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  Mayr kicked his boots against the wall, tempted to slap the wall for good measure. He was a fool, but he knew why.

  Giving into habit, he toyed with the locket and thread ring on the gold chain around his neck. He had been a husband once, his heart given to Betta for her safe keeping. Enamoured by her cheerful, addictive personality, he had loved her deeply. While his head spun with fanciful notions of a future together, Betta had feasted upon his desire, shackling him to her. They married when he was twenty, and she gave birth to their daughter, Iliane, months later, filling him with a joy that had no equal. Their family was worth everything he had to do to keep them happy. He gave them all he could, including his devotion and trust.

  In return, Betta smashed, burnt, and then crushed his heart into tiny flakes of hurt.

  One year after their wedding, he was less than divorced: he was told they had never been legally married to begin with. Their private marriage ceremony in the forest had meant nothing. The priest that presided over the ceremony had been a fake. Their relationship had been a sham, and Betta had sent Iliane away before running away herself, depriving Mayr of them both. On top of it all, there was the sad truth that Iliane was not his child by blood, but the daughter of Betta's lover.

  For all his commitment and honesty, Betta had never given him the same, not until recently.

  Betta may have apologized for everything, but it doesn't make it unhappen. It doesn't make me trust people any easier. Mayr slipped the chain over his head and cupped the gold locket in his palm. The only good thing to have come from their fake marriage was Iliane, the sweetest lie he had ever been told. When Betta had sent her away for reasons that still made no sense to him, he had never expected to see Iliane again.

  Tash's gentle intervention had changed their fate. Without spite, without shaming, Tash had reunited them, a family broken by selfishness and misguided youth. Betta was married and happy, steadfast in motherhood. Iliane was safe and loved, thriving with the attention and joy that were rightfully hers. Now twelve years old, Iliane had a heart large enough to love everyone and lived each day as though it would never end. Mayr was part of her life once more, welcome to love her as though he were still her father. Despite the fact she'll never consider herself my daughter.

  He hung the chain on one of the pegs screwed into the wall meant to keep jewelry safe whenever guards trained. Of all the things he owned, the locket and ring were the most invaluable. Betta had given him the locket with Iliane's image inside, a gift meant to convey apology more than words could.

  The ring, on the other hand, was innocence knotted into colourful bands. The purple, red, and gold threads were a token of Iliane's inner beauty and kindness. The circumstances in which she had given it to him still brought tears to his eyes. Not only had he done nothing to earn it, he had been a stranger to her.

  You're so much better than me, Ili. Don't ever lose that. Mayr kissed his fingertips and pressed them to the ring. He would see her again in a week, providing Betta kept her word.

  Right now, I need to keep my promise. After a slight twist on his black leather bracers and the tightening of his hair tie, Mayr spun on his heel and approached Tash. If Tash was going to fulfill his oath to protect Adren, they needed to ensure Tash was skilled enough. Tash may have held his own in the fight in Araveena Ford, but Mayr had to see it for himself.

  Stopped before him, Mayr cupped Tash's jaw and stroked his cheek with his thumb. His heart raced as Tash leaned into the touch with a sigh. He hated the idea of Tash fighting. Priesthood aside, Tash had worked hard to build a peaceful life after years of anger and harm. Returning to what he used to be was wrong, regardless of Tash's adamant decision to serve as Adren's guardian. Tash wanted a tranquil existence, a choice Mayr fully supported.

  I just want to take care of you. Mayr pressed flush against Tash, trapping the heat of their skin between them. I don't trust Ress or Adren. I definitely can't trust either of them to save you when you need it, but I can't force you to stay away from them. This is the only alternative I can think of that doesn't end up in you hating me.

  Gliding his hand through Tash's hair, Mayr drew Tash's lips to his and moaned at the familiar touch. The words he needed to say were impossible to voice. Even after what they had been through, he held back, wishing he could say everything with his body instead of words that could be thrown away. Tash was easy to kiss: his lips took and gave all at once, his tongue tasting without apology or demand. He read Mayr without words, replacing doubt with surety.

  Which is why I can't lose you—I can't go back to being used and thrown away. Mayr wrapped his arm around Tash's back and stole a second, quicker kiss. Close together, his skin was a darker tan than Tash's, and almost as scarred. Where Mayr's scars were from training and fighting, the burns and knife marks on Tash's chest were reminders of the Shar-denn, incurred during punishment for not upholding his duties.

