“You’re leaving?” Aneurin was the one who spoke.
“Yup.” I stepped around Caoilfionn, who tried to prevent me from leaving, but I quickly ducked under his arm.
“Why?” I ignored Aneurin as I started down the stairs I still had to grab my books. He followed me onto the steps. “You’d give up safety because I don’t love you or remember you?”
“I don’t need the so-called protection you’d offer. I escaped the dungeons of Heves on my own; I avenged my capture on my own; I saved you and Islwyn from being sold to a brothel and having your teeth chipped out on my own. I think I can handle the road.” I didn’t look back. That was not my Aneurin. My Aneurin had died in that cave. My feet carried me all the way back down to the workshop.
Yorwrath was sitting up on the cot, staring at the floor like he wanted to get up but didn’t want to face how weak he was. The door creaked a second time when I was halfway to that rough table where the books were. I took off my pack and weighed it down with the heavy tomes. With all four books on my back, the pack weighed almost as much as I did. Still I turned around and started to head out… But I stopped.
Aneurin stared at Yorwrath with his brows knit. It was like he couldn’t comprehend what was before him, but it was more likely that he just didn’t want to. Yorwrath refused to look at him and he kept his gaze fixed on the fire.
“He needs to be watched for the next few days. After a week he can start using a sword again…but he’ll need to go slowly. Good luck.” I stepped passed Aneurin.
“Stop her,” Yorwrath grumbled. “I don’t know what the fuck your little druid ngwas and that unicorn did to you, Aneurin, but if your Dy’ne leaves you’ll regret it.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Aneurin’s broad shoulders shrug. Yorwrath growled at him and slowly pulled himself to standing. I stopped pushing through the door when I heard the scraping sound of Yorwrath’s dragging feet. He half-stumbled when he reached me and used the momentum of his body to slam against the door to shut it. He winced against the wood, and I glanced over his naked body. His legs were shaking; he was still far from his best. But he still had that look in his eye, that look that said he could kill me if he wanted to. I liked that that fire was still there in him. Some men would have crumbled from the weakness but not him. No, he had decided to fight. It didn’t surprise me… In fact, it made me smile. He pressed those strong shoulders of his against the door, his chin tilted up with his normal smug expression in place.
“You’re not leaving, Dy’ne.” The words on his lips seemed so final.
“I’m not above hitting a wounded man.” I sneered at him.
“Oh, I know, Dy’ne.” He raised his chin. “You’re staying. Don’t count me out because I’m a little hurt. What’s that saying? Never fuck with a wounded mountain cat.”
“Don’t try me, Yorwrath.”
“Stay,” Aneurin’s voice rang out clear through the room. I whipped around so hard and fast that my hair slapped Yorwrath in the face.
“What?” I furrowed my brows.
“Stay. I might not remember but…” He sighed. “I see why I loved you. I might grow to again.”
“Might. I don’t have eternity. I age…unlike you.”
“That’s not true.”
“What isn’t true?”
“Talk to Caoilfionn.” I rolled my eyes.
“He shared you with me. That means I also have to give you up now, Dy’ne. And I say no.” Yorwrath crossed his powerful arms.
Oh, that’s cute.
He looked intimidating. If I hadn’t known what he’d been through and hadn’t caught the shaking of his legs I might have been frightened. But I knew, and I could watch those strong, defined calves and thighs trembling even as he leaned against the door. I smirked as I reached out and placed my hand on his hard, well-muscled shoulder. I pushed him over. He scrambled to grab my hand but was too weak and too slow to catch me. I watched with a grin as those molten eyes went wide in shock before he toppled to the ground.
He grunted as he hit the stone floor, and I stepped over him, pulling the door open and stepping out into the hall. Yorwrath cursed in the elven tongue and yelled at Aneurin as I closed the door behind me.
I was about halfway up the stairs when the door opened, and quick, sure footsteps sounded behind me. Sprinting up the stairs was an option, but I knew I wouldn’t get too far with the heavy bag of books. That was why I stopped. Not because I wanted someone to stop me from leaving, but because I knew Aneurin would catch up to me before I left. I traced my thumbs under the fat leather straps as Aneurin stepped in front of me.
“Yorwrath thinks—” he started, with that soft voice that used to bring a smile to my lips.
