Union (6 page)

“What does it say that concerns me?” he rephrased, letting Cerylea off the hook.

She gave him a grateful smile, opened the letter, and skimmed her fingers over the words until she found the part she was looking for. “Well, he was in a lot of trouble for leaving Alel to help us, but the elders seem to have accepted his reasoning… eventually.”

“Yes, I can’t imagine they were pleased to have their crown prince involving himself in our battles.” The elves rarely ventured out of the Forest of Hervath, and they made it a point to stay out of the conflicts between Torsere and the lowland armies. Ryneq had been more than a little surprised to see Morkryn and the others with Cerylea when they’d fought Hatak.

“It seems that rescuing one’s betrothed was a valid enough reason, this time.” She sighed and shook her head, and not for the first time Ryneq wondered if she was really okay with this arrangement.

“Cerylea—”

She immediately raised her hand to cut him off. “I know what you’re going to say, and yes, I’m sure about the wedding. A few ancient, set-in-their-ways elves aren’t going to stop me from marrying Morkryn and allying our kingdoms.”

“But they’ll expect you to stay in Alel after the wedding, for a month at least,” Ryneq insisted.

According to Prince Morkryn, Cerylea needed to live in Alel until their marriage bond was strong enough for the elven magic to recognize it. Only then would the elders be able to extend their protection to Torsere. Although Ryneq knew the alliance with the elves was the best option for Torsere, the thought of Cerylea not being here made his chest ache. She was all the family he had left.

“Ryneq….” Cerylea’s voice had softened and she reached out to take his hand. “That would be the same no matter who I married. At least with Morkryn, I can come back whenever I like after that.”

She didn’t say anything else, just held his hand until Ryneq pulled himself together and squeezed her fingers. “Besides”—her gaze flicked over to Nykin’s prone form—“you won’t be alone now.”

Ryneq swallowed past the lump in his throat, his mouth curving up into a small smile as he shifted to look at the naked dragon rider in his bed. The sheets barely covered Nykin’s ass, and Ryneq couldn’t help but admire the golden expanse of his back, where it tapered in from his broad shoulders, and—

“Ryneq?” Cerylea was smirking at him when he dragged his gaze away from Nykin to face her again. “I haven’t told you the main point of the letter yet.”

He gestured for her to continue.

“The elders have agreed to allow us entry into Alel from the sea. We can travel there by boat, instead of trying to cross the Neest River and risk another attack.”

Nykin stirred behind him, and Cerylea grinned as she got to her feet. “Anyway, we can discuss it later when you’re up and dressed.”

She bent to give Ryneq a quick kiss on the cheek before walking over to the door. Ryneq watched with amusement as she paused, her hand resting on the door handle, and looked back over her shoulder with a huge smile on her face. “Good morning, Nykin.”

“Morning, Your Highness,” Nykin answered automatically, then froze, his whole body tensing, and Ryneq grinned at the flush creeping over the back of Nykin’s neck.

Cerylea winked at her brother, then slipped out the door, her laughter echoing down the hall behind her. Nykin deflated as soon as the door clicked shut, a deep sigh leaving him as he rolled onto his side to peer up at Ryneq. “You both knew I wasn’t asleep, didn’t you?”

Nykin looked shocked they’d not fallen for his ruse, and Ryneq laughed loudly.

“The whole time?”

“Yes.” Ryneq reached over to ruffle his hair. Nykin said he didn’t feel right without the long hair a dragon rider typically had, and was determined to grow it out. Ryneq would never say anything, but he kind of liked it short as well. “No one can sleep through a visit from my sister.”

Nykin mumbled something under his breath, too quiet for Ryneq to catch. Ryneq raised his eyebrow and smirked at the glare Nykin shot him return.

“If you knew I was awake, why didn’t you say something?” Nykin pushed himself up to sit back against the headboard.

The sheets barely covered any of Nykin now, his gloriously naked body shamelessly on display, and Ryneq had to tear his gaze away to answer him. “Because you obviously weren’t comfortable with the whole situation, and I didn’t want to make it any worse for you.”

“Oh.”

