29. Twenty-Nine

He found the pigs.

It took some wandering but eventually, Ryurikov located a quaint, half-timber house three stories high, near the north end of Briarmour. Lopsided, courtesy of colossal roots pushing it upward.

He strode through long grass to a fence. Beyond it, a mud patch where the pigs indulged in caking themselves. Their snorts and the stream’s lullaby were oddly comforting. Ryurikov rested his forearms across the well-maintained fence to watch the drove, just as the back door to the wonky house banged open. A lad in simple attire and old boots, carrying a bucket, nearly stumbled down stone steps leading into the garden, his feet catching on stray roots.

Hidden under the cover of shadows, Ryurikov went unnoticed. Until he didn’t. The lad dropped the bucket with a yelp, spilling slop the pigs instantly darted to with delight.

“Sir!”

The boy seemed young, hair tousled and eyes keen, reminding Ryurikov a little of Andrew. A strange pang resonated deep within his chest, but since he didn’t know what it meant, he kicked it aside.

“I don’t mean to intrude.”

“My Jarl, you could never—”

“I’m not your fucking Jarl!” Ryurikov pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He hadn’t meant to break loose. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” said the boy, his smile uncertain. “I don’t like being called Pascal, but it’s my name.”

“That’s not—” Ryurikov pressed his lips together. “What do you want to be called?”

“Dracus!”

He tilted his head back. “Is that right?”

“I know that’s your name. Not your real name, but I like it. What do you want to be called?”

With some hesitation, “Ruri is fine.”

A pig’s ass swung into the lad’s legs, nearly sending him down to the ground. He grunted, and walked a little closer to the fence. “They say you’re a prince.”

“People say a lot of things.”

“A rogue prince.”

Ryurikov huffed. “Tend to your pigs, Dracus, before I grab one and cook it.”

He patted the fence before pushing away from it. His feet carried him along the stream lined by thick briar on the other side. It was peaceful, birds had found their way to the trees, mere flecks of bright violet from where he stood below. Only a day since Vasili had left. It would be another two weeks before he’d return with whatever decision Mulgar made.

Ryurikov hadn’t spoken to Awimak for that entire day, or even seen him, occupying himself by wandering through town. He’d gotten to know some of its people, and slept in a tree. It felt wrong. He missed Awimak, but he didn’t know how to confront him now that he knew his demon hadn’t been honest with him.

What if the truth was something horrific?

What if this blood-swear bound them together, in a way he wasn’t yet prepared for? How did it affect what he and Awimak had?

Ryurikov swivelled on his heel with a sudden determination to ask. Stopped mid-pivot, when he caught sight of his demon, standing some distance from the drove of pigs. Blood remained streaked across his skull, blazing eyes intense. Tightening Ryurikov’s chest in a way that made him want to run to him.

He didn’t run, but walked.

Until the last few steps, during which he lost all sense of himself and darted into Awimak’s open arms. Ryurikov grasped enormous horns and pressed his forehead against the skull while lifted off the ground. He kissed the bone, eyes fluttering shut. His lips parted to greet the tongue gliding into his mouth.

Claws on his thighs kept him secure as Awimak carried him off to sit behind an ample trunk by the stream. Ryurikov straddled his demon’s hips. He ran his hands over the rough horns, down to flirt with the silken tresses, curling them around his fingers. The pointed tongue retreated, and briefly, he chased after it to lick along the slippery muscle. A low, satisfied growl, the claws on him clenching around his waist, pushing their groins together.

I’VE MISSED YOU.

“I can tell.” Ryurikov moved forward, the sway of hips fluid, bringing their clothed erections to collide. He leaned in again, dipped his head to the side, and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Awimak’s elongated jaw. “Same. To you.”

Another lap at his cheek, leaving the skin sticky. YOU CAN SAY IT.

He littered kisses down Awimak’s neck, inhaling as much as his lungs would allow, starved for that earthy scent. Then, Ryurikov moved back to gaze into sun-like eyes. Still stroking the dark hair, he shook his head.

“I can’t.”

YOU CAN. Awimak gently brushed his knuckles across the scars on Ryuirkov’s face. I WILL NOT PUNISH YOU FOR SOMETHING YOU HOLD DEAR.

He jerked his head to the side, panic fastening its iron grip around his chest. Thanks to his traitorous subconscious, Awimak knew a great deal about him. Including his father’s treatment of him. About the way he relentlessly beat anything Ryurikov dared to enjoy out of him, calling it a waste of time. A weakness.

He’d not expected Awimak to be so up front about it, the urge to run off and occupy himself by killing things quickly became overwhelming.

