5. Ayden

Chapter 5

Ayden

W alking down the Keeper’s mountainside Path was surreal. With each stride Declan took, the stones of the Path on which he stepped glowed with cerulean light, then faded to darkness as he moved forward. When we reached the outskirts of the village, children flowed out like the sea’s waves rushing toward the shore. Their cries and squeals were almost as loud as crashing waves, too.

The first boy to wrap his spindly arms around Declan begged him to make his tunic flare. Then the second added her voice. Then a third. We laughed and flared our way for hundreds of paces before reaching the town proper.

Adults soon followed, then Larinda, the Mother of the island. Her weathered face beamed as she gripped Declan’s face in her palms. He sank into her as one might curl beneath a favorite blanket.

The old woman surprised us both by turning toward me. “And you must be Ayden.” She winked at Declan, adding, “You’ve done a’right fer yerself, boy. This one’s tasty.”

I turned eight shades of red.

Larinda cackled.

Declan doubled over.

It appeared as though the entire world marked his passing, welcomed him into their arms, and lifted him on their shoulders.

The broad smile that parted his lips the moment the first fuzzy-headed boy tried to tackle him outside of town remained fixed on his face throughout the hours-long lunch Larinda insisted we attend. Villagers packed the local inn where a ridiculously tall, painfully thin man tended bar, served tables, and wove between rowdy diners faster than I thought possible.

We ate our fill of fish plucked fresh from the sea and vegetables grown by rugged hands.

There was no chatter of wars or battles. No one spoke of evil spirits or long-dead queens.

There was only laughter and an overwhelming sense of communal love.

At the center of it all was Declan.

As the last of the platters were cleared, and a final round of ale was poured, Larinda and Declan leaned toward one another and chatted. My heart warmed watching the pair. No cloak ever woven could have hidden the affection between them. And despite the seriousness painting each of their faces, I knew the reunion filled each of their souls.

For some reason unknown to me, it filled mine with questions.

Before the invasion, when Declan and I were still cadets trying to pass exams and not hate each other too much, I knew who I was. When I realized how hopelessly I’d fallen for him, I knew myself even better. When he professed his own feelings, and my heart threatened to burst free, I knew my path forward.

Now, after spending time with Declan and his mother, the Keeper of the Well of Magic, and seeing him interact with the inhabitants of this island, I was no longer sure I knew anything.

He did not simply have a Gift. He possessed many Gifts. Spirits, he was chosen by magic to guard our world from evil and darkness.

And I thought being a lord’s son came with pressure and expectations.

My silly insecurities were nothing next to what everyone demanded of him.

I loved and respected him so much—more than I’d ever experienced with anyone.

It was not the power he wielded or the knowledge he now possessed; it was his way.

He drew people to him.

They wanted to be near him, to know him, to love him.

Even without his talking owl, Declan became the center of every room he entered. Now, with a reputation and fame matched by only the Queen herself, he was a blazing sun in a sea of twinkling stars.

Standing by his side was . . . harder than I expected.

I still had no Gift.

I would never have one.

Not that long ago, we shared that failing. It had drawn us together in—I do not know, a shared misery?

Now, I was alone.

Watching Declan and Larinda made me feel even more so.

I knew I was being ridiculous, even when those words were spoken only in my head, but I could not help the feeling as it washed over me, coating me with unease.

Declan caught me staring and smiled.

The moment our eyes locked, warmth traveled up my arms and into my chest. I hadn’t meant to smile back. I could not stop myself.

Damned Declan Rea and his mystical spell.

I was entranced.

And I thought he was. I knew he was. He loved me.

But would he always?

When the routine of life returned, and I remained Mute, would the most magical man in the entire world still want me by his side?

Would he tire of my inability to perform even basic magic?

Would he want someone without a golden collar to stand next to him?

We were still young with long lives ahead of us. Would he want me throughout all of those years? Could he want me that long?

Then something dawned on me, something I should have thought about before:

How long would Declan live?

Decades? Centuries? Longer?

He was “of magic,” as Kels? said. Would his life be extended, as had those of Atikus and even Kels? herself?

Would my life be little more than a grain of sand in the ocean’s depths of his life?

Would he remember me when . . . ?

“Are you all right?”

I nearly leaped out of my chair.

“Sweet Spirits, Dec, you scared the life out of me.”

He chuckled. “You looked so serious. Larinda called your name a few times, but you didn’t respond. We were beginning to worry.”

I ran a hand through my hair, something Declan did when he was nervous, and smiled as though he’d made a joke. “You know me, always deep in thought. I am fine.”

Larinda’s bony fingers dug into my forearm as her other hand pulled my face down toward her so she could kiss my cheek. “Ayden Byrne, you keep our Declan safe, ya hear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, swallowing hard.

“Now.” Larinda hooked her arm in Declan’s and led us out of the inn. “You two need t’ git going. I can feel t’ Keeper’s disquiet all t’ way over here.”

The pack of children escorted us out of town.

Escort may have been too kind a word.

They swarmed about us, a swirling, squealing, squalling mass of tiny humanity that never seemed to still. Had I not been so caught up in my own thoughts, I would have loved every moment.

Nowhere in the world had I witnessed such unbridled joy as on the isle of Rea Utu.

By the time we reached the cavern and set eyes on the silver gate, my legs ached and my temples throbbed. I tossed my pack down and slumped onto a cot shoved against one wall.

