Aurin could have sat there for an age, watching Salem. Seeing the fading sunlight touch highlights in his jet-black hair. Watching him close his eyes as the water ran rivulets over his tired and aching body. Noticing the way droplets of water clung to his eyelashes like diamonds.
He was so, so beautiful.
Time stretched, marked only by the shifting light and the steady flow of water. Aurin was reluctant to leave, but it was time. “We should get you back,” he said. “So you can rest before the celebration tonight.”
Salem nodded his agreement and began to stand up. Aurin was quick to assist him out of the water, then helped him into his clothes. “The people who live here,” he whispered quietly. He was sure they were being watched or listened to. He couldn't see anyone, but that didn't mean anything.
“Yes?” Salem asked. “What about them?”
“Will you tell me what they are? They're not human, are they?”
Salem's smile widened. “Tonight is the celebration of Yule, to mark the beginning of winter. There will be ceremonial dancing and music, and my love, oh, you will see exactly what they are.”
Chapter
Three
SALEM
Aurin was excited,and Salem understood why. Salem had been secretive about what tonight’s celebration would entail because he wanted Aurin to experience the full surprise and wonder, and to Aurin’s credit, he hadn’t hounded him for hints.
But he was enthusiastic to help Salem get up and ready after his nap.
Salem had underestimated how much a walk to the stream to bathe would take out of him; it had been a sharp reminder of his injuries and perhaps a warning to take his recovery more seriously.
Aurin had been so wonderful during it all. The battle with Lusca, when he’d been so brave. And here, in the mountain camp, he’d been so attentive, so gentle and caring.
He was Salem’s shining light, his little golden glimmer of hope. In his darkest moment, when he’d thought he was about to truly depart this world, Aurin had been his light home.
Aurin fixed Salem’s shirt. It was a scratchy fabric despite being finely woven and well, it wasn’t Salem’s favourite. It was borrowed, as were the clothes Aurin was wearing, and Salem was truly grateful. But...
Sometimes being a cat, wearing a skin of fur and not clothes at all, was preferable to this.
Aurin flattened the fabric at Salem’s neck and gave him a warm smile. “Soon,” he said, as if he could read Salem’s mind. “You’ll be able to morph soon and stretch out all the kinks; you’ll be more comfortable.”
Salem lifted Aurin’s chin and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I long to do many things.”
Aurin chuckled, his creamy skin glowing in the soft candlelight of the room. “Yes, soon for that as well. You can have me all you want, but only when you are well again.”
“Not soon enough.”
Aurin’s cheeks flushed like the prettiest peach in the orchard. He tapped a gentle fingertip to Salem’s lips. “I’m very excited to see the festivities tonight, but if you become tired or unwell, you must tell me, and we’ll come back, okay?”
“Yes,” Salem agreed. “But once you see what you are about to see, you won’t want to leave.”
Aurin took Salem’s hand and led him to the door. “Please don’t keep me waiting any longer. I can smell the most amazing things.”
“Okay, my love,” Salem said. “Whatever your heart desires.” Then he stopped. “I should warn you, though.”
Aurin looked a little panicked. “Warn me of what?”
“The mead. It’s potent stuff.”
Aurin exhaled with relief and swatted Salem’s arm. “I thought you were being serious. I thought it was going to be some dangerous thing to keep watch for.”
Salem laughed. “The mead is a dangerous thing.”
“I meant like a dangerous ritual or a weapon.”
