“How did I—” Griffen shook his head, and his next words came out in an exaggerated polite tone that had Bastien bristling immediately. “Captain Loriot arrived on our doorstep looking for you. When you weren’t where they’d left you, he had the palace searched and found you’d borrowed horses. They hoped you’d decided to come home, though no one could figure out why you hadn’t been sensible and waited for your guards and a carriage. But you weren’t here, and you weren’t at Master Corentin’s rooms either when they checked. No one knew what happened to you, except that it seemed you left under your own free will—unless Master Corentin coerced you, which we couldn’t know for sure—and no one had any idea where to even begin looking for you.”
“I’m fine,” Bastien repeated, his spine straightening. He did not need lectures from Griffen. “Corentin and I had to…talk.”
“You had to talk,” Griffen said slowly, drawing out each word as if he didn’t quite understand its meaning. “And was there any reason you couldn’t have talked within the safety of the palace? Or even here after you’d been escorted back by guards?”
Corentin remained a silent, comforting presence, standing slightly behind Bastien. “We chose the location best suited to our conversation. It’s none of your affair.”
Griffen let out what might have been a bark of laughter if it wasn’t so bitter. “None of my affair. Well I hope it was a particularly important conversation to risk your life and leave all of us back here frantic with worry.”
“Our conversation is also none of your concern.”
“But your safety is!” The words burst out of Griffen at a near shout. He glanced up the stairs and then lowered his voice. “I am your brother. You were very nearly killed once tonight. You were injured—”
“It really wasn’t that bad,” Bastien interjected, but Griffen talked right over him.
“I don’t think it’s unfair to say that we all, as your family, might be worried about you, even more so when you disappear into the night without informing anyone of where you intend to go. Without taking any of the guards with you that Philip and Captain Loriot insisted you have for protection.”
How had Bastien ended up on the defensive? “I wasn’t alone. Corentin was with me the whole time. Nothing was going to happen.”
“You can’t know that.” Griffen slammed a fist against the bannister. He didn’t flinch, but it must have hurt. “What you did was entirely reckless and utterly stupid.”
Irritation at the scolding changed into something far more serious. “Griffen—”
“No, you say nothing. For years, you’ve lectured and yelled about the supposedly thoughtless and stupid things I do, about the lack of consideration you think I have for our family and my position and the future, and then you do this. Something I do believe is worse than any of the mistakes I’ve made. But of course I have no right to say any such thing, so you just keep doing whatever reckless thing comes into your head. Only you don’t get to say a word about anything I do anymore. Of course, if you get yourself killed, you won’t be able to anyway.” Griffen shook his head in obvious disgust and turned to climb the stairs. “Now that I know you’re all right, I’m going to bed.”
Bastien watched him go, no words making it past his shock. His stomach knotted unpleasantly. What had so extreme an outburst come from?
Corentin’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, and Bastien jerked. His face burned, and he closed his eyes. He’d forgotten Corentin was there for a moment.
“Are you all right?” Corentin asked, his voice soft and filled with compassion.
“Fine. I’m fine.” He opened his eyes and made an effort to smooth his expression before turning to Corentin. “I was going to offer you a drink, but it’s late, and I’m afraid I’m for bed. I’m sorry. Shall I call the carriage to take you home? I don’t want you walking so late.”
Corentin’s hand had fallen away when Bastien turned, but he brought it up again—not to Bastien’s shoulder but to his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. I said I wouldn’t let you out of my sight, didn’t I?”
“Oh.” Corentin had said that, hadn’t he? Bastien had forgotten, with everything that followed. He hadn’t really thought Corentin was serious either; it was just one of those pretty things people said. But Corentin had meant it, it seemed. Bastien had never invited Corentin to the house because he didn’t think it would be appropriate to have his lover spend the night in the home he shared with his younger siblings.
“We don’t have to share a bed, though obviously that’s my preference. I can sleep on the floor or a couch or in a chair. But I’m not leaving you alone tonight.”