Nykin was silent for a moment, and Ryneq took the opportunity to look at him some more. Nykin looked good splayed over his sheets, and Ryneq felt a sudden surge of possessiveness rise up in his chest.

The thought of Nykin sleeping anywhere other than right here had his fists clenching, but Ryneq struggled not to let any of it show. Nykin was fiercely independent and Ryneq’s jealous tendancies would not impress him. Nykin didn’t belong to him, he wasn’t a thing for Ryneq to hide away in his bedroom, no matter how much he might want to at the moment. He cleared his throat, pushed the feeling away, and stroked a hand over Nykin’s thigh.

“I’ll talk to my sister,” Ryneq said instead. “Once you move in here with me, I’ll ask her not to make any unannounced visits.”

“You don’t have to stop her com—”

Ryneq darted forward, cutting him off with a kiss. “Or to actually wait for us to answer when she knocks, instead of just barging in.” He pulled back a little, relieved to see the small smile on Nykin’s face now.

“Yeah, okay.” Nykin flushed as he looked down, and seemed just to notice his state of undress. “That’s probably for the best.” He eyed Ryneq’s hand where it still rested on his leg and grinned up at him. “Do we have time for…?”

Ryneq shifted on the bed and adjusted himself under the sheets with a groan. “You know I’d like nothing better than to stay here all day and have you countless times.” He paused, his eyes drawn down to Nykin’s lap where Nykin’s cock had started to thicken against his thigh.

“But?” Nykin prompted, his voice coming out a little rougher than before.

Ryneq reluctantly closed his eyes and tried to shake off the need to pin Nykin to the bed and fuck him again. “But… I have a lot to get done today. I can’t just….” He looked up, hoping Nykin understood. Sometimes Ryneq wondered what it would be like to ignore all his responsibilities and just do what the hell he wanted. But that wasn’t an option, especially not today. “Besides, don’t you have something to do?”

Nykin’s smile turned rueful as Ryneq removed his hand from Nykin’s thigh. “Yes, that’s true.” He cast a glance around the large room, taking everything in. “I never realized how large your quarters were before.” He climbed out of bed, ignoring his nakedness, and padded around on bare feet.

Ryneq snorted and began to get himself dressed. It’d stop him ogling Nykin’s bare ass, if nothing else. “I’m the king, Nykin. What did you expect?”

His bedroom took up a large part of the space, with a bathroom off to one side—although Ryneq preferred to take his bath in the main bedroom near the fire—and a sitting area leading out to a wide balcony on the other. The stone walls were painted white, the floor was made of Torserian marble that shone brightly when caught by the sun, and the décor was beautifully matched in varying shades of red and gold. It had been his room since he’d been old enough to walk. Neither he nor Cerylea had wanted to move into their parents’ rooms.

“I don’t have a lot of stuff to bring up here, you know.” Nykin grabbed his clothes from the floor and started to pull them on. “And most of it would just look out of place here.” He lowered his head, concentrating on lacing up his pants and avoiding Ryneq’s gaze.

It was a harsh reminder of the difference between their lives, and Ryneq hated it. Hated the fact Nykin felt the things that were important to him weren’t good enough to bring into Ryneq’s home. “Nykin,” he said, keeping his voice soft. “Bring whatever you need to make this your home too. I mean it.”

He received a nod and a relieved smile, and Ryneq felt something settle in his chest. For their relationship to work they still had a lot to sort out, and Ryneq knew it wasn’t all going to go smoothly. But having Nykin realize Ryneq wanted him to make these quarters his home seemed like progress.

Ryneq was almost fully dressed and sat down on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots. “Are you hungry?” he asked and looked up as Nykin came around the bed to stand in front of him. “I planned on eating breakfast with Cerylea while we discuss the wedding plans. You’re very welcome to join us.”

Ryneq wasn’t used to having to consider other people when planning his day. He usually ate his meals with Cerylea, unless he had meetings with Nysad or Eldin, and then they’d all eat together as they talked. But now things were different.