  As Mayr's fingertips traveled over the old injuries, Tash curled his arm around Mayr's hip. The leather of Tash's bracer grazed Mayr's back, another foul reminder of the secrets Tash kept.

  You can't go back to how things were either. Never again, Mayr promised, burying his face in Tash's neck. He wanted to be the peace to Tash's wounded past. They needed to make new memories together and forge a happier future.

  Fingers danced up Mayr's spine as he nuzzled Tash's scruffy cheek, breathing in the scent of fire smoke and woodsy, resinous incense. He loved how the warm, earthy aroma was confused between spicy and sweet, clinging to Tash's skin and hair and lips. When that scent graced his bed, he savoured how his pillows and sheets smelled of ash and trees laced with sweat and sex. But when his bed lost those scents and all that remained was musty fabric, he loathed their absence. It reminded him of being alone.

  "You've been tending the sacred fire in the temple again," Mayr murmured.

  Tash's lips glided over the tattoos on Mayr's throat. His bottom lip trailed as he worked up Mayr's cheek and settled under his eye with a whisper of a kiss. "Someone has to make sure the flames stay lit."

  "And you're so good at that, keeping fires burning."

  "Especially in you."

  Mayr groaned. No, no, no. We can't do this right now. Someone has to be the grown-up here.

  In a cruel betrayal of his raging erection and Tash's noticeable arousal, Mayr nipped Tash's jaw. "Shove me."

  "What?"

  "Shove me. Punch me. Something. Otherwise this won't go anywhere but down to the floor with something that isn't training."

  "Something, hmm?" Tash grinned and stepped back. "We know how softly we love, soldier—" His features darkened with a sneer and growl. He gripped Mayr's cock and balls with a rough hand, squeezing until Mayr yelped and writhed. "Now show me how hard we fight." With both hands, he shoved Mayr.

  Stumbling back, Mayr cupped his hands over his aching groin. "That's not what I had in mind!"

  "Next time, be more specific." Tash raised his hands, beckoning Mayr to attack. "Now fight for it. Unless you want me to do it again—"

  Mayr charged forward and threw the first punch, his right fist aimed for Tash's jaw. The instant Tash blocked the strike with his forearm, pushing Mayr's arm outwards and grabbing his right shoulder, Mayr jerked his left knee up, expecting to connect with the fleshy area near Tash's groin. Payback's a—

  Tash pivoted and yanked Mayr's thigh. Fingers dug into Mayr's shoulder as Tash sent him to the floor.

  "A little distracted?" A smug smile teased Tash's lips. His hair cascaded around his face as he peered down.

  "Try testing your reflexes, ball breaker." Mayr snorted and stood. He cracked his neck and knuckles as though he had meant to be taken down. "Next time you grab me like that, it'd better be followed by sucking me off." Fists raised, he assumed a prepared stance, one foot on the thick white line of the innermost training ring. "Let's do this. I'm aching to smack that arrogance out of you."

  With a smirk, Tash mirrored Mayr's stance. "It took me a good smacking to get this ar
rogance to begin with." He crept around the white circle, hands raised. Mayr moved with him, watching for signs of his intention. "It's all the pretentiousness I've ever needed, courtesy of the Shar. Such a shame you don't appreciate it."

  Tash's right fist came for Mayr, aimed at his throat.

  Mayr slapped the punch away and rammed his left palm against Tash's chin. He held on, craning Tash's neck and forcing him back, his grip hard enough to make a point but light enough to avoid leaving bruises. "I wouldn't know why." He released Tash, only to elbow him in the stomach before shoving him with his shoulder. "You know they turn my cranks." As Tash stumbled back, Mayr readied himself for the next strike, one foot on the white ring. "Come on, show me how they like it."

  A frown was Tash's answer as he regained his posture. "Hard in the ring, hard in bed—that's how." Tash faked a punch with his right hand then slapped Mayr in the head with his left. "So hard you're bruised no matter whether you're coming or going." He spun away, his right arm ramming Mayr's ribs.

  Grunting at the contact, Mayr grabbed Tash's outstretched arm at the elbow and squeezed. He kneed Tash in the back and kicked him forward. Tash recovered quickly and charged at him. After ducking to avoid Mayr's slap, he stood and struck his forearm against Mayr's neck.

