Syn laughed at his teasing invitation. “You’re the only man who could say that to me and still keep his best friend attached to his body. You’re lucky I love you, Mari.”
“I know, brother.” Maris opened his battlesuit while Syn ran a bowl of water.
When Syn turned back to face him, he froze. His eyes widened in horror.
Maris started to cover himself then stopped. What was the use? Syn had already seen the horrendous scars that marred his flesh. Why cover up now?
“I had no idea,” Syn breathed.
Maris shrugged. “You don’t grow up gay in a fiercely heterosexual warrior culture without taking a lot of damage.” Not to mention his lovely stint as a political prisoner with their enemies for a full decade.
Thanks, Dad and League, for those atrocious nightmares
. “In spite of what my family says, I’m pretty sure they knew all along, and they went out of their way to beat it out of me.”
“Does Darling know?”
Maris shook his head. “I don’t get naked around Darling.” It was why he always kept himself covered from head to foot. Many times, he even wore gloves. Only his lovers had ever seen his body, and even then he kept the room as dark as possible so that no one knew the full weight of the shame he carried with him.
“If it makes you feel better, Nykyrian and I both have more scars than you do.”
And so did Darling.
He looked up at Syn. “For the record, Syn, it doesn’t make me feel better to know the people I love best have suffered even more than I have.
Really
doesn’t.”
Syn placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave a light squeeze. “And that’s why we love
you
, Mari.”
Maris didn’t respond as Syn started working on his numerous injuries. He did, however, grimace as the pain intensified. If only he could get to a tub of water...
Damn.
“You okay?” Syn asked, his voice tense with concern.
“I’m not going to die. Darling would never forgive me for it.”
Syn laughed. “Knowing him, he’d follow you into hell if you did and drag you back out.”
“And all of you would be right by his side, battling demons the whole way, in and out.”
“Yeah well...we’re stupid that way.”
Yes, they were. And that was why he was devoted to all of them.
Syn stood up and wiped his hands on a clean cloth. “Anything I can get for you?”
Maris shook his head. “Thanks, though.”
“You need me, buzz. I’m heading back to Zarya.”
Maris pulled his battlesuit back on as Syn left. Then he stood and returned to Ture’s side. He couldn’t imagine what the two of them had been put through because of his brother’s sadistic madness. Guilt stabbed him hard. He shouldn’t feel responsible for Kyr’s actions and yet he always had.
“I won’t let him hurt you anymore,” he whispered, brushing his hand through Ture’s hair. “I promise.”
* * *
T
ure came awake to the sensation of someone starting to pick him up. Thinking it was a League soldier, he opened his eyes, ready to fight, then relaxed as he met Maris’s dark gaze.
Maris released him instantly. “Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Ture smiled at Maris’s deep, pleasant accent. Sometimes he found it difficult to understand Maris’s words. Still, he adored the sound of his lilting cadence. “It’s okay. I’d much rather wake up to you than a League guard.”
“That’s not exactly a compliment since I’m rather sure the devil himself would be preferable to that.”
True.
Ture bit his lip as he realized that while he’d slept Maris had combed his hair and freshened up. Damn, he was exquisite.
“Maris? Would it be rude if I asked you where you’re from? I know from your accent that you’re not Caronese.”
“Not rude at all. I’m Phrixian.”
“Ah.”
Maris gave him a wicked, taunting grin. “You have no idea, do you?”
“Not a clue. In fact, if I had a starchart in front of me, I still wouldn’t know where to even start to look for it. I’ve heard of your people, but really know very little other than the name.”
“That is a personal choice.” Maris winked at him. “We don’t like or trust outsiders so we’re not real forthcoming with details about our people or territories.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “If you’re ready, we docked about ten minutes ago. Zarya wants you taken to the palace with her until Syn clears you, health wise. She said you don’t have anyone at home to watch over you.”
“I would argue, but she’s right.” The only person in his apartment was Anachelle, and he was taking care of her. She was in no shape to watch over him as he healed.
When he started to get up, Maris stopped him. He indicated the machine pole next to the bed. “You’re still attached, love.”