“I’ll eat something at my house, if that’s okay.” Nykin shifted from foot to foot, looking nervous. “I don’t know how to do this,”—he waved his hands around, encompassing the expanse of Ryneq’s bedroom—“or any of it.” He sat next to Ryneq and rested his head in his hands. “I don’t know what’s expected of me now we’re together. I don’t even know how I should address you.”

Ryneq didn’t answer him right away. He had the feeling this was a pivotal point in their relationship and whatever he said next had to be absolutely right. Yes, Nykin’s new position came with certain expectations, but Ryneq liked him just as he was. He didn’t need Nykin to change for him and didn’t want him to think he had to either. “You call me Sire or Your Highness when we’re out in public. Just like you did before.” Ryneq glanced sideways to see Nykin nod, his gaze firmly fixed on his boots.

“And when it’s just us?” Nykin asked, side-eyeing him with a smirk. “Can I still call you Sire?” His voice dropped lower on the word, and Ryneq swallowed thickly, imagining Nykin whispering it when they were naked in bed.

“Nykin,” Ryneq warned with a halfhearted glare. His pants were now uncomfortably tight, and he stood to relieve some of the pressure. Nykin’s soft laughter had him smiling, though, and he shook his head in exasperation. “I’m not sure Cerylea will be impressed if I turn up like this.” He gestured to the bulge in his pants, but Nykin looked unrepentant.

“Seriously, though,” Nykin added. “Are there things I should know or not do when we’re together?” He paused, and a look of horror passed over his face. “Can I still be a dragon rider? I just assumed… I….” His face was getting paler by the second.

“Nykin.” Ryneq’s voice was soft but firm. “Let’s get one thing clear. I don’t want you to change anything for me.” As usual, Nykin looked as though he was about to interrupt, but Ryneq shook his head and raised a hand to stop him. “I’ve never been too concerned with protocol, and I’m not going to start now. As long as I have your respect and your loyalty, which I will return in kind, then that’s all I ask.” Ryneq slid his hands along Nykin’s jaw and stroked his thumbs up over his prominent cheekbones. “And of course you’re still a dragon rider.”

He bent down to rest their foreheads together. “Even though you’re even more at risk now, being both a rider
and
my consort, I would never, ever ask you to give that up.”

Nykin let out a shaky breath. “Okay.”

Ryneq closed his eyes, taking a moment to calm himself before straightening back up. “Now, I’m already late for my meeting with Cerylea, so I really need to be going.”

“Yeah, okay.” Nykin rose, grunting as Ryneq dragged him in for a quick kiss. “Go, then.” He laughed against Ryneq’s mouth and shoved him away toward the door.

Ryneq took one last, lingering look at Nykin, and sighed. The day was going to be a long one.

T
HE
NEXT
week passed in a blur of activity. It only took Nykin a few hours to move his things into Ryneq’s quarters. He didn’t bring much from his house in the lower town, just his clothes, a few books, and the small wooden box that held his parents’ keepsakes. After that, he closed the doors on the place that had been his home for twenty-two years and never looked back. It took a surprisingly short amount of time for Ryneq’s rooms to feel like
their
rooms instead, and after a few teething problems the first few days, they fell into an easy rhythm.

They had breakfast with Cerylea most mornings, and Nykin was slowly getting used to talking to her about everyday things. They discussed the arrangements for his and Ryneq’s ceremony, and despite Nykin’s insistence that he would willingly go along with whatever Cerylea suggested, Nykin helped decide where it would take place and whom they should invite.

He spent the rest of his days in the Eyrie. He still wasn’t allowed to ride yet, but Fimor was more than happy to fly down to the landing caves and let Nykin rest against him while they talked.

“Ugh,” Nykin said, marching into the cave and waving his hands in the air. Fimor swung his head around to look at him, a small huff of amusement escaping him. Nykin’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Fimor. “It’s not funny.” He sank down onto the stone floor and let his head fall back against the warm scales of Fimor’s flank. “You should see what she wants me to wear!”

It was two days until the ceremony, and Nykin had escaped up to the Eyrie to avoid any more poking and prodding from the palace seamstress. The whole place was buzzing with excitement, and Nykin couldn’t stand it any longer.