and Brym grab hold of me from either side.
I offer a pained smile of thanks.
“That’s the point.”
Eamon’s pointed kick lands on Bastien’s ribs again.
The splintering of bones echoes loudly in my ears.
Bastien’s howl makes me see red.
“Time to go, Kyan.”
He hesitates, but instantly releases me when he sees the swirl of black in my eyes.
“Everyone back!”
Bastien rolls to his feet, his gaze narrowed as his lips peel back over his teeth.
He stalks forward, only showing the slightest hint of pain.
I know this stance and the deadly gleam in his eye.
Eamon is in trouble.
He dips low and flies across the small space, his shoulder ramming low into Eamon’s gut.
Eamon flies backward, his head bouncing off the ground.
Eamon gasps for breath as Bastien leaps on him, slamming his elbow down onto Eamon’s chest.
When he coils for another attack, I throw out my arms.
“Enough!”
Eamon and Bastien fly apart, hovering ten feet above the ground.
Eamon flails about, struggling against my hold, but Bastien falls slack.
“I had no idea it was you,” I hear him murmur.
“I know.”
I wave off his apology.
“It was dark and you were trying to protect the camp.
I don’t blame you.”
Eamon’s nostrils flare with anger.
“Typical!
You’re just going to forgive him like that?
He’s the one who broke your leg, remember?”
I sway dangerously at the intense effort it takes to remain standing.
I grit my teeth against the rising pain.
“Does it look like I’ve forgotten?”
Eamon pales dramatically as he stares at my twisted leg.
Bastien cries out as I collapse.
They drop to the ground, released from my anger.
“This childish fight for dominance is pathetic.
I’m not a plaything you can toss back and forth.” I struggle to pull myself to a sitting position.
Eamon grimaces as he rises to his feet.
When he refuses to look at me, I know the truth.
“You started the fight, didn’t you?”
“Of course. He hurt you!”
“So you thought if you beat on Bastien for a while that’d make it all better?
You know he would never have laid a finger on me if he’d known it was me.”
“So you’re going to forgive him?
Like that?” Eamon snarls, shooting loathing glances at Bastien.
“What do you want me to do, Eamon?
Hate him?
Would that make you happy?” I snap, fighting to remain lucid.
Eamon approaches slowly, dipping low when he reaches my side.
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“But it would make it easier for you, wouldn’t it?”
Eamon reaches for me, pulling me into his arms.
“No.
This is my fault, not yours or his.
You’re right, I lost my cool, but when I saw you lying on the ground I snapped.”
I can easily imagine what Eamon must have thought when he found me unconscious with Bastien kneeling over me.
He’d had no way of knowing what really happened.
I stare up into his anguished eyes and crack a weak smile.
“Only a fool would challenge Bastien to a fight.
As stupid as it was, I guess in some way I should be flattered.”
Eamon laughs weakly.
“Does that mean I’m forgiven?”
I shake my head.
“I wouldn’t go that far.
We still need to deal with…”
“Where did Bastien go?” Eamon searches the empty lot.
“He thought it best to give you two some time alone.”
Kyan explains as he steps out from the shadows.
He shoots me a knowing smile.
“I left, but you should have known I wouldn’t go far.”
For the second time, Bastien has disappeared.
The first time I was distraught to the point of nearly killing my friends.
This time I feel numb.
“Will he come back?”
“Yes.
He just needs time to deal with his guilt.”
I slump against Eamon and rest my head against his chest, soothed by the steady beat of his heart.
He presses his lips to the top of my head.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers against my hair.
The part of my heart that belongs to Bastien feels cold and lifeless, but Eamon has laid claim to a part tooan equal half, overflowing with compassion and steady, unconditional love.
Maybe it is possible to love two men at the same time.
“Come on, let’s get you into bed.
I’m sure you’re ready for Kyan to heal up that leg of yours.”
“You think?”
Eamon lifts me gently into his arms and carries me into our deserted cabin.
I don’t know where Zahra got off to during the fight, but I suspect Toren and Aminah will return soon once they realize I didn’t tear apart the entire camp.
Eamon helps me strip out of my torn clothes, his eyes averted like a gentleman as I slip into a clean top.
There’s nothing that can be done about my pants for now and I can’t bother to care.
I close my eyes as Kyan’s hands close around my shattered leg.
His mouth falls slack as a golden light begins to glow around my knee.
I can feel the bone fragments drawing back into their original place.
I release a sigh of relief as the pain fades and healing warmth floods the rest of my body, mending my bruises and cuts.
“Thank you,” I whisper as Kyan stands and heads toward the door.
“She should sleep well tonight,” he says to Eamon before he leaves.
Eamon crosses the room and dips low to tuck me in.
He presses his lips to my forehead and turns to leave.
