The Seer Rowan McAllister (top inspirational books .TXT) 📖

His gaze locked on Daks’s sleeping form as he tried to control his breathing. The man appeared to still be asleep, oblivious to anything wrong. Should he take that as a sign his Dream hadn’t been that “loud” and he was panicking for nothing, or that Daks was just a sound sleeper?

As he stared at the man, his pulse and breathing slowed. He couldn’t fathom why, but Daks’s mere presence had a calming effect on him. It made no sense. The man was infuriating and as impulsive as a toddler in a sweets shop. But Ravi could feel the tension leaching from his shoulders and chest as the seconds ticked past and Daks’s chest rose and fell in a slow, even rhythm. He looked warm and solid, close enough Ravi could touch him if he just reached out.

What kind of lover would Daks be? How would those big, hard hands feel on Ravi’s skin? Would all that infuriating bravado and overconfidence translate to something dominant and hot between the bed linens?

Ravi’s body tingled as memories of that other Vision flooded his mind, pictures of himself naked on his back, looking up at an equally naked Daks hovering over him, his cocky smile gentled somehow, his dark blue eyes filled with tenderness.

Ravi threw his blankets off the rest of the way and climbed to his feet before stomping out of the barn to relieve himself. The thought of lying with that man was utterly ridiculous, a pathetic fantasy because he was lonely and scared. Vision or no Vision, he’d prove to the gods he was the master of his own fate. Besides, he’d have plenty of better options to choose from once he reached Samebar. He’d been propositioned enough on the streets of Arcadia to know he was at least moderately attractive to both men and women. He didn’t have to settle for a rogue and a lunatic, even if the memory of being pressed against that hard body made his stomach flutter and his skin flush with warmth. There would be plenty of other hard bodies in Samebar to choose from—hard bodies that weren’t attached to that irritating mouth.

Disrobing enough to relieve himself in the chill morning air helped cool any lingering heat. And by the time he returned to the barn, Daks was awake and sitting up, blinking groggily at him. His bushy hair had dried into an oddly misshapen halo about his head.

“What now?” Ravi asked crisply so he didn’t have to acknowledge that a sleepy Daks might just be a tiny bit endearing.

Daks grimaced and sighed as he pushed his blankets off and climbed to his feet. “Breakfast, I hope,” he answered, his voice still rough with sleep.

“And after? Did you even discuss a plan yet?”

“Yes, we ‘discussed a plan,’” he bit back, giving Ravi a grumpy glare. “Can I take a piss first before I lay it out for you, or do I need to hold it?”

He was moving toward the door to the barn as he spoke, so Ravi assumed he wasn’t expecting an answer.

A short time later, Daks poked his head through the door again and called, “I’m going to the house to see what’s on for breakfast and if they have any blessed caffe’. I’ll bring back what I find. Stay hidden, in case the farmworkers start showing up.”

He didn’t linger long enough for Ravi to give a reply, which was just as well. The promise of something hot to eat and drink was enough of a distraction, and Daks was obviously not a morning person.

Ravi moved to their makeshift beds and began shaking out and folding up the blankets. He collected their empty mugs and the oil lamp and set them near the opening of the barn before moving back to a straw bale in a shadowed corner to wait, wrapping his borrowed cloak tightly around him and pulling up the hood.

When Daks returned with a steaming mug and a bowl of some kind of porridge smothered in butter and dried fruits, any grumpiness on Ravi’s part was completely forgotten. He tried to go a little slower with this meal than the one last night, hoping to forgo the slight stomachache he’d experienced after gorging himself, but it was a challenge. Two hearty, delicious meals in a row, without having to worry if he was taking too much away from the little ones or feeling guilty for not sharing, was a luxury he hadn’t had in years.

A small lump of porridge dripped from his spoon onto the cloak and he winced, setting the bowl aside to wipe at the mess.

“Are my clothes ready?” he asked, hoping he hadn’t left a grease stain on the good wool.

“They’re packed,” Daks answered around a mouthful of porridge. “The family are filling our bags with supplies as we speak. They rose early so we could be on our way before the workers show up after morning bell.”

“Packed?” Ravi asked, momentarily forgetting the rest of his porridge.

“Yes. We’ve decided it’s too risky to attempt a crossing here. Not only could we run afoul of the brothers midcrossing, but questions will be asked of everyone in the village even if we aren’t caught. It’ll be safer for everyone if we go farther north.”

“You said that last time,” Ravi pointed out dryly as his chest tightened with worry.

Daks sighed and rested his bowl in his lap. “I know. According to Vasin, extra soldiers have been sent to villages all the way up the river, and any strangers are highly scrutinized. Our best bet is to swing away from the King’s Road and travel narrower byways through the marshes, avoiding towns and only returning to the Matna when we’re close to Traget. If all the rumors are true, which Vasin seems to think they are, and the Thirty-Six are afraid to go any closer to this supposed wizard and his band of barbarians and possible rogue brother up north, we