There were guest chambers he could have readied for Corentin. He didn’t have to sleep on the floor. But maybe Bastien had been too rigid in his original thinking, or maybe his desire to have Corentin with him was stronger than anything else. “You’re not sleeping on the floor or in a chair or anywhere but with me. Do you want to send someone for some of your things?”
“I’ll be fine for tonight. Tomorrow I can retrieve whatever I need.”
It sounded as if Corentin intended to stay for some time, but Bastien let that pass for the moment. He was too tired and too shaky to think about it. “Come up to bed.”
They walked up the stairs and down the softly lit corridor together in a way that felt frighteningly right and normal. As if Corentin had been there every night before and would be there every night after. Or, at least, as if it could have been normal and everyday, not a special occurrence because someone had attacked Bastien. He put the feeling aside as too difficult to analyze at the moment.
As Bastien ushered Corentin into his sitting room and through to the bedchamber, he could feel the weight of Corentin’s regard, and he shivered as the intensity of it swept over his skin.
They took turns using the bathing room, and Bastien slipped into his dressing room to change into sleep clothes. Corentin slid naked between the neatly turned-down sheets of the bed. But of course he would be—he had no clothes at the house.
“Do you want to borrow something to sleep in?”
Corentin settled back against the pillows in the large bed. “No. I doubt they’d fit well.”
“Won’t you be cold?” The chill of autumn was in the air despite the snugness of the house. Did dragons get cold? Corentin always seemed so warm to the touch; was his Talent the reason?
“Not with you here beside me. Come to bed, Bastien.”
Corentin held out a hand, and Bastien didn’t hesitate, quickly dousing the bedchamber lights and walking across the room to take it. He let himself be drawn down onto the bed, under the covers, and against Corentin’s side. Corentin’s skin was blissfully warm, and Bastien didn’t realize until he touched it, how tense and cold he’d been. He practically melted into Corentin’s arms with a little sound that was almost a whimper. Corentin didn’t remark upon it, thank goodness, but pulled Bastien closer, cocooning them both in the soft blankets. Bastien sighed and snuggled closer. Being held this way felt almost exactly as it had earlier when Corentin had gathered him close with his wing: safe, protected, cared for.
After a while, Corentin spoke. “I have to admit that wasn’t what I expected to find when we arrived here. I knew people would worry when they discovered we were gone, and perhaps we shouldn’t have left as we did, but I didn’t expect your brother’s…anger as well.”
Bastien’s cheeks burned with an embarrassed flush again. It wasn’t right to air family business in front of others. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“I don’t care that I saw it, Bastien. I care how it affects you, especially after everything else that happened tonight.” Corentin’s fingers began combing through Bastien’s hair, the movement slow and soothing, matching the low, smooth tone of his voice.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you? It didn’t seem that way, and, frankly, I can’t imagine how you would be after the attack and the palace and everything I showed you.”
Bas
tien jerked his head up from Corentin’s shoulder, but only enough so he could see him. “Everything you showed me was a delight, a joy, and I’m honored that you trusted me with it. Thank you.”
Corentin looked into his eyes for a long moment and then drew him forward, meeting his lips in a soft, sweet kiss. Bastien sighed, melting into it. When the kiss ended, he tucked his head back in the curve of Corentin’s neck. A moment later, Corentin’s fingers resumed their movement in Bastien’s hair, and after a while, Bastien started speaking, the words flowing out of him almost without his conscious control.
“Griffen has never much liked how I try to care for our family and the earldom. He thinks I’m too strict or too serious. He doesn’t understand all it involves, all the responsibilities I have.” Bastien closed his eyes. “He can run about and flirt with whoever he wants and get sent home from diplomatic assignments and do as he pleases without thinking of the consequences. I don’t have that luxury. I must always think of our family before myself.”
“Do you ever think of yourself?” Corentin asked in a murmur.
Bastien pressed a kiss to Corentin’s throat. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”
“Yes, and I’m grateful for it,” Corentin said, and Bastien heard the smile in his deep voice. “What about before me?”