“Will you…will you stay with me?”
Eamon’s eyebrow arches.
“You sure?”
“I just…I want to be held.”
“Sure.”
He disappears behind the screen and hurries through a quick wash.
When he reappears, his hair is wet but clean of dirt and blood.
He grabs a spare blanket and pillow from his bed and lies down beside me.
The bed is small, much too narrow for both of us to share but he doesn’t seem to mind.
He wraps his arm around me and rests his head atop mine.
I begin to feel the pull of exhaustion as I snuggle into his embrace.
It has been too long since we slept like thisno pretenses, no expectations, just drawing comfort from each other.
I miss this.
My thoughts flit away as I teeter on the brink of sleep.
I resurface only for a second when I hear Eamon speak one last time, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Thank you for choosing me.”
Twenty-Nine
Sunlight warms my face through the window overhead.
I raise my arms and stretch, blowing out a contented sigh.
I feel warm and safe.
A soft snore by my ear startles me and I glance over, shocked to find Eamon sleeping peacefully beside me.
Loose curls tumble over his forehead, glowing bright gold in the morning light.
I watch, hypnotized by the rise and fall of his chest.
How did I miss his transformation from a boy into the stunning man lying next to me?
A faint blush rises on my cheeks as I realize how attractive he really is.
“Like what you see?”
“Oh!” I smack Eamon on the arm as a grin stretches across his face.
“You were faking!”
Rising up on his elbows, he smirks.
“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever fallen for that.
Must have had a lot on your mind.”
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me back down.
My hair fans the pillow as he hovers over me, his gaze searching mine.
“Are you mad?”
“Surprisingly no.”
“Really?”
I laugh at his obvious shock.
“Really.
This is nice.”
He smiles and tugs me closer.
As I rest my head against his chest, I feel him breathe out a sigh of relief.
“I like the sound of that.”
I listen to the noises that come and go outside the cabin door, the usual morning hustle and bustle.
The frigid cold must have broken for so many people to be out and about.
“They let us sleep late.”
He nods.
“Kyan probably told everyone to give us some time alone.”
“How long have you been up?”
I crane my head back to look through the clear plastic covering the window.
It’s hard to tell where the sun is located.
All I can tell is that it is probably overhead.
“Several hours,” he admits sheepishly.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
I look up at him to see a blush seeping into his cheeks.
His smile falters and he closes his eyes.
“Honestly?
I didn’t want this to end.
I was afraid when you woke you would leave.”
I’m not sure what to say.
Being this close to Eamon feels good, but I fear it will end badly.
I have perfected the knack of keeping him at arm’s length, protecting my heart, but the harder I try to preserve my love for Bastien the deeper I wound Eamon.
“I do like this,” I admit truthfully.
I trace a finger over Eamon’s chest, marveling at the difference a few months has made.
Eamon’s skin quivers under my touch and I hesitate.
His hands tighten around my waist and I feel his struggle for restraint.
“Maybe…” he pauses to clear his throat.
“Maybe we could try this again sometime.”
I sigh and lift up on my elbow to meet him eye-to-eye.
“I don’t know if that is such a good idea.”
Eamon groans and falls back onto the cot, his arm thrown across his eyes.
“You are driving me crazy!
I’ve tried really hard to be patient, but this isn’t working.
You need to decide if you’re going to be with me or not.
I can’t take this hot and cold thing anymore.”
I look away, ashamed.
He is right.
None of this has been fair on him and he has been exceedingly patient with me.
“I want to be with you,” I whisper.
“Really?
‘Cause you’ve got a real funny way of showing it!”
I blink back the tears that threaten to fall.
“I don’t know what you expect from me, Eamon.
I’m trying.”
“What I expect?” He repeats, his brow furrowing as his arm falls away.
“I don’t
expect
anything.”
I shake my head, exasperated.
“Of course you do.
You’re a guy!”
“Hey now,” Eamon protests, pushing up into a seated position.
The blanket falls away to reveal his bare chest and I find myself struggling to look away.
“This is me we’re talking about.
I’ve never tried to come on to you or push you for anything and you know that.”
I sit up and cradle my knees to my chest as he gently cups my face with work-hardened hands.
“I have loved you since we were children.
There was never anyone else and there never will be.
You are the only one who can infuriate me and make me ache to kiss you in the same breath.”
“It’s not that I’m not attracted to you…it’s not even that I don’t love you…” I trail off as my gaze drops to his chest.
I reach out and gently run a finger down the curve of his bicep, wrapping my fingers around his forearm.
He flexes unconsciously at my touch.
Eamon seems pleased with my closer inspection.
“You look at me like this is the first time you’ve seen me.”
I nod absently, tracing the corded muscles down to his hand.
He twines his fingers with mine.
“I think it is.”