Syn reentered the room. “How’s he doing?”
“Not the doctor.”
Syn rolled his eyes at Ture over Maris’s words. “He always says that.”
Maris held his hands up in a very feminine and adorable gesture. “Hey, I respect expertise and when it comes to health, I know nothing. Especially not about other races.”
Without a word, Syn detached the bed from the wall so that it could be used as a stretcher. He put the fluid bag onto a smaller pole that was near Ture’s head. “You coming?” he asked Maris.
“Right behind you, precious.”
Ture felt awkward being wheeled into Darling’s palace. While he’d seen the royal abode thousands of times in his life and had toured the public governing sections as part of a school trip decades ago, he’d never dreamed of seeing the private areas.
They went in through a rear entrance, and toward an elevator. The staff turned to look at them, but no one said anything or stopped them. Syn took him upstairs to a room where servants were quickly preparing it.
Ture’s jaw dropped at the luxury. He’d never seen anything finer. The ceiling over his head held elaborate gold trim and was painted with a breathtaking celestial scene. It was like looking up at heaven.
The bed was larger than Ture’s entire bedroom...okay, a slight exaggeration. Still, it was giant. The bed held a navy blue canopy that was trimmed in gold and maroon— the royal Caronese colors.
The door opened.
Ture half expected it to be a guard telling them to get out. So when he saw Darling, the royal governor, coming into the room to check on him, he was stunned.
“How is he?”
Syn moved him to the bed. “Pretty busted up. Broken arm and shin. Severe hand trauma, but we should be able to get him up and running in a few weeks. I called in a friend of mine to do surgery on his hand. He should regain at least ninety percent usage.”
“Ninety?” Ture gasped.
“Sorry...you might have full recovery. I’m not an expert, which is why I’m calling in a favor from my friend who is. He’ll be able to give you a better prognosis than I can.”
Ture wanted to scream in aggravation. “How much will all of this cost me?”
“Nothing,” Darling said. “I’ll cover every bit of it.”
His offer offended Ture. “That’s not necessary.”
“You protected my wife. Zarya said she wouldn’t have made it through, but for you. I can’t do enough to repay you for that favor. You need
anything
, you let me know.”
Maris gasped in outrage of Darling’s words. Hands on hips, he sputtered at Darling before he spoke. “You married Lady Z without me? You beast! I’m so heartbroken. How could you? I was supposed to be her maid of honor.” He gave an adorable fake pout.
Closing the distance between them, Darling pulled Maris into a tight hug. “You were there in spirit. Besides it was so quick, we were married before we made it to my bedroom.”
Ture arched his brow. “You really weren’t kidding.”
Darling shook his head. “As I told Kyr, the priest was waiting inside the door and started the formalities the instant we entered. I came too close to losing her. Be damned if I’ll ever let that happen again.”
Ture was still amazed and stunned by the men in this room. That they were everything Zarya had promised him.
Darling kissed Maris’s cheek. “Let me know if either of you need anything at all. I’m heading back to Zarya to make sure she doesn’t lift anything heavier than a spoon.”
Maris laughed. “Good luck with that.”
Darling gave a heavy sigh. “I know, right?” Then he left them alone.
“I’m going to get cleaned up and will be back in a few.” Maris went to a separate door than the one Darling had used. Rather this one was in the middle of the wall and led to a connecting bedroom.
Ture wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or insulted that Maris’s bedroom connected to his. Did Maris think him some whore to be kept like a pet?
Syn tucked the covers in around him, and then checked his fluids. “Sorry about to confidentiality breach. But—”
“Darling is technically
the
government. Not like he couldn’t have found out anyway.”
“There is that.” Syn made sure he was comfortable and rechecked all the bandages and medication. Then, he handed Ture a buzzer. “Should you need anything, press that.”
“Thank you.”
Syn gave a curt nod before he left the room.
Alone, Ture wasn’t sure what to make of all this. In all honesty, it scared him. People weren’t kind as a rule, and they were cruel to him in particular.
That
he expected.