The sweet, soothing warmth of Corentin’s touch fought the tension his questions provoked within Bastien. “My family and the earldom are most important. I have to focus on them now that I hold the title.”
“I’m sure you do, and I’m sure you’ve been very good at it.” Corentin never stopped the slow movement of his fingers through Bastien’s hair and whispered the words as if they were confidences. “But I’d hate for you to forget yourself, who you are, and become nothing more than your title. I rather like the man I’ve gotten to know.”
Corentin nudged Bastien’s head up, and the conversation ended with deep, drugging kisses that only trailed off when Bastien slipped, exhausted, into sleep.
CORENTIN WOKE, WARM and cozy and tangled up with Bastien in the big, soft bed. He had no idea what time it was—no light snuck past the edges of the heavy velvet curtains at the windows—but it felt as if it had to be morning. He usually woke around the same time each day, which was far too early after such a late, eventful night. His body felt heavy, his thoughts sluggish, and he was so comfortable right where he was. There was no need for him to be at the university today; he should probably ask Bastien if he needed to wake at a particular time, but Bastien was sleeping peacefully. Surely if Bastien was needed, someone would wake them.
Corentin wrapped himself more firmly around Bastien, giving in to his need to hold him close, to protect, and letting go of the worry about what that fierce protectiveness might mean. With Bastien close against him, he slid back into sleep.
When he surfaced again, it seemed much later, though the room was still lit only by flickering firelight. The quiet spell he’d laid on it before he’d fallen asleep the first time had kept the fire going properly and the room comfortably warm as they slept. It was snug in the bed, and though he wasn’t as tired anymore, he was happy to drift and doze, something he seldom had the chance to do. Bastien, still curled around him, stirred and then moved closer, nuzzling his face into Corentin’s neck. Corentin chuckled softly.
“Hmm?” Bastien’s mumbled question was followed by a sleepy murmur Corentin couldn’t understand. He ran a hand down Bastien’s back, trying to soothe him back to sleep. But Bastien stirred again a moment later, more purposefully this time. He raised his head and blinked sleepy eyes at Corentin. And Corentin found that sleepy Bastien was adorable.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Corentin whispered. “You can go back to sleep.”
“It’s all right.” Bastien’s voice was still slurred. “Time is it?”
“No idea. But no one has come looking for us.”
“I should get up.” Bastien didn’t move, though. “There’s estate business to handle, and I should make sure my sister and brothers are all right. I need to know if Captain Loriot found out anything about who attacked me.”
Corentin wouldn’t mind hearing about that last one himself, but he didn’t like how Bastien was beginning to fret so soon after waking. Bastien took his position seriously, that Corentin understood, but he was beginning to wonder if Bastien was trying too hard to fill his father’s shoes and gripping everything a little too tightly. Griffen had been angry last night, and Corentin would bet that anger came from worry and a bit of resentment over the way Bastien tried to protect his family. But did Griffen see what Bastien tried to do?
“We’ll have to find out, but first, we have other concerns to deal with.” Corentin slid his arms more securely around Bastien, anchoring him to his body.
“Oh?” Bastien’s brow wrinkled in confusion, and suddenly he was adorable again. “What? Something else can’t have happened.”
“Last night, I believe we talked about what we would have done if we’d stayed in bed. We’re in bed now.”
“I don’t— Oh.” Bastien’s eyes widened and then immediately darkened with desire. Such beautiful eyes but always so tired and tense as well. Corentin wanted to make the tension disappear. Bastien’s lips curved in a slow smile. “Well, yes, I can see how that concern would be something we should address before anything else.”
“Good.”
Corentin lowered his lips to Bastien’s, dropping a succession of soft, quick kisses there. Bastien made a sound of combined pleasure and annoyance, and Corentin chuckled against his lips. Before Bastien could say anything, Corentin kissed him again, longer, deeper, and rolled Bastien under him. Bastien’s moan was muffled in the kiss, and he arched against Corentin, rubbing their bodies together. But Bastien had far too many clothes on.