He stares at me with such open yearning that I have to suck in a breath to remember to breathe.
“I’m a wreck right now, Eamon.
No matter what I do, I keep hurting you and that’s the last thing that I want.
You deserve better than this, better than me.”
“Shh,” he whispers, pulling me closer.
“You’ve been through a lot.
I know that and I don’t blame you.
I just need to know if there is a chance we can be together.
If you say no, then I will walk away and let you be, but if there is a chance, even the slightest hint of a desire to be with me, then tell me.”
“I…” I pause, swallowing hard.
“I don’t know how to talk to you anymore.
It feels like there is a wedge between us that I can’t get past.”
Neither of us verbally acknowledges who that wedge is, but I know we are both thinking it.
“I’m still your best friend,” he whispers, reaching up to brush my hair out of my eyes.
“No matter what happens, that will never change.”
“A part of me wants to be with you…”
“And the other part wants Bastien,” he finishes.
I bury my head in my knees, ashamed and broken.
After all this time, my pain is just as raw as the day Bastien first walked away from me.
He remains in my thoughts, in my heart.
Eamon’s touch is light as he lifts my head and leans in close.
“I know you love him, Illyria.
I’ve always known.”
“But I love you too,” I whisper, shifting toward him.
I unfold my legs and press against his side, my shoulder against his chest, our lips mere inches apart.
Eamon leans in, his lips brushing past mine to my ear.
“I need you to be with me, completely.
I can’t keep wondering if you’re thinking of him when you’re with me.”
His breath washes over my neck and I close my eyes, forcing Bastien from my mind.
Eamon deserves that much.
“Please choose me,” he whispers.
Memories of all the years we’ve spent together filter through my mindthe laughter, pranks and challenges during training.
Every memory I have of Eamon, before Bastien arrived, is filled with happiness.
I need to see past my longing for Bastien to remember who Eamon has always been to me.
I search deep within myself for a shred of the girl I was when Eamon fell in love so long ago.
So much has changed.
I have changed.
“Why do you love me?” I ask, pulling back to see his response.
“Because you are beautiful in every sense of the word.
I love the way your hair drapes down your back, shimmering in the sunlight.”
He runs his fingers through my hair, releasing it just over my shoulder.
“I love your smile, how soft your cheeks are against my chest, how they flush when you are embarrassed.”
He grins, stroking my cheek as it flames on cue.
“I love how graceful you are, yet strong and confident.
I love watching you hunt, the way you move and sort through problems.
I love that you’re not afraid to face challenges.”
“But you always scolded me for those things,” I protest.
“Of course,” he smiles, lowering his hands to hold with mine.
“I was worried I would lose you.”
“And now?
What about the Shadow?
I know you’re afraid of it.”
He cups my hands in his and draws them up to his lips.
“I know you won’t let it take over.”
“How do you know that?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.
“Because evil and love can’t mix.”
Maybe he is right.
Maybe that is why Bastien can talk me down, because love is the only thing keeping the Shadow at bay.
“What if you get hurt again?” I ask, averting my gaze.
I don’t want him to see how terrifyingly real my fear is of that happening.
Eamon places his finger over my lips to silence me.
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take if it means I get to be with you.”
“I don’t think I could bear to harm you again.”
“Then don’t,” he murmurs, inching forward.
He pauses, inches from me, waiting for me to make the first move.
I hesitate, wishing that this could be simple, that I wouldn’t feel guilt over kissing him.
This is what Kyan says I must do…but I don’t know if I can.
Eamon’s shoulders droop as he begins to pull away.
“I’m sorry.
I know you need space.”
Reaching out my hand, I wrap it around the back of his neck and lightly brush my lips against his.
“I choose you.”
I know there is no going back now and that scares me more than I hope Eamon can tell.
He holds still, giving me complete control as I slowly trace my lips along his jawline and back toward his ear.
“Illyria,” he gasps, his hands tightening on my arms.
His breathing becomes haggard as I kiss the corner of his mouth.
I wrap my hands around his neck as I shift, trying to maneuver around the tangled covers to get closer to him.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he gasps.
“Is that such a bad thing?”
Eamon groans.
“If you don’t want this to happen, then pull back now before I lose control.”
I lean in and press my lips firmly against his, squirming as his hands splay across my back, molding me to his chest.
Eamon plunges his hands into my hair, tugging loose the tangled curls so that they fall in waves over my back.
I dance my fingernails across his neck, sinking deeper into the kiss.
The door behind us creaks open and I flail backward, landing painfully on the wooden floor.
Pain shoots up from my tailbone as I look up, ready to bark out my annoyance at the intruder, but I stop short.
Bastien stands in the doorway, his hands violently shaking as he tries to cover a gaping wound in his stomach.
His gray shirt is dripping with blood.