Even though he appeared to be safe, there was a part of him waiting for this to be some kind of sick joke. He wouldn’t put anything past an emperor who’d ascended the throne by viciously assassinating his uncle, and one whose last name was Cruel.
CHAPTER 2
T
ure woke up at the sound of a light knock. “Enter.”
Dressed in brown pants and a bright green leather jacket, Maris came into the room carrying a tray in his hands. The instant he stepped inside, the lights turned on to a dim glow. He moved to set it down on the table by the bed. “I know Syn has you hooked up, but thought you might like something tasty to eat and drink.”
Ture ground his teeth as he pushed himself up. He was still in a great deal of pain. “Thank you. How long have I slept?”
“Two days.”
Ture gasped. With the heavy drapes closed, he couldn’t tell if it was day or night outside. “What time is it?”
“Early evening.”
He couldn’t believe it. “I had no idea.”
Maris poured him a cup of hot chocolate then added a bit of cream. “Don’t worry. Syn, Darling, Zarya and I both have been checking in from time to time to make sure you were all right.”
Ture took the cup from his hands. “That’s actually disturbing to know all of you have been in here and I haven’t been the wiser.”
Maris gave him a devilish grin. “Did you know that you are absolutely gorgeous when you sleep? And you have the lightest little snore. It’s actually quite adorable.”
Heat crept over his face as those dark eyes teased him with humor. No matter how you cut it, Maris was the sexiest man he’d ever seen. There was so much magnetism to him.
Such an intriguing blend of boyish charm and lethal predator. Most of the time, Maris was relaxed and exuberant. Yet even so, he was always searching with his gaze as if to reassure himself that no assassin had crept in. And he definitely had a warrior’s lope.
Head down, gaze intent.
Something Ture’s body reacted to with an embarrassing intensity. Lifting his knee slightly to disguise his interest, Ture cleared his throat. “So what food did you bring?”
“An assortment of sandwiches. Since I didn’t know what you liked, I thought it the best compromise.” Maris pulled the silver lid from the plate and held it out to Ture.
A shudder went through Ture as he accidentally brushed his hand against Maris’s. He refused to let Maris know how aroused he was at his mere presence. No good could come of that. “This is more than I can eat. Would you like to share?”
Maris wrinkled his nose playfully. “Sugar, I never pass on food. My mother used to say that I came out of her starving, and practically assaulted the doctor who delivered me to get a bottle from him.”
“Really?”
Maris nodded as he daintily picked up one of the small sandwiches and took a bite.
The way Maris savored the food made Ture smile. “You do know what I do for a living, don’t you?”
“Not a clue. Zarya never told me.”
Ture swallowed his bite. “I’m a chef.”
He arched an intrigued brow. “Seriously?”
Ture nodded.
His dark eyes danced with happiness as he slid onto the bed beside Ture. “Ooo, sugar...wherever do you work?”
“Angericos on Fifth, downtown.”
Maris gasped. “That’s
you
? I love that place. Eat there all the time...at least when I can get a reservation. Your restaurant is always booked. Even Darling has trouble getting in.”
Ture blushed at the compliments. “I try my best not to suck at my job.”
“Baby, you succeed admirably.” Maris reached for a napkin as the door opened to admit Syn.
He pulled up short at the sight of them together. Then he narrowed a grimace at Maris. “Did you wake him?”
“If I say yes, will you spank me?”
Syn rolled his eyes. “You are terrible, Mari.”
Maris scooted off the bed to make room for Syn to check Ture’s vitals. “Can’t help it. I had too many brothers to annoy. Now it’s just hardwired into me to be a major bitch.”
Ture frowned. He knew one of Maris’s brothers much better than he wanted to. “How many brothers do you have?”
“Eight. Would you like one? I’ve been trying to give a couple of them away for years now.”
He ignored the question. “Any sisters?”
“No. The gods decided not to be so cruel as to throw a girl into that den of testosterone. Then again, maybe they did.
I
was born into it, after all.”
Unsure as to what to say to that, Ture met Syn’s dark gaze. “How about you?”