“I don’t care what Yorwrath thinks. What do you think, Aneurin? You might be a king one day, and that means thinking on your own. So what do you think, as someone who might one day be king?”
“No ‘might about it.’ I will rule.” His eyes narrowed.
Oh, did I offend you?
“What do you think, oh great and mighty Swynwr? Are you here talking to me because you want to be or because Yorwrath begged you in his pathetic state?” I glared at him. He pursed his lips but didn’t answer. “That’s what I thought. Stop following, and lead for fuck’s sake,” I grumbled, slowly shaking my head. “Do you remember anything? Your leg? The vows we spoke to one another? Any of it?”
“The last thing I remember before waking up in the cave is being jumped from behind by the city watch in Nathton.”
“So nothing about me?”
“No.”
“And when you look at me now?”
“What?”
“Do you feel anything when you look at me?” Our eyes met and his brows furrowed. “Good-bye, Aneurin.” I stepped around him, and he stepped in my way again.
“Where will you go?”
“Why do you care?”
“The roads are treacherous for small Dy’ne traveling alone.”
“And?”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Why does it matter?”
“I’ll see you safely there.”
“No.”
“What?”
“You heard me. No. I don’t want you near me. You might not feel anything, but I do, and this fucking hurts. Not seeing love in your eyes when you look at me…” I shook my head. “I’m not doing this.” I took another step, and he walked with me. He followed me out of the temple and down the stairs. Caoilfionn was seated at the bottom with Islwyn. They were talking quietly. It looked like they were waiting for us. Aneurin stopped walking beside me, and I had started down the reclaimed cobblestones before he said anything.
“I don’t want you to go!” he called after me. My attention turned to him, and I watched as he ran down the stairs and to my side. He placed his hands on my shoulders, “Will you give me a week? All I ask is a week and if whatever was there before doesn’t return…you’re free to go.”
“Why the sudden change in heart? Not ten minutes ago I was nothing to you.”
“Watching you walk away…” He shook his head. “I might not remember my feelings for you but watching you go…” He opened his mouth to say more but closed it and pursed his lips. “I can’t explain what I felt exactly, but I know it would be a mistake for me to let you leave.”
“He can get his memory back.” I jumped at Caoilfionn’s voice.
“Gods, make some noise when you walk, or I swear I’ll put a bell around your neck,” I grumbled as I watched the unicorn in his human form step around Aneurin.
“I can?” He turned to look at the unicorn.
“She might not like the terms of the ritual, but…some memories will resurface, maybe not all but some.”
“What terms of the ritual?” I glared at the unicorn, who smirked at me.
“Remember what I told you in the garden?”
“Self-fulfilling prophecies… Nice.” My eyes narrowed at Caoilfionn, and then I turned and started walking back to the tower.
“So you consent to it then?”
“When Yorwrath is better I suppose.”
“Why?” It was Aneurin’s turn to ask.
“Because if I don’t do everything in my power to get back what we had I’ll never forgive myself. Even if it means letting that sheepfucker touch me. I’ll set a cot up in the apothecary.”
* * * *
Retrieving a feather mattress from the room we’d all shared that one night, I headed back down into the little workshop. I dragged another cot against the wall opposite Yorwrath and threw the heavy down mattress on top of it. I set my things on a small shelf and leaned my sword against the wall. There was a moment of sadness as I stared at all my belongings on a small shelf and trailed my fingers over my bodice. I used to wear dresses and tend the sick… For a moment, I missed my old life, but only for a moment.
“You came back,” Yorwrath cried out hoarsely. He had been sleeping when I came in, but now he sat up and stared at me.
“For now. Caoilfionn says he can bring Aneurin’s memory back…or at least some of it.”
“And you trust him?”
“Have you ev—” I caught myself and sat on the cot. Oh, he knew better than I what the pain of losing someone you loved was like.
“Yes, Dy’ne, I can imagine what you feel. Your Aneurin is dead. Even if he gains those memories back…that isn’t your Aneurin. He’s the Swynwr now. He’s the king born amidst royal ash and dust. The one who drew first breath among the dead. He’s not your lover, and he’s not my baby brother anymore. He’s the One King, the All King, and regardless of what he says we’re just some fucking pieces for him to play.”
“And Islwyn?”
