Daromir falls back into the long grass, and Vana climbs on top of him. He’s graceless and clumsy, and they’ll both feel the bruise from his elbow striking Daromir’s upper arm. Daromir doesn’t care as he pulls Vana on top of him. They’ll both feel these bruises too: Daromir’s fingers digging into Vana’s arms, unwilling to ever let go.
Daromir’s cock strains against his trousers, and he doesn’t have the coordination to undress. Vana ruts against him, his eyes shuttering closed. Water slides down Vana’s face, and Daromir’s eyes sting with how happy he is. He hooks one leg over Vana’s hip, pulling him even closer as they move together.
Vana’s pleasure is far more thrilling than Daromir’s own. Every gasp, every rocking movement, blurs the lines between their bodies and souls, until Daromir wouldn’t be surprised if he could shoot lightning from his hands. He wouldn’t be surprised if Vana could freeze the rain into hail. But Daromir’s magic is quiet within him, completely at peace. The only magic ensnaring them now is the bloodbond.
The magic they chose together.
The sky darkens and the rain surrounds them, cold and cleansing as their orgasm burns through them.
Gasping, Vana braces himself with one hand in the muddy grass. With the other, he touches Daromir’s face. Even in the near-darkness, the wonder is clear in Vana’s eyes. “Daro, darling, are you crying?”
Daromir could blame it on the rain, but there’s nobody to impress here. Just the love of his life, who wants Daromir exactly as he is. “Happy crying. Incredibly happy crying.”
“Me too,” Vana says, and kisses Daromir again. Then Vana slumps half-sprawled over Daromir. He nuzzles the already-soaked fabric of Daromir’s shirt. “Did you pack firestarters?”
“Plenty.” Daromir is glad he was the one to handle the packing. They’ll need a fire to warm up, so Vana doesn’t catch a cold. But that will have to wait until Daromir can move again. It’s hard to feel cold with Vana pressed against him, idly tracing patterns through his wet shirt. This, right here, is exactly where Daromir wants to be.
Except he can’t help wondering what comes next.
Daromir’s goals never extended beyond getting Vana out of Draskora. It’s difficult to assume they’ll be able to simply rejoin House Tellik. But it’s even more difficult to imagine they’ll be able to disappear. Even if they did disappear, what would theydofor a living?
Will they have to become farmers or wandering minstrels? Fuck, no. Those are terrible ideas. Hopefully Vana has something better in mind.
“What are you thinking about?” Vana asks.
“What are we going to do in Kaiskara?”
Vana shifts against him. “Oh, that. I have a surprise, possibly.”
Daromir sighs. “Should I be worried?”
“I sent a letter before we left,” Vana says. “If all goes according to plan, we’ll meet up with Arla because we need a ship. But we aren’t going to Kaiskara.”
“Oh, all right then.” Daromir strokes Vana’s shoulder, savoring how right the touch feels.
“Aren’t you going to ask where we’re going?” Vana asks, then yawns. The day is catching up with him.
Daromir doesn’t need answers. He just needs to get Vana dry, warm, and rested. “I don’t care where we’re going, as long as I’m with you.”
Vana laughs sleepily. “Then there’s nothing to worry about. You’re stuck with me, and I don’t want anyone else.”
Daromir grins. Storm-drenched and exhausted, he’s never been happier.
?
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Three Letters
From Vana Kaiskara Dire to Bellamy Galant Sandry, Third Prince of Silaise:
Dear Bellamy,
I hope you’ve been well since we last met. I’m not sure whether Rakos has told you that I recognized you at the bloodmasque. Since you hadn’t formally announced your presence, whether at the masque or in Draskora, I assumed you would prefer my discretion.
I mention this not to imply that you owe me a favor, but simply to jog your memory. I believe my proposal will benefit Tavoc and Silaise as much as myself, so I wouldn’t precisely categorize my request as a favor.
My bloodguard and I are leaving Draskora and cutting our ties with House Dire. This does not violate the Draskoran-Kaiskaran treaty, which has no meaningful provision for the term of my stay. I’m confident my actions are fully legal.
