Soulbound Page 6

  On his knees, he had thrown his humility at the twelve Councilmen, convinced it was the only way to save his brothers.

  It didn't save them, though. They turned Ress into an informant and ruined his life. They killed Varen. Now Nimae's disappeared. If he's out there, he's not all right, but if he's dead…

  After the night Ress had thrown the truth in his face, Tash found the courage to ask Councilman Severn and the bounty hunters what had happened to Varen in their custody.

  The truth made him sick.

  You killed yourself, Varen. You. Always so hopeful and full of life—you kept us going even when we were covered in blood and complaining about the stench. You were our beating heart, and you slit your throat faster than the hunters could slam you down.

  For days after learning the truth, Tash's stomach had refused to settle, losing everything he ate. Locked in an altar room in the temple for two days, he had prayed and cried until his eyes swelled and no tears remained. No one had successfully persuaded him to leave the room until Mayr intervened. With little force, Mayr had dragged Tash to the estate, made him drink broth, and enticed him to sleep.

  Tash stopped in the middle of the corridor. "Mayr," he whispered, clinging to its safety like a prayer. He needed something to hold onto before he lost himself. He needed his warm shadow.

  Turning back towards the ballroom, Tash shuffled over the spiral pattern in the floor, his thoughts focused on Mayr. When darkness takes me, you remind me who I am. I try to give you better, but sometimes it's hard not to beat myself down. I don't want to be a burden, just the strength you need. I want to leave the past behind completely and be your future.

  Except the past ignored the boundaries he set. Tash could not lock up his rage over Varen, Nimae, and Ress. Every time he saw Councilman Severn and Councilman Cota, he wished justice upon them. The High Council had not been honest. They had never informed Tash they had Varen in custody, nor had they disclosed his suicide. From the accounts of the guards in charge of Varen, Tash surmised they had purposely led Varen to believe he and Nimae would be executed or receive severe punishment if they did not cooperate.

  It took everything Tash had to empathize with the High Council. The guard in him wanted to rip bloody, gaping holes into the Councilmen in revenge; the priest in him imagined how they felt and justified their decisions. Neither he nor the Councilmen were morally superior. He tried to remain patient with them, showing who he really was.

  Tash rounded the last corner and crept towards the ballroom. Stopped on the furthest side of the entrance, he haunted the doorway while kitchen staff cleared away the food. Guests mingled around the table, but his gaze stayed on Mayr.

  In an instant, Tash's heavy emotions tangled into a chaotic ball and bounced away, replaced by an unrestrained lightness. Even dressed in black and armed with knives, Mayr was a brighter presence than all others. He had been since the first time they met. Brought together by a mutual lover, Sarene, Mayr and Tash had been strangers in a busy tavern, anticipating one night of delights followed by an amicable parting. Tash had never expected to forge a connection that went deeper than pleasure, weighted with familiarity and spiritual desperation.

  Soulbound, that's what the priests say we are. Spirits bound through memory and fate, transcending time and the voids between life and death—and we found each other. I finally got to say the words my soul needed to get out, like I'd been keeping them silent forever. Then there you were, vulnerable and broken like me, needing to hear those very words. Being with you feels like releasing a breath I'd never realized I was holding.

  Arms crossed, Tash leaned against the doorframe, a smile teasing his lips. The first time they met, he had wanted to forgo words and surrender himself. Sarene may have looked pretty, but it was Mayr who stole Tash's attention. With his hair out, his grey eyes focused and clear, Mayr had appeared beautifully masculine.

  The graces of the universe skipped over making you ruggedly handsome and opted for devastatingly gorgeous. Tash held back a giddy laugh. After their first kiss, he had been lost to Mayr. Their souls had recognized each other as crucial parts of themselves, drawing them into a dance with hope.

  He savoured that hope every moment they had together. Mayr's need to love and be loved emanated from him like an aura, haunted by a carefully guarded vulnerability Tash wanted to keep safe. He understood what most never stopped to consider: Mayr's jokes were defensive jabs; his harsh tone and toughness were warnings to ward off those who would harm him, because beneath was a tender soul that needed someone to care.