Corentin broke the kiss to another inarticulate protest from Bastien. “It’s your own fault for sleeping in clothes.”
That surprised a laugh out of Bastien, and Corentin grinned fiercely as they worked to divest Bastien of his shirt and pants as quickly as possible. As soon as Bastien’s skin was bared, he pulled Corentin back to him, wrapping arms and legs around Corentin as if he didn’t want him to escape.
As if Corentin wanted to escape.
He gloried in the feel of Bastien’s firm body beneath his. Bastien was here with him—after he could have lost him to a murder attempt, after he could have scared him away by showing him what he truly was. It would be easy to drown in the sensations, in the heady combination of relief and pleasure. He kept kissing Bastien, deep kisses that had Bastien wriggling beneath him and clutching at his back and hair, as they writhed together, rubbing and thrusting against each other. When Corentin tore his mouth away it was only to bring his lips to Bastien’s neck, nipping and kissing as Bastien gasped and moaned and tilted his head to give Corentin better access.
“Like that, do you?” he murmured against Bastien’s skin.
“You know I do, you wretch,” Bastien ground out and tugged Corentin up again into another kiss, this one far more forceful with a scrape of teeth against Corentin’s lips. Corentin groaned and moved enough to get a hand between them and around both of their hard members.
“Yes,” Bastien gasped, the word felt as much as heard before Bastien took Corentin’s lips in another kiss.
They moved together even as their lips and tongues slid and tangled. Pleasure built with each movement of skin against skin, each kiss and nip and gasped out word, each moan and whimper. When the wave broke, Corentin was almost surprised by it, he’d been so focused on Bastien, so sunk into their shared pleasure. Bastien cried out beneath him, finding his own pleasure and clinging even tighter to Corentin.
They sank into each other, Bastien urging Corentin to rest against him. Corentin obeyed, lowering himself to lie half on Bastien, his head on Bastien’s shoulder. Bastien curled his arms loosely around Corentin and carded his fingers through Corentin’s hair. He hummed in the pleasure of the closeness and curled even closer, pressing a so
ft kiss to Bastien’s chest.
They lay that way for a long while. There were important things that required their attention, but Corentin needed this time with Bastien, needed to feel close and reassured, needed to make Bastien feel cherished and alive in Corentin’s arms. He wasn’t ready to let go of that, not quite yet, not until he knew they could both hold onto these feelings and carry them through what would come next, which would be filled with tension and fear once more.
AFTER BREAKFAST—WHICH was far closer to a time when Bastien would normally eat lunch—he went up to the palace again. Corentin had eaten with him in his sitting room and was there when the note from Philip arrived. Corentin wouldn’t be dissuaded from accompanying him—wouldn’t be dissuaded from keeping an eye on him, more like. It had been a long time since anyone had been so protective of him, and Bastien couldn’t say he disliked it.
In the end, Griffen joined them as well, his face set in stubborn lines. He’d apparently alerted Philip to Bastien’s arrival the night before, despite their argument, which irrationally irritated Bastien. But, even after a long sleep, Bastien wasn’t in the mood for another argument, so he said nothing except, “We’re going to Corentin’s rooms first so he can change.”
Griffen eyed them both speculatively but gave a sharp nod.
Two guards rode with them, first to the rooming house, where they waited outside after one escorted them up to Corentin’s rooms. Griffen trailed along after them without a word. Corentin left Bastien with Griffen in the sitting room while he slipped into his bedchamber and closed the door with only a raised eyebrow. Bastien stifled a sigh and turned to his brother.
Griffen glanced around the room and then took the few steps to the window. Studying him, Bastien tried to figure out what he was thinking and why he was along on this errand. Griffen could have met him and Corentin at the palace, but Griffen had insisted they go together. The decision puzzled Bastien, but then, Griffen’s outburst last night puzzled him as well.
Griffen looked at him over his shoulder. “What is it?”
The Dragon's Devotion (Chronicles of Tournai Book 5) Page 25