“I’m not worried you’ll punish me,” he managed, throat tight. He moved to get away, but Awimak secured his hold, keeping his hips pinned. “Don’t.”

SAY IT, MY LOVE.

He shook his head again, his ability to breathe at risk of escaping.

If he didn’t say he missed Awimak, or that he loved him, then it wasn’t real. When the inevitable happened and he was once again robbed of that shred of happiness he’d found, Ryurikov could shrug it off, say it didn’t matter. It hadn’t been real anyway.

I LOST CONTROL, said Awimak then, momentarily easing Ryurikov out of his struggle. BUT PERHAPS I DID INTEND TO BLOOD-SWEAR. I DO NOT REGRET IT.

“What does it mean?”

Awimak had yet to ease his hold on his hips. IT MEANS THAT SHOULD I FAIL TO PROTECT YOU, I WILL SUFFER THE SAME FATE AS YOU.

“So if I die…?”

Without needing to lean in, Awimak lapped at Ryurikov’s throat, slowly, as if to savour the salt clinging to his skin. WHEN YOU ARE SADDENED, I WILL SUFFER MELANCHOLY ALONGSIDE YOU. WHEN YOU BLEED, I BLEED. AND YES, WHEN YOU DIE, SO TOO WILL I.

Ryurikov’s touch drifted to broad shoulders and clenched. Loosened. Clenched again. How was he meant to respond to something so intense?

MY LOVE FOR YOU EXTENDS PAST THE DEEPEST OCEANS. IT REACHES FURTHER THAN THE SKY. I WOULD NOT HAVE IT ANY OTHER WAY.

Awimak pulled him against his chest and held firm, both bringing home his words and preventing escape. Ryurikov could only inhale, sharply. Grasp at him more tightly. Bury his face into the crook of his neck. Feel the steady thrum of his heart against his own.

DO NOT WORRY. Awimak nuzzled the side of Ryurikov’s head. I WILL WAIT FOR WHEN YOU ARE READY.

“What if I’m never?”

THEN I WILL WAIT FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES. BUT I WILL WAIT.

All he could do was cling to Awimak, struggling to think of something to respond with. Even after being released and allowed to relax, sitting with his back resting against Awimak’s abdomen, words continued to evade Ryurikov. All he managed was to stay, stroking his fingertips across the claw that in turn, stroked him across the stomach.

A trickle of sunlight found its way past smoke and the dark green canopy, turning the stream into bright, blinding lustre. As far as settling anywhere went, this wasn’t the worst place to do it. Now that he’d claimed this town for himself out of spite, he supposed he had no choice but to keep it.

“Is staying here agreeable to you?” For some reason, his voice was hoarse, like he’d been screaming in agony for years. Before Awimak could respond, he added, “Since apparently, you were banished to the Unbroken Wilds?”

AH.

“You’ll tell me?”

I WILL KEEP NO SECRETS FROM YOU.

And yet it took a good while for Awimak to speak again.

I WAS NOT ALWAYS AS I AM NOW.WHEN I WAS YOUNGER—Ryurikov bit down on the need to jest about Awimak being a sapling—I ONCE LOVED ANOTHER. HIS MALEFICENCE HAD AN UNINTENDED EFFECT ON ME. I DID THINGS ON HIS BEHALF THAT WERE QUESTIONABLE.

Ryurikov raised an eyebrow. “More questionable than murdering humans and Candescent on my behalf?”

THAT WAS DIFFERENT.

Amusement laced his exhale. Ryurikov wasn’t so sure he believed that. “I’m not going to ask you for the details unless you want to divulge.”

I HELPED HIM REAWAKEN THE DEAD. I PUT HIM IN A POSITION OF POWER.

Craning his neck, Ryurikov trailed his gaze over Awimak’s jaw, up to the narrow sphere of fire within the skull’s orbit. His eye was trained on him, likely to gauge his reaction.

“I regularly put mouse droppings in Radmila’s dinners.”

Awimak canted his head. WICKED, BUT NOT THE SAME.

“We all do stupid shit as kids, Awi.” He gave the bark-armoured arm a firm squeeze. It didn’t yield the slightest, only shedded some lichen. “Who banished you, and what does that mean for you now that you’re here?”

MY MOTHER. SHE TOLD ME I WAS FREE TO LEAVE THE WOODS WHEN READY. IT WASN’T BANISHMENT, BUT PAYING PENANCE.

Ryurikov hummed. “Lucky I found you at the right time, then.”

YES.A firm, brief squeeze to his stomach.

They fell into a silence heavy with reflection, but companionable. Eventually, Ryurikov sighed, patted Awimak’s arm, and got up. He held his hand out.

“Will you stay here with me, Awimak?”