  And I do. I want us to have a life together, full and happy like you are with Iliane right now. I'd give anything to have that every day.

  Tash laughed as Mayr and Iliane stood at the end of the table and slapped each other's hands, giggling while they played. When the slaps stopped, Mayr held out his hands, palms down. Iliane raised hers beneath his, her palms upwards without touching his. They traded long, determined stares. Too fast to predict, Iliane tried to slap Mayr's fingers before he moved away. She succeeded every two or three attempts, smacking him hard.

  Tash suspected Mayr let her win those rounds, as intentional as Mayr's inability to catch Iliane's hands after they reversed positions. Competitive as Mayr could be, fatherhood was not about winning. His goal was to always make Iliane laugh and ensure she felt loved.

  The sight enthralled Tash. He had never wanted children, but seeing Mayr with Iliane changed him. Goddesses willing, they could have a family of their own.

  Assuming I don't run him off because I'm asking for too much. Tash backed away from the door and leaned against the wall. There's something coming—something that'll change what we have. Mayr's so quiet. He's trying not to say what's wrong, but he may as well be screaming it. Ever since Araveena he's avoided telling me the truth. It's only worsened in the last week. That day we sparred, there was something in his eyes… a choice I'll need to make.

  He wanted to stop worrying, but he had been fooled more than once, believing his relationships were solid until they became nightmares. Like the others Tash loved, Mayr would leave by his own volition or be repelled by Tash's constant meddling, especially if the Shar-denn intervened.

  It doesn't help I've pulled him into this business with Ress and Adren. Now he's got Council's target on his back. I never should've gotten him involved…

  If Tash's carelessness continued, he would lose everything.

  His heart meant well, but he still made all the wrong decisions. Matters were no better when he considered the days he struggled to balance his religious responsibilities with loving someone he was terrified to lose. Could they withstand his dedication being split down the middle? Mayr's attention was equally divided, caught between dealing with Tash while taking care of Aeley, Lira, and the other guards.

  It's not fair to expect him to keep living this way. He'll want out eventually. Soulbound or not, we might just be doomed.

  Tash bit down hard and glowered at the doorframe. No, he would not damn them that easily. Forget his self-pity and derision—he could not let them sully everything that made life worth living. Even a fraction of love was worth clawing the soul apart to get at the worthy bits hidden inside. Doubts were a powerful force, but so was determination. If doom wanted them, it would have to destroy the Realm of the Dead first.

  Chapter Three

  For better or for worse, Mayr would stick to his plan, no matter Tash's mood.

  Mayr slid his glance to Tash as they walked the dimly lit corridor. Once more, Tash's head was lowered, his gaze skimming the pattern of black stones among the grey. He said little, though the creases in his forehead worried Mayr more. Tash had been secretive and withdrawn all day, unwilling to discuss his Uldana anniversary. Dinner with their families had only made things worse.

  Misery was far from what Mayr had anticipated. He had relied on Tash being lighthearted and open to the rest of the night. Soured thoughts could ruin everything.

  That'd be unfortunate, consideri
ng. Mayr let out a slow breath. It'd also be heartbreaking and awful because I'm tripping all over myself to be what he needs.

  While he lacked the specifics about what was wrong, the list of possibilities was short, particularly given Tash's pained expression whenever he peered at his family or Ress. Since Ress and Adren had entered their lives, Tash fell into dark moods more and more. For Tash's sake, Mayr wished Tash would distance himself from them and anyone else who dredged up the past.

  All the more reason for us to be together—I can balance all of that. No ifs, no maybes, no I-could-tries. Nothing less than the commitment to take care of you, whatever it takes. Drifting towards Tash until their arms brushed, Mayr grasped Tash's hand and intertwined their fingers.

  Startled, Tash flashed Mayr a small smile, his eyes gleaming. At least Mayr had that much. A smile hinted at hope he could use.