Declan eyed me but said nothing, setting his pack beside mine and stepping to the table to fill two glasses with wine. “Here, this should knock out your soreness.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, taking the glass and downing it in one long swallow.

His brows rose as he sipped. “Thirsty?”

I pressed my palms to my eyes. “Dec, I . . . I do not know what . . . I mean . . . dammit.”

I stood, covered the distance to the table in three strides, refilled my glass, and downed it again in one draft.

Declan stared and blinked, his glass frozen halfway to his mouth.

“I do not know what to think or feel. You are the Son of Magic or the Bond-Mate or the Heir of Magic—or whatever new title they have concocted that is grander than before.” I set my glass down a little too hard. The clank echoed through the cave. “What am I now? Your sidekick? Your useless, Mute companion?”

“Ayden—” He reached out for me, but I stepped back.

“You do not need me, Dec. I will only hold you back. I’m . . . nothing next to you.”

“Ayden, please don’t—”

“See, you can’t even deny it. You know it to be true. The moment we get home, you will throw yourself into the world’s problems, and I will be tossed—” His lips slammed into mine, silencing whatever idiocy I was about to say next. Firm hands held my head, refusing to let me flee or pull back, forcing me to receive the full weight of his passion.

I only resisted a moment.

Maybe less.

His kiss was ravenous. It felt as though he channeled every moment of desire and longing he had ever felt in his short life into that one act.

My knees buckled.

Then his hands left my head, and he began unclasping my cloak.

“You are my life, Ayden Byrne, now and always. None of this matters without you. None of it.”

His breath was hot and wet, and I couldn’t drink it in fast enough.

My mind screamed in protest.

Why did I not pull back? Why did my voice falter?

Why could I not resist this man?

Why was I still thinking?

His lips and tongue devoured me, and I felt myself surrender.

In this man’s arms, pressed against his chest, this was where I longed to be. It was where I belonged.

We both stood naked, kissing and rubbing and gripping.

The cool cavern felt more like an oven.

And I wanted more.

Declan pulled back from our kisses and rasped, “If anyone ever talked about you like you just did, I would beat the ever-loving shit out of them. Do you hear me? Nobody talks about you like that, not even you.”

His words held the conviction of a thousand jurists, and I knew in my bones he meant every word.

How had I won this man? How had the Spirits granted it so?

He dropped to his knees so fast I barely had time to gasp as his tongue teased my already moistened head.

My whole body spasmed as my cock twitched.

“Damn, Dec.”

He gripped my balls with one hand, pulling them back out of the way, forcing me to stand even more erect than before. His tongue traveled my length, tickling and teasing, making me squirm and throb. His other hand reached up, and he raked fingers through the fine hairs of my chest. Then he kneaded the muscles, gripping and squeezing.

I threw my head back as his mouth enveloped me, swallowed me down to the base. I felt my head scrape somewhere deep in his throat. As he pulled back, the warmth of the world left me for the briefest moment, then I was inside him again.

And again.

“If you keep doing that—”

“Don’t you dare.” Declan pulled back and stood, gripping my cock with one hand. “This is mine, you hear me. It doesn’t fire until I release the arrow.”

A laugh erupted from somewhere deep in my gut. “Going full Ranger on me?”

He squeezed.

“Ah!” I saw stars.

“Hands on the table,” he ordered. “You may be a lordling, but I am your superior officer.”

“Says who?”

He grabbed my arm, spun me around, and bent me over, forcing my palms flat on the table. Before I could think of some sharp retort, he was spreading my cheeks and spearing his tongue deep into dark places.

Again, I squirmed my way over the damn table.

“Mother of fucking fuckery, Dec. If you get any deeper—”

He spread me wider and shoved himself so far up my ass I thought he might lose his tongue.

I had never felt fire inside me before, but damn, if it didn’t blaze within.

His hand reached around as his tongue dove again, and I was sure my control would shatter.

Then he rose, and I felt him press against me.

“Do you want this?” he asked.

“Gods, yes, Dec. Please.”

He pressed just the tip inside.

I leaned forward. “Yes!”

He slid in, just a bit more.

“Fuck, Dec, get inside me.”

He slid all the way in.

“Ow!”

“You said—”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

So he did.

When we were both spent, and the magic of the wine failed to revive us for a repeat performance, I lay with my head on Declan’s chest, his fingers stroking my hair. We refused to dress, preferring the coolness of the cavern and warmth of each other’s touch to the feel of fabric.

“Where did all that come from earlier?” He kissed my head.

“All what?” I asked drearily.

“That horse shit about you being nothing.”

“Oh, that.” I nuzzled my cheek against his chest and breathed in his scent, the tang of the sea mixed with his mother’s lavender bath oils. “I do not know. I was being ridiculous. There is no need—”

“There is every need.” He lifted my chin so he could look into my eyes. “You are everything to me, Ayden. Without you, I would never have made it this far. I would never be able to handle all the stares and questions and . . . shit . . . everything else that comes with being . . . whatever I am. You are the reason I can do most everything. Without you, I am nothing. You hear me?”

I blinked away a pesky tear. I would not let him see me cry. I would not.

It trickled down my cheek.

He wiped it away with a thumb.

Dammit.

“I do not deserve you, Declan Rea.”

“Clearly not.” He smirked, then kissed my head, then held our foreheads pressed together.

“I love you, lordling, now and always.”

His words were a comfort, his touch a salve.

And yet, the roiling of my soul would not relent.