I WILL STAY HERE WITH YOU, MY LOVE.Awimak grasped his hand, clearly playing along while Ryurikov helped him up, then stooped low to slather his face with saliva.

“Come on then, my radiant imp,” he said, leaving his skin retted, “we’ll see what we can do for this stupid town.”

As Awimak turned away, Ryurikov was certain he’d caught amusement. His own faded when he saw a large, crooked gash along Awimak’s shoulder blade. It was open, and looked as painful as his own. He had no idea how he’d missed this. Awimak hadn’t sported the injury that following morning, he was sure of it. It must have developed over the past day.

His mouth thinned into a line, teeth clenched so hard his jaw quaked. Awimak faced him again, a question in his burning eyes.

“I love you.” Choked words, they’d come out angry. Defiantly. Leaving a strange but not unpleasant taste in his mouth and an even greater impression in his heart.

Ryurikov stood there, utterly terrified. Not of Awimak’s reaction, but of what he’d just carved into stone, and who might come to bring it down. Smash it apart, kick it to dust. He’d made it veridical, breakable.

There was no going back now.

ARE YOU GOING TO LOSE CONSCIOUSNESS?

Ryurikov started. Through gritted teeth, he barked, “No!”

YOU LOOK PALE.

“I’m a red-head, that’s a given!”

PERHAPS A TO THE TAVERN FIRST. YOU NEED SUSTENANCE.

“Awi!”

His asshole of a demon closed the distance to gather him in gigantic arms. Angry and confused, Ryurikov didn’t want to be embraced, but seemed that Awimak didn’t care about that just then, squeezing so hard, he thought he might shit himself.

“You better make sure I don’t regret this,” Ryurikov ground out and nosed Awimak’s hair until he uncovered a furry ear. He clamped his teeth around it, just hard enough to get a scalding snort rolling down his back.

The day didn’t pass terribly. In fact, though he was hesitant to call it that, Ryurikov thought his trip around the whole town with Awimak was…pleasant. Its people seemed to have learned that he preferred space, and didn’t approach or stare at Awimak unless he spoke to them directly.

Most of them, Ryurikov had no business with and so didn’t address. Those he spotted on the streets in rags he approached with pursed lips and great reluctance. Awimak’s eyes burned holes into his back as he bent low and hoisted a gaunt-faced man to his unsteady feet.

“Bring yourself to the palace,” Ryurikov told him in a pointlessly quiet mutter. “Eat what you can and rest. Stay as long as you want.”

Bewildered stammering was the response, and he gave the old man a mild shove to get him moving.

BETTER THAN THEM. YOU ALWAYS WERE.

He rubbed his palms across the length of his thighs. “And bathe, you old splotch! You’re disgusting.”

STILL BETTER THAN THEM.

Ryurikov ignored him, muttering to himself, “That’s the fifth vagrant I’ve peeled off the streets.”

Why, when late Jarl’s coffers had been filled to the point of eruption? Of course, they both knew the answer to a question he needn’t give voice to. There were hoarders, and it didn’t take long to hunt them down, either. All it took was asking around.

The sole of his leather boot collided with a tired door to a dwelling just as fatigued. It creaked open, and his hand hovered over the hilt of his dagger. A pale face peered at him. Only a teenager.

“Your parents?” Ryurikov demanded.

“My Prince,” she quavered, bowing low as she opened the door wide to allow him entry.

He stepped inside an overtly modest home, floors bare but for one sheepskin. The beds too were plain, only boards with straw. That didn’t exactly surprise him. He glowered at the two parents seated by a shoddy round table all the same, laden with food, a display of their greed. No meat, though.

“Whispers speak of your name, Borg.” Ryurikov addressed who he presumed was the father. “They tell me you’ve been avaricious.”

Shock upon his arrival morphed into terror. It flickered to life within grey eyes, then overtook the man’s body in fierce tremors. The father stammered, incomprehensibly, while his wife opened and closed her mouth around strangled words.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Ryurikov said, folding his arms over his chest. “I’m not going to rule you through fear of pain, or being eaten, or whatever the fuck else that wank-hose came up with. No, you’re my charge and you’ll be well fed and looked after. You’ll have everything you’ve ever hoped for.” He swept closer to the table, glaring down his nose at them. “Your nights, however, will be haunted by your worst fears. You’ll endure nightmare after nightmare until you fight the need to sleep. Until you begin to see things that aren’t there. Anything good in your life will lose all meaning with relentless exhaustion—unless you relinquish anything you took beyond your fair share. Do that, and you’ll live a happy life.”

That was all it took, and Ryurikov left the ramshackle dwelling with surplus riches.