  They turned down another hallway, their strides synced. Surrounded by the familiar silence of the estate at night while everyone was in bed save the night watch, Mayr's curiosity itched to hear Tash's voice. He wanted Tash to dump all of his pain and embrace a new word for what he was to Mayr—a single word that would change everything.

  Maybe I shouldn't do this now. Maybe I should get him to talk first. Mayr frowned at the conservatory doors at the end of the long hallway. The white glass in the two red wood doors was too opaque to see through, though a soft yellow glow emanated from the other side.

  He could stop them there, midway in the hall, or he could carry on. They could talk about Tash's misery or explore joy.

  You need this as much as you need that, he reasoned, glimpsing Tash's sagged shoulders. You need something good to hold onto. At least I hope it's good. Please tell me you've meant everything you've said. Let all those promises be real.

  The thought of any other possibility made him want to throw things.

  "You look like you're on a mission. Dare I ask where we're going?" Tash teased as he caressed Mayr's hand with his thumb. "Or is this last house check meant to lull me into submission before I'm devoured?"

  "Depends on how you feel about being devoured." Mayr grinned. "I like having something to swallow. Thick, hard, wet—it works for me."

  Tash's breath hitched, followed by a fit of coughs. A faint blush coloured his cheeks. "Slow or fast?" he asked huskily.

  "S-l-ow." Mayr stopped to sweep back Tash's veil, unable to resist trailing his lips over Tash's ear. "By morning, every part of you will have felt these lips," he murmured before sucking on Tash's earlobe. "Every moan, every whisper returned with tongue, teeth, and touch. All that'll be left is come and your exhausted remains."

  Breaths ragged, Tash clutched the back of Mayr's neck and groaned against his throat. "Take me away from all this," he whispered. "Make me forget."

  That was all the permission he needed. Mayr snapped up Tash's chin and claimed his mouth, crushing their lips in a kiss he felt all the way to his toes. His body raged like a fire, burning away doubt. He traded moans with Tash, the eager sounds echoed by greedy touches.

  They needed to ravish each other with the violence of their tongues. They needed to hold more than the fabric tightened between them. They needed to be skin on skin, sweat-slicked and gliding over each other, sliding in and out of their heat until they were spent.

  Hands cupped around Tash's face, Mayr pushed his lips to Tash's with every bit of ardor he could muster. Everything was in place. Everyone with a role in his plan had played their part. Even he had managed to slip away and tend to necessary details without Tash asking questions, including why Mayr smelled of soap and savoury oil.

  He needed to make his move.

  "Come on." Mayr spun on his heel and led Tash through the hall by the wrist. Stopping at the conservatory, he reached for the gold door handles.

  "Wait, what are you doing?" Tash eyed Mayr with a dazed look. "It's freezing in there."

  "It's been a mild day."

  "It's still winter. Cold, icy."

  "I have every confidence you'll keep me warm." Mayr turned the handle slowly, testing how long he could prolong Tash's horrified expression. Silent laughter toyed with his memories of their first time together in the conservatory. It was their hideaway to touch and worship among fragrant scents and the inspiration of life. No season would keep them from it.

  "Have you lost your mind?" Tash stepped back as Mayr pushed on the door. "It's been locked since the Feast of Taleyra."

  "Yes, and now it's not."

  "The gardener's the only one that goes in."

  "Not tonight." Mayr held out his hand. "Come in with me, even if it's just for a moment."

  The uncertainty on Tash's face deepened before he clasped Mayr's hand. "A moment."

  Mayr slipped inside and coaxed Tash with a gentle tug. A wall of warmth hit him, the air thick with a myriad of aromas, blending sweet flowers and woody leaves with scented wax. Quiet pops and hisses sounded from around the room. Before him, the white marble path and its silvery-blue veins appeared golden in the candlelight.

  Tash's grip tightened as he stopped. His shaky breaths cut through Mayr with all the sharpness of a scream.

  "I don't understand," Tash whispered. "How?" He glanced over the room. When he looked back, tears glistened in his eyes. "Why?"

  Mayr closed the door and wrapped his arm around Tash's waist. "Magic," he said against Tash's jaw, "for you."