“I had a sister. She died a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry, Syn. I lost mine, too, when I was a teen. I still miss her.”
Syn patted his shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss, too.”
Awkward silence filled the room until Syn finished his review. “You’re making good progress. Tomorrow, we need to get you up and moving. I’ll schedule a physical therapist for the afternoon. And my surgeon friend will be by day after tomorrow to look over your hand. I’ve already sent him the scans. He thinks you’ll have a full recovery.”
Ture felt a rush of excitement at those words. “Thank you, Syn. Seriously.”
“No problem. Now you two stay out of trouble and rest for tonight.” He turned toward Maris. “And that means you, Mari. I know you haven’t slept for two days and you’re still healing, too.”
Maris gave him a very sarcastic military salute.
Syn ignored it and left them.
“You haven’t slept?”
Maris looked away. He started not to answer— that was his standard mode of operation around others— but for some reason the truth came out before he could stop it. “I don’t sleep well on my best days. And battle always brings out the worst in me.”
“How so?”
Memories surged with a vicious bite as he relived battles he wished to the gods he’d never fought. It was hard knowing the beast that lived inside him— knowing what he was capable of when pushed into a corner. Nothing made him sicker than some of the things war and his family had forced him to do in his past. “Have you ever killed anyone?”
Ture shook his head.
“It’s not like you see in movies or programs. It’s gory and scary. Disgusting and horrifying. Seeing the look on their faces and in their eyes that moment when they realize their life is over. . . . And every time you send someone to their grave, a part of you goes with them.”
“Then why do you do it?”
Maris felt his throat tighten. “I stopped fighting for myself a long time ago. But as much as I despise killing, I hate losing someone I love a lot more. How, with all my training and skills, can I stand back and let the ones I love most risk or lose their lives and do nothing for them?”
Ture nodded sympathetically. “I get it. So how old were you the first time you killed someone?”
Maris flinched at the horror of
that
nightmare. “Seventeen.”
Ture gaped at the age. “You were a child.”
“Not on Phrixus. I was in my second year of obligatory military service.”
“It was a battle then?”
He shook his head. “Phrixians are not like other races. We have a very screwed up system of government. And one of the things that greatly differentiates us from others— we have no police force.”
“I don’t understand. Who enforces the law?”
“The citizens. My people believe that if you can’t defend yourself and those who fall under your protection, then we don’t need your DNA in our gene pool. We take survival of the fittest to its extreme. But that being said, we mostly leave each other alone because we know how highly trained and armed everyone is. The only time someone is attacked is when they’re seen as weak.”
Ture scowled as he tried to understand the terrifying world Maris described. “You were attacked?”
“My younger brother. I was late picking him up for my father.”
Ture winced at the pain he heard in Maris’s voice. “Thank the gods you were there.”
Maris let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, but that was the reason he was attacked in the first place.”
“You’ve lost me again.”
There was so much agony in those dark eyes that it made Ture’s tear up for him. “They thought my brother was me since they’d been told that was where I’d be at that designated time. Had I been on time, my brother wouldn’t have been beat to a pulp.”
His jaw went slack. It would be hard enough to have your brother attacked. To then find out it was supposed to be you . . . How awful. “Why did they go after you?”
“Swabbing the gene pool.” Maris looked away as he remembered the laughter and mockery that had been shoved down his throat.
“You’re a pathetic waste. I should have cut out your heart when you were born, instead of wasting family resources on you.”
Maris could still see the hatred in his father’s eyes as he’d sneered that at him.
He met Ture’s gaze and tried to keep the bitterness from his voice. “It’d gotten out that I’d had trouble sustaining an erection in a whorehouse with a woman. And such a thing is considered shameful and considered a grave mark against my family and their honor.”
“You’re kidding.”
Maris shook his head. “Erectile dysfunction is deemed a capital offense in our empire.”
Ture was appalled by what he described. “They would really kill someone for that?”
Maris nodded. “By the time I arrived, my little brother was barely alive from their vicious assault. The fury inside me was terrifying. And I unleashed every ounce of it onto the three hulking men who were standing over him. I didn’t even realize what I’d done until they were in pieces on the ground and I was vomiting against the wall.”