  Mayr choked and staggered as he rubbed his throat. The strike would leave a mark, he was certain. Tash had applied more force than he expected.

  "You're better than this," he thought he heard Tash say, the words muffled by Mayr's heavy breaths.

  When he blinked and realized Tash was coming for him, Mayr stepped back to receive the punch. He snatched Tash's wrists and pushed, spinning Tash around and kicking him away.

  Tash teetered, his hands out to catch himself. Once steady, he stood with his back to Mayr. "It's true, then: you're holding out," he said, almost too quiet to hear. He faced Mayr, his gaze heavy as he snickered. "The Shar's nowhere near as nice as you. It's a wonder your guards are any good. You're practically a den mother." Arms down, Tash strode towards Mayr, his curled lip making his derisive tone nastier. "So nice, so soft, so disgustingly pathetic, holding them close and petting them like precious little kittens—"

  Mayr crouched and hugged Tash around the knees. As he stood up, he yanked hard and flipped Tash onto his back. Tash yelped, his head narrowly missing the floor.

  Before he fell over, Mayr scrambled over Tash. He dropped onto Tash's hips and slammed his knees to the floor. Sharp pain burst through his knees, but Mayr ignored it, too focused on ramming Tash's wrists to the ground on either side of his head.

  "'Den mother' this," Mayr hissed, grinding into Tash. The more Tash struggled, the harder Mayr pinned him. He stole a suffocating kiss, thrusting deep as Tash moaned and returned the assault. Mouths crushed together, he sucked and toyed with Tash's tongue to silence the rest of the foul words in Tash's mouth. He would rob Tash of breath and offer his in its stead, claiming Tash and cleansing him of the Shar-denn's malice.

  They writhed together, fighting to breathe, until Mayr ended the torture, unable to withstand the gnawing in his lungs. He shuffled back to sit on Tash's thighs, avoiding contact with Tash's hardened cock. "Go ahead and den mother my ass, you haughty bastard."

  "Your beautiful ass," Tash murmured. "I'll do whatever you want to it."

  Mayr leaned over until his mouth hovered over Tash's. "Take all the hate they taught you and roll it into a ball," he said, his bottom lip grazing Tash's. "Then pound into me so hard you forget all of it. Everything they taught you, whatever they wanted you to be. Make love to me and forget them." He slid his lips over Tash's in a softer kiss. "They had your past, but give me your future. Be my future."

  Tash pressed his forehead to Mayr's. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to stay, mind, body, and soul."

  The words stabbed Mayr's heart and slashed open his conscience, inviting self-deprecating insults to fling themselves about. How easy the sentiment seemed to be for Tash. No hesitation, no uncertainty, nothing to suggest he was not serious.

  It would be so easy to ask him… so easy to give him a ring. Mayr drew his splayed hands down Tash's chest, his skin moistened with a light sweat. The longer he stared into Tash's eyes, the deeper he felt his future. Possibility whispered in the back of his mind, telling him to surrender his own past. He needed to run into Tash's arms, not stumble. He needed to believe Tash would never let him go.

  "Mayr," Tash admonished gently, "I trust you, but I need you to trust yourself and me."

  "I do."

  "No, you don't. You're relying on soft defense instead of challenging me with brutality." Tash's fingers slipped down Mayr's jaw. "You're merciless in training with experienced guards—I'm asking for the same. I won't break, I promise. I wasn't a weak fighter." A faint smile passed over his lips. "If I was, they'd never have let me protect a faction boss. They would've assigned me to a cache house or made me protect dead bodies. I proved myself in those days—this isn't any different."

  "You'll crack your head open." Mayr motioned angrily at the floor. "Or dislocate—"

  Tash caught Mayr's wrists. "Stop." He clutched Mayr's hands to his chest. "I know the risks. I've had my share of injuries. But I need this, and I need your help." Freeing one of Mayr's hands, he brushed a kiss over Mayr's knuckles. "I give you permission to go full strength. That's how I learned in the Shar-denn: they threw me into the ring and watched the blood fly. I had to learn how to smash down my opponent before they broke me. It's a part of me now."

  Mayr sucked in a breath. He whimpered his annoyance as Tash cupped his cheeks.

  "I need you to challenge me, not teach me," Tash said. "I need to fight your experience and sharpen my skills. Give yourself the permission to be you."