  Moving behind Tash to embrace him, Mayr rested his chin on Tash's shoulder to survey the transformed room. In the spring and summer, the conservatory boasted flowers of various colours and glossy leaves with a multitude of hues, but in the winter, the garden beds were dominated by plants that thrived in the cold. Prickly bushes of rich purple branches and brown, tear-shaped nuts stood strong among the red-black shrubs of hard, coarse leaves striped with yellow. They towered over hardy flowers with ice-blue petals, black leaves speckled with silver spots, and dusky blue tendrils that crept onto the marble path. Winter vines coiled around anything they found, their deep blue limbs and rugged, mauve leaves anchored to the remnants of summer vines and thick, yellow stalks of plants that would bloom again in the spring. Where the gardens ended at the edges of the glass walls, vines grew upwards in tangles on wood lattices. White leaves lay scattered over the soil and paths.

  Unlike other days, the conservatory looked ethereal. Bushes that normally glistened with ice glimmered with drops of water from an imposed thaw. The colourless glass walls were not opaque due to snow and frost but from steam and heat. Throughout the room, white candles flickered. Small brass lanterns hung on the bushes on either side of the marble pathway. Around them, crystalline glass balls and silver ribbons hung from shrubs and vines staked upright. Strands of shimmering glass beads looped and twisted around the stalks and limbs, accompanied by chains of bright blue jewels that dangled from leaves and mimicked the creeping vines. A light layer of silver dust gave the soil a metallic sheen like delicate snowflakes.

  Even the pool of water in the centre of the room was adorned. The round enclosure of white and silver stones stood to Mayr's knees, filled with water warmed by Adren's magic. Candles floated on the surface amidst silver petals. Beside the pool lay a pile of thick blankets and colourful silk pillows. Gold, purple, and red fabrics beckoned, offering a comfortable space to love and be loved.

  Tash latched onto Mayr with trembling hands as if he never wanted to let go.

  Not bad for a week of conspiring, Mayr mused, smiling into Tash's shoulder. The ornaments had been the easiest to arrange, most of them from the collection used for the Feast of Taleyra. Each year for the feast, the conservatory was decorated and opened to guests as a reprieve from the festivities in the ballroom. Afterwards, the baubles were removed and the room left unlocked but closed tight to keep the cold air from the rest of the house. Sometimes Aeley or Lira visited the conservatory, bundled up in winter attire while they contemplated. Other than them and the occasional guard, only the gardener, Noa, entered in order to tend the plants and check for draf
ts and damage. There was no reliable and efficient heat source, particularly given the large space and extensive glass encasement. While other Grand Families experimented with ways to warm their conservatories, Aeley preferred to keep the winter garden as it was.

  Except for one night. Mayr buried his face in Tash's neck and breathed him in. For tonight it's warm, beautiful, and ours.

  "Ecstasy in glass," Tash whispered. "How?" He held out his hand and glanced upwards as though he expected rain to fall from the fogged ceiling.

  Slow and steady, Mayr glided his fingers down Tash's extended arm, lingering in the crook of Tash's elbow with circling caresses before continuing over his bracer. His touch dipped into Tash's palm, feather-light to the touch.

  "If you look hard enough, you'll see," Mayr answered.

  As Tash shivered and drew his arm back, Mayr laughed softly and twined their fingers. He lifted Tash's arm towards the wall to their right, gesturing to one of the water barrels. Inside the perimeter of the garden beds were water-filled troughs and buckets, all strategically placed.

  Mayr folded Tash's arm across his chest. "Adren tried all week to come up with something. Then ce came up with this, all elegant and perfect." He slid both of his hands up Tash's chest, over his shoulders, and stopped at Tash's neck. "Inside the barrels and troughs are rocks infused with Adren's magic. They're so hot they boil the water and let off steam," he murmured against the sensitive skin behind Tash's ear. "Even the pool has them. We're fine as long as we don't touch them." Brushing Tash's veil and hair aside, Mayr licked Tash's nape. "It won't last long. Adren says it takes less than half a day until everything goes cold. We should—"