Heart of Winter (The Drake Chronicles Book 1)
Page 33
Oliver let the words wash over him. Tried to absorb them. “What?”
Erik sighed, thumb smoothing back and forth across Oliver’s belt buckle. “By marking you out as special to me, I confirmed what the Waste clans are apparently all thinking and whispering about: that I am, quite literally, in bed with the South.”
Oliver threw a glance toward the rumpled sheets. “Last I checked, it was just you and me in bed together. I didn’t notice the whole rest of the South last night.”
Erik flicked another smile. “I know, but that’s how they see it. Probably some of my own people see it that way as well.”
“But I’m only a bastard,” Oliver said, weakly.
Erik gave his belt a tug, expression firming. “You are mine. And I will not have it said that you are anything less than the highly-esteemed, brilliant, beautiful object of my deepest affection.”
All the air left Oliver’s lungs. “Oh,” he whispered, swaying forward a half-step, so that he stood between Erik’s parted knees.
“I won’t pretend that it isn’t dangerous, and I wish I could spare you such a long, cold trip,” Erik said with obvious regret. “But I fear Ragnar is right: we have to prove that you are not some Southern agent come to whisper in my ear. We have to prove that, whatever my dealings with Drakewell, I am still loyal, above all, to the North and its people.”
Deepest affection. The wild, brilliant thing was that Oliver could see that – could see it shining in his blue eyes. He would have agreed to anything in that moment, he thought, and so it was easy to say, “I understand.”
“You do?”
“Of course I do. I can’t very well ask you to defend my homeland with your armies if I’m not willing to defend your honor with my presence now, can I?” He offered a smile.
One Erik returned with one of his own, equal parts soft and concerned. He shook his head, fractionally. “Still, I would ask your forgiveness. I’ve been rash – foolish. No better than my idiot nephews.”
Oh, sweetheart, Oliver thought, chest squeezing. He rasped his thumb along Erik’s short beard. “No. You’ve been a prince. A king, actually” – that earned a widening of Erik’s smile – “and – barring one or two regrettable moments of buffoonery” – that earned a chuckle – “I couldn’t have asked for a more gracious host. Or a better friend.”
“Friend is an interesting word for it,” Erik drawled, but the softness of his gaze told Oliver that he understood – that there was friendship between them, along with the more heated desires and emotions.
“I’ve never had a friend,” Oliver admitted, too honest, a sudden lump forming in his throat. “Not ever. Not until I came here.”
The hand at his belt shifted to his waist, squeezing. “You have them now.”
“I know. And I am – so grateful for that.” Oliver left off petting Erik’s hair so he could frame his strong jaw in both palms. “I’m coming to the festival with you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that I’m on your side – on your people’s side. And Rune will get better, and Leif will be duke, and you’ll be stupid with summer wines and silks, then, what with all the free trade.” He knew his attempted smile wobbled with emotion, but he didn’t feel like he had to hide that. “Now. Will you do me a favor?”
“Anything,” came the immediate answer.
“Will you be honest when I ask you how you’re doing right now?”
Erik lifted a brow.
“You’ve just killed a man.”
“I’ve killed lots of men,” he said, winding both arms around Oliver’s waist and pulling him down to straddle his lap. He glanced toward the fire, while Oliver continued to stroke his beard. Quietly: “It’s easier in battle, though. Executions are…intimate.”
Oliver shivered, and turned Erik’s face back toward himself so he could look into his eyes, full of so many things, least of all regret.
“I didn’t want to have to do that,” Erik admitted.
“I know.” Oliver kissed his forehead. “You can always tell me that sort of thing, you know. You don’t have to be the king when you’re alone with me. You can just be you.”
Erik hummed a noncommittal response; then tangled a hand in Oliver’s hair and brought their mouths together for a kiss. Slow and soft and aimless. It felt like seeking comfort.
After, Erik rested their foreheads together. His breath was warm across Oliver’s lips, his arms tight around his waist, his warmth bleeding slowly into Oliver’s body in every place they touched.
A log shifted in the grate.
The muted sounds of a busy palace drifted up from below.
But here now, it was only them, and this peace they’d found, impossibly, against all odds, in one another.
“Three days?” Oliver asked.
“Three days.”
Oliver took a deep breath. “I’ll be ready.”
“And you won’t be alone,” Erik assured. “Not again.”
A trip awaited them, political maneuvering. There was a marriage contract to write, lords to charm; the Sels still occupied the Crownlands, and Rune lay now fighting for his life. So much was uncertain.
But here now, with the fire crackling, holding one another, Oliver felt – for the very first time – not like a bastard, or a disgrace, or a sickly disappointment…but like someone who was wanted. And maybe, he thought, with the faintest stirring of hope, he’d finally found the place where he belonged.
THE END
~*~
To be continued…
Look for The Drake Chronicles Book Two:
Edge of the Wild
Coming Soon
About the Author:
Lauren Gilley is the author of over twenty novels, including the Dartmoor Series, and her Sons of Rome paranormal fantasy saga. She writes contemporary and historical novels with a focus on found family and surviving tough odds. She blogs, sometimes, at hoofprintpress.blogspot.com, and accepts emails at authorlaurengilley@gmail.com. When she’s not writing, she’s mucking horse stalls, or walking her giant dog.
You can also find her on:
Instagram: @hppress
Twitter: @lauren_gilley
Facebook: “Lauren Gilley – Author”
Other Titles by Lauren Gilley:
The Dartmoor/Lean Dogs Legacy Series (in reading order):
Fearless
Price of Angels
Half My Blood
The Skeleton King
Secondhand Smoke
Snow In Texas
Tastes Like Candy
Loverboy
American Hellhound
Shaman
Prodigal Son
Lone Star
Homecoming
The Sons of Rome Series
White Wolf
Red Rooster
Dragon Slayer
Golden Eagle
Lionheart (coming soon)
The Russell Series
Made for Breaking
God Love Her
Keeping Bad Company
The Walker Series
Keep You
Dream of You
Better Than You
Fix You
Rosewood
Standalones
Whatever Remains
Walking Wounded
Shelter