A HUMAN’S RELUCTANCE TO FACE THEIR INNER TURMOIL WILL NEVER CEASE TO PERPLEX.

Ryurikov regarded his demon with a faint tilt of his head. “Would’ve thought you’d gotten used to that by now, drinking from my subconscious.”

Awimak’s gaze flickered with mirth. SUCH SELF AWARENESS, MY LOVE.

He narrowed his eyes, then promptly turned on his heel and walked off—slowly, unwilling to let Awimak think he was angry.

Valka returned to his side on the way to the palace with news of having found a handful of townsfolk capable of combat. Ryurikov suggested she train them, and offered them the title of Defender to entice, stationing the handful of men and women at the town’s entrances. It would have to do until they found more people willing to help.

“What of the silver weapons we need?” Valka asked.

Ryurikov rubbed his thumb and pointer fingers together. “I don’t want to leave Briarmour until I’ve dealt with what I need to. Can’t risk Vasili showing up while I’m gone. I know he wants those hags.”

“I can go, then. Let me?”

He gave his sister an odd look. “Since when do you need my permission for anything?”

A shrug. “You’re in charge now, and I’m good at following orders.” For some reason, that statement was followed by a wink.

“Get the fuck out of here. Do what you want,” Ryurikov snapped. “But bring… I don’t know, drakes with you? I’d rather you didn’t go alone.”

“Aww.” Valka swerved into him, her shoulder bumping his with a force that shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did. He staggered, but at least she didn’t knock him over. “Can I take Mauvie with me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You said I can do what I want.”

“Within reason! Mauvella is—”

They reached the wide stoop leading up to the palace. A bush along their path emitted a screech. Mauvella burst out, broken twigs and leaves fluttering in her wake as she launched herself at Ryurikov.

A large claw caught her by the face with ease, her body dangling like a poppet. She flailed, bony fists slamming into bark-armoured forearms, her screeches muffled. The moment her feet reconnected with the ground, she settled down.

Awimak snorted angrily. ONE DAY, MAUVELLA.

“But not today,” said Ryurikov dryly.

Mauvella eagerly held out both fists. In each, a worm-like tail dangled between her fingers. “Found more!”

“You’ll put the cats out of a job,” he said, then glanced at Valka. “You deal with this, I’m exhausted.”

Exhausted and starved, but as they entered the palace, the cacophony of chatter and laughter assailed his head. Ryurikov groaned, then quickly shifted to the side as several children darted through the gap between him and Awimak. Ugh.

“None of them better sneak into our room.”

Which, once he finally reached it after ducking away from admirers and those wishing to express their gratitude, or servants trying too hard, appeared to have changed somewhat.

Ryurikov’s eyebrows raised at what had essentially become a large bower. Thick, ancient branches ensnared the room, blocking out the hideous dark walls and ceiling with rich, moss-covered wood and verdure. Lanterns dotted the place, and the window had become a large gap to better welcome more light. The dresser below was caged in, the fireplace now beautifully framed, while the bed had become much like what Awimak built in Jezibaba’s back garden.

Nightingales perched by what now served as the window, singing a late evening song. A sweet lullaby to settle the tension in Ryurikov’s neck. Stepping further inside, he admired the abundance of furs covering the den, the faint citrine glow of whatever magical insects these trees attracted, and the plush moss blanketing the bower. In the very centre, a stash of fresh fruit and a rundlet.

He turned to gaze upon his demon, who hesitated by the doorway.

I NEST WHEN ANXIOUS.

Ryurikov smiled.

He guided Awimak into their nest. Removed the cloth around his hips. Feathered kisses across every inch of dark grey skin. He drew Awimak’s cock into his mouth, slid his finger past the ballsack, and explored. What he found was that Awimak had one more secret to share with him.

Upon shepherding him to bend over the thick edge of the den, Ryurikov showed Awimak just how pleased he was to see a tail, soft and furry. Not unlike a deer’s. He trailed kisses and nips down the toned ass, stopping on the inside of muscular thighs just where skin met fur. Awimak was sensitive there, ticklish even. More responsive still as he slipped slick fingers inside him, taking his time.

He sunk into Awimak’s clenching heat with a loud groan, a backward roll of his eyes. Stroked his demon up and down his spine, all the way to the tip of the tail, and back. Kissed anything he could reach. Awimak seemed to like that.

Seemed to like other things, too. Ryurikov was under no illusion that he could somehow reach the deeper parts of his demon, but he thought Awimak enjoyed himself. Ryurikov’s climax resulted in whispered confessions of love to spill from his lips with startling ease.

For a long while after, they simply laid with each other, arms twined to hold one another close, languid kisses peppered throughout a serene silence Ryurikov hadn’t known before.