“Islwyn doesn’t care about anything as long as he gets his lips around Aneurin’s cock. You might be able to placate him, but I severely doubt you have the stomach for it, Dy’ne.”
“Placate him?”
“He wants to fuck you too. It’s why he’s so insufferable, Dy’ne. Spread your thighs for him, let him fuck that tight little pussy. I’m certain you can use whatever trick you did on my brother and make him yours.” Yorwrath snorted.
“Fuck that,” I scoffed.
“That I think would be the point, Dy’ne.”
* * * *
A week later Yorwrath was healed enough to put his clothes back on and join the others in the room upstairs, while I stayed below in the apothecary. I knew we wouldn’t be there much longer. Caoilfionn came down a few times with fresh herbs, but he never tied them to dry. Another week passed, and I cut myself off entirely from the elves. The most contact I had with them was the occasional piece of game Grwn brought me. Mr. I’m-Your-Servant Unicorn certainly didn’t act like it. They all left me alone, but eventually Yorwrath started sparring with me again.
Two and a half weeks after waking up, he was back to where he had been before, but that gold in his gaze had blossomed. No one commented on it, but when we passed the others going out to the garden, they stared a bit. His eyes were now as remarkable as his brother’s. They were gold at their core—not yellow, not orange, not brown but shimmering metallic gold. And that red-brown had retreated to ring his iris in a color like blood. Between the starburst of gold and the ring of bloodred was a muddied circle of bright crimson.
“How’s Aneurin?” I asked as I raised my sword, waiting for Yorwrath to attack. He was fiercer than ever, and came at me hard and fast.
“He’s the same,” he answered, dodging a swing at his head. “You’re getting pretty good, Dy’ne; you could probably finally almost hit the broad side of a barn.”
“What do you mean by ‘the same’?” I dodged a swing, and he caught me by the bun with his other hand and kicked the sword out of my grip. I cried out and twisted around, gritting my teeth against the pain. I kicked at his sword hand. The damn thing didn’t budge, so I strained against his grip on me, snapping at him like a wild animal as my bun slowly loosened.
“The same, Dy’ne. He doesn’t remember you, or even ask after you,” he growled before he threw me off him. The bun gave way, and my long shadowy tresses spilled over my shoulders and down my back. “You’re a stranger to him now.”
“So why are you here?” I asked as I stood. Yorwrath walked over and picked up my sword.
“Because I’m not interested in magic and hunting is boring, Dy’ne. It’s as simple as that.” He tossed me my sword, and I caught it.
“Sure it’s not because you want to fuck me?” We eyed each other for a moment.
“If I were going to fuck you, Dy’ne, I’d have done it by now,” Yorwrath snarled as he started circling me. I saw the tension in his shoulders and could tell he was ready to attack. And then, as I predicted, he pounced on me like a tiger. I fought him off as best I could. Our steel sang out from the heart of the abandoned forest, over the tree canopy, and into the darkness.
Again he kicked the sword from my hand. The steel clattered to the ground, and I held my hands up to yield. “No yielding.” He threw his sword to the side and tackled me to the stones at the base of the altar. “Fight me off, Dy’ne.” He practically grunted into my mouth as he fought to trap my wrists. I bit him and clawed his cheek, but he eventually caught both of my hands, pinning them above my head. We were panting into each other’s mouths as our chests heaved with frantic breaths. And then he kissed me.
At first I nipped his lips hard, drawing blood, as he came in to steal other kisses. The pain made his growl roll like thunder in his throat. He gave up after a time and stared down at me before pressing his forehead to mine. The fight left my body as we lay there on the ground still and in silence, the only sound the ebb of the fire and the sighs of our panting.
After a few minutes of him lying on top of me holding my hands hostage, I started struggling against him. I twisted my hips and fought to raise my chest to get some sort of leverage to flip him, but he was an expert at holding someone smaller than him captive with his body. I couldn’t free myself from him. Eventually, my wriggling made his grip on my wrists start to slip, and I was able to twist free. I shoved him off me, and he lay on his back staring up at the sky. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. I thought he was healed completely, but the fatigue proved otherwise. I rolled on top of him, straddling his leather-clad hips. We stared at each other. The tension between us was unbearable—we both knew what was coming. It was the last chance to say no before our bodies gave us no choice in the matter. Neither of us moved. We said yes, by not saying anything at all.