Ture took his hand into his and held it tight. “I am so sorry. I can’t believe anyone would do such a thing for such a stupid reason. Who sent them after you?”
My father.
Maris tightened his hand around Ture’s as the answer echoed in his head. To this day, he couldn’t bring himself to say that out loud. It was something he’d never told a single soul.
Not even Darling.
The saddest part? His father had bragged about it to Maris when he’d returned home, carrying an almost dead Safir in his arms.
A smile had spread across his father’s face as he saw them.
“I’ve never been prouder of you, boy. Here we all thought we’d be burying a defective woman in an unmarked grave tonight. Instead, you’ve come home redeemed and wearing the blood of three of my best soldiers. Good job, Maris. You’ve restored our honor.”
It was the only time in his life his father had praised him. But what had sickened him even more was the fact that his father hadn’t cared that he put Safir in danger. Barely more than a child, Safir was considered collateral damage to their father and family.
Just like him.
Sighing, he did his best to bury that memory. “It doesn’t matter. Three men were dead over something ridiculous.”
Ture pulled him into his arms and held him. “I’m sorry, Mari. But I’m glad you’re still here.”
Maris patted him on the back. “Some days, I am, too.” Closing his eyes, he breathed in the scent of Ture’s warm body. He might have gone soft on the female whore who’d ratted him out to his father, but that was definitely not his problem right now.
Ture set him on fire.
And all that did was remind him why his body was rife with such demanding need. He hadn’t been with anyone in over two years. First had been his need to find Darling after the Caronese Resistance had taken him captive. Nothing else had mattered during the months they’d searched. And sex had been the last thing on his mind. Then, Darling had been found in a condition that made both Ture’s and Zarya’s combined look like a picnic. The torture and humiliation Darling had suffered at the hands of people who’d been his allies had left him psychotic.
Maris had been so occupied with saving Darling’s life and sanity that he’d forgone any other need. Besides, it didn’t matter. He was in love with Darling and while he might have relationships with other men, they always left him feeling hollow.
Those men weren’t Darling.
Yet as he held Ture, that old need to be in love with someone who could physically love him back surged. Just once in his life, he wanted to go to bed with someone whose happiness meant more to him than his own. He would give anything if he could feel toward a lover one tenth of what he felt for Darling.
Just for one heartbeat.
But it wasn’t meant to be.
He’d accepted that a long time ago. Darling would always be heterosexual. Nothing would ever change that, and his best friend would die before sleeping with him.
Why can’t I walk away from Darling?
Honestly, he’d tried. He’d gone from one man to another, hoping, aching that one of them would find a way into his jaded heart.
And every one of them had disappointed him, and left him with scars that were deeper and uglier than the ones marring his body.
But as he breathed Ture in, that part of him that he hated most surged forward. Hope was a fickle whore, and he hated the fact that he was her bitch.
You’ve walked this path a million times, Mari
.
Only Darling was Darling. Everyone else was a poor substitution.
Clenching his teeth against the wave of pain, Maris pulled back and got up. He wouldn’t mourn something he couldn’t change. Forget hope.
He was, and would forever be, Darling’s bitch.
Ture scowled as he watched Maris clean up the food he’d brought. There was a darkness to him now that Ture didn’t understand. A thick wall of sadness.
Zarya’s stories of Maris went through his head. Like him, Zarya didn’t trust easily. She was extremely suspicious and cautious.
Yet Maris had won her over with little effort. She idolized this man. Originally, Ture had dismissed all her stories as hero worship and delusions. He’d never dreamed that a man like Maris actually existed.
A king among princes.
Someone who wouldn’t hesitate to protect what he loved. A man capable of putting the needs of others above his own. Such beasts were as rare as the fabled iksen that was said to only come out of its cave once every thousand years.
Now that Ture had found one, he wanted to hold on to it for awhile. But even as that thought went through him, he knew the truth.
Love never lasted. People betrayed. And lovers inevitably disappointed each other.
What if they didn’t?