  It isn't an identity problem. It's me keeping you safe. It's me being the one you're safe with.

  Given all the people and things that could hurt Tash, Mayr wanted to protect the time they had together, safeguarding it from everything that could break them. He hated that Tash had to leave the village and travel to other places to fulfill his oaths as a priest. He despised every time they said goodbye, always afraid it would be for the last time.

  The fear and desperation were strongest when Tash attended a meeting of the Sacred Assembly or visited another village without Mayr. Although he did his best to accompany Tash on his journeys, Mayr still served Aeley first. There were times he could not trade one love and duty for the other, but he never let Tash go alone. On the trips Mayr missed, he sent at least four guards in his stead.

  It's not enough. Even when I'm with you, it's not adequate. Mayr traced his fingertip along Tash's hairline, captivated as Tash closed his eyes and settled his hands on Mayr's hips. They were both servants to duty, unable to let people down. They could not stay by each other's side every moment of every day. Just as Mayr had sworn to take care of Aeley, Tash had sworn to serve the people of Kattal. They led separate lives with responsibilities that originated from opposite directions.

  Then you come home and everything's all right. You fall asleep in my arms, and the world doesn't bother me as much. That's the real reason I agreed to Ress and Adren moving into the estate. It wasn't because I'm selfless or because of logic. It's because I wanted you back.

  Mayr frowned and stared at the floor past Tash's shoulder. For three weeks, Tash had stayed in the temple, insisting Mayr remain at the estate. They had spent little time together while Ress and Adren attended hearings before the High Council and began community service to fulfill the stipulations of amnesty. Tash had stayed in the temple to protect Adren; Mayr had stayed at the estate to protect Aeley and Lira.

  The time apart hurt Mayr more than the fight in Araveena Ford, particularly whenever he saw Tash's bruised face. Not being able to hold Tash had killed his patience.

  Though it's been dead for a while, let's be honest. This occasionally sleeping in separate beds and thinking of the temple as Tash's home isn't doing it for me. There's too much space between us. With Adren and Ress here…<
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  He could have a home with Tash.

  If I try harder, show him I'm serious. No more jokes. No more lies messing with my head. The past can't have us.

  "I'm giving myself the permission to be me," Mayr whispered. Fears were meant to be overcome. The past was meant to be conquered. To rise above them once and for all, he would prove Tash was worth the rest of his life.

  One week, he promised, getting up and helping Tash stand. I'll make your Uldana anniversary unforgettable if you give me one week. I'll prove I'll do anything for you… even if it means punching you in the face just to keep you safe.

  "We're clear, then?" One of Tash's brows arched. "No more holding back?"

  "Real clear." Mayr grinned and assumed a proper stance on the white ring before he punched the air. "Bring it, ball breaker. No more holding back."

  Chapter Two

  With every congratulatory word and sincere embrace, Tash's guilt tore into his conscience.

  It wasn't supposed to be like this. Today was supposed to be better. Tash swallowed back a scowl and picked up a silver platter of cheese from the table in front of him. He was where he wanted to be, surrounded by people he cared for, and he spent his days as a high-ranking priest in the Temple of the Four. It was the life he had fought for during his spiritual trials more than a year ago, wanting it bad enough to have given up almost everything. He should have felt nothing but joy and offered easy smiles, losing himself in the kind of laughter that pained his bruised ribs worse than Mayr's punches.

  Instead, he was a mess. Every smile was a challenge, every laugh halfhearted. What had been the warmth of pride filling him at dawn had twisted and withered, diving towards shame by dinner. All that remained was the ugly side of his humanity and a false happiness he was an expert at faking.

  Another lie meant to make everyone feel better. Meanwhile, all I want to do is to hide and yell and tear into my heart until it bleeds. Tash passed the platter to his left, letting go only when Aeley tugged on it. She returned his forced smile with a wink, the corners of her brown eyes crinkled as she grinned and fidgeted in her seat at the head of the table. Given the special occasion, she was dressed in finery befitting her roles as Tract Steward and hostess of the feast. Rather than her customary choice of pants and tunic, she had opted for a red and white gown with long sleeves, a low neckline, and a tight, white bodice laced up both sides. Someone had swept back her dark blonde hair with strands of white pearls on delicate gold chains, taming the long mass except for where it tumbled down her back.