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Shey’s arms tightened around him as if he could read Rayne’s thoughts, and he whispered, “I’ve got you.”
The prince knew him far too well, had always been able to read him even though they’d been lovers for less than two years. A lump grew in Rayne’s throat, and he allowed himself to cling to Shey. He shouldn’t. This was wrong. It felt like a betrayal of Eno, but for just a moment he indulged himself. After all the running, hiding, and simply being afraid for their lives, Rayne needed a few seconds of this.
Releasing a slow breath, Rayne closed his eyes and allowed himself this time to rest his cheek on Shey’s shoulder and hug him.
“I’m alive and well,” Rayne said, his voice rough to his own ear.
“I can’t believe it. When I got your message, I thought for sure it was a cruel joke.” Shey loosened his hold on Rayne and took a small step back so he could meet his eyes, but he didn’t release Rayne.
Shey was one of the few men he knew who were as tall as he was, allowing them to easily meet each other’s gaze. But where Rayne was tall and lanky, Shey was broad shouldered with hard muscles from a lifetime of demanding physical activity. He wasn’t stuck in diplomatic meetings and royal appearances. Those tasks were handed over to his sister, Fiona. Shey was a fighting prince, determined to keep his kingdom safe with his sword.
“You thought it was a joke and you still met me?” Rayne demanded.
Shey smiled, looking a little sheepish. “I did bring extra guards.”
“I saw them.”
“And I am armed. I’m quite prepared to blow your brains out.” There was a twinkle in his blue eyes as if there was a hidden meaning in his words, but Rayne was taking care to ignore that meaning completely. Shey had always liked to take risks. Rayne had hoped that he might have outgrown it, or at least learn to be more cautious after what had happened with Erya.
“Dammit, Shey.” Rayne cupped the side of his face, glaring into the other man’s eyes. “Please tell me you’re being careful.”
“I swear to you, Rayne, I am careful. Maybe not this time, but I didn’t care about the risks. I wanted it to be you.” He grabbed the hand on his cheek and pulled it forward, pressing a kiss to the center of Rayne’s palm. “I needed it to be you.”
Rayne held on to his smile while hating the awkward swirl of emotions in his stomach. This couldn’t happen. The old days were gone now, and they both had to move forward with their lives.
Gently, Rayne pulled his hand from Shey’s grip. “We must talk and quickly. We have a lot of ground to cover, and I worry there isn’t much time.”
Shey blew out a deep breath and nodded as he took a step backward. “No, you are right. Let’s sit and have a drink. You must eat and tell me what the hell is going on.” He started to walk toward the table and then stopped, swinging around to Rayne. “Your Prince Caelan? He’s dead. Rayne, I’m so very sorry. I know what he meant to you. Tell me what I can do.”
“Yes, we’ll talk about everything, but you must be frank with me as well. I need to know what is going on in Caspagir. You have Empire soldiers inside your borders.”
Shey’s expression soured, and he waved a hand in the air while cursing the Empire. “Bastards. All of them are fucking bastards.” He dropped into his seat and snatched up his wineglass, draining it in a single swallow.
Rayne sat in the chair opposite him and picked up his own glass, sipping the amber-colored wine. It was good, too good to be found in a small restaurant like this. Shey had probably brought it from his private reserve.
“Please, Shey. What’s going on?” Rayne asked.
Shey smirked at him. “I’m just supposed to hand all the details over to you, and you offer up nothing.”
Rayne nearly moaned in frustration. Shey could be incurably playful when he was in the mood, and it was with very few people. Only those he trusted and was close to, making it all the more special that he clearly still trusted Rayne. “I have far more to lose and far more at stake than you. Trust me, the information I have to share will be worth it,” he pressed, trying to tease his companion’s curiosity.
Shey made a show of pouring more wine into his glass and examining it.
“Would it help if I told you that I also like the blue?” Rayne lifted his eyes to peer at Shey’s hair, which was now a brilliant shade of electric blue. The style was the same as it had always been with the sides cut short and the top left to grow long so that it partially fell across the scar on his face. When Rayne had left Sirelis years ago, Shey’s hair had been his natural shade of pale-blond. He’d seen pictures of the new color over the years, but they’d not done it justice.
