In Deeper Waters F.T. Lukens (acx book reading txt) 📖

as he was to slide out from the crush of Athlen’s body on the pillar, he did. He tugged Athlen back into the castle, flushed and aching, and the seconds they were not kissing were agony. Once at his chamber, Tal guided Athlen inside and then locked the door behind them.

Tal stretched in the warm sheets. He was on the edge of sleep, in the heavy intermediate space where he could drop back into the comforting depths of slumber or allow his eyes to flutter open and wake. It was a blissful place, a moment to laze in the coziness of the bed and the warmth of another’s body next to him, with the ability to acknowledge and appreciate the sensations.

He didn’t know the time, only that it was early in the morning. He could faintly hear the roar of the sea below his windows and the sound of the birds combing the beaches. With the shades and curtains drawn, the sun couldn’t pierce the inner room of his chambers, but Tal was rested well enough to know they’d spent the entire day together, then slept through the night. Soon servants would knock on his door and summon them to start the tasks of the day.

Athlen shifted next to him, his preternatural body cool against Tal’s skin, in contrast to the fire that thrummed through Tal’s veins, a pulse of magic as innate as the rhythm of blood.

He grumbled something under his breath, and Tal huffed a laugh, draping his arm around Athlen’s ribs and pulling him close. Tal buried his face between Athlen’s shoulder blades, palm flat over Athlen’s heart, fingers splayed along the gentle curve of his collarbone.

“Quit moving,” he said, voice muffled in the pillow and Athlen’s skin, words slurred with sleep. This—this was perfect, and Tal wanted to give in to the tug of dreams and rest, pressed along the length of Athlen’s body.

Athlen threaded his fingers though Tal’s. “Are you awake?”

“No.”

Athlen’s body shook. “Are you dreaming, then?”

Tal sighed. “It’s a good dream.”

“I’m sorry to ruin it.” Athlen’s voice was strained. His body shuddered again. “Go back to sleep, my prince.”

Tal cracked an eye open. “Ruin it?” He propped up on an elbow, all vestiges of sleep slipping away. “Athlen?”

Athlen shifted again, expression pinched with pain, teeth digging into the red flesh of his bottom lip. He gasped when Tal shot to sitting, jostling the mattress.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Athlen breathed. “Go back to sleep.”

Tal furrowed his brow. “You’re in pain.”

Squirming, Athlen rolled over to face Tal, his face half hidden by the pillow. “I didn’t know it would happen so quickly.”

“What would happen? Athlen? What’s going on?”

He gasped again, eyebrows drawing together. “She’s calling in my debt.” Scales rippled over his body, and he curled into a ball, one arm around his middle, fingers spread over the shifting and fluttering of his gills, and the other hand clasping his shin. “I have to go to the sea. I have to face her.”

“No,” Tal said on a breath. “No. Not without me.”

Athlen shook his head vehemently, mouth curled down into a frown. He lurched to sitting and fumbled in the blankets until he extricated himself and stood. He held up a webbed finger. “You cannot. Tal, please.”

“What was the bargain?”

Athlen shook his head as he pulled on a pair of trousers. He walked as if on needles, hand over his mouth, breathing heavily. Scales glittered along his skin, then disappeared in waves. Drops of blood were smeared on his ribs as his gills opened uselessly, then fused.

Tal knelt, watching helplessly as Athlen fought his own body. All the happiness from before was sucked out of the room, and Tal’s heart broke seeing Athlen in pain and not knowing how to help. “Please. Athlen. What was your bargain? Just tell me! I’ll pay it. Whatever it is!”

“Don’t say that!” he snapped. “Don’t.”

“Why not? I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

He grimaced. “Tal,” he said in warning.

“I don’t understand. I’ll do anything. You know that. Anything to keep you from pain. Anything to keep… you.”

“I can’t.”

“What’s so terrible you can’t tell—”

“It’s you!” Athlen blurted.

Tal stopped short. “What?”

Athlen hobbled away, tear tracks on his cheeks. He whimpered in pain with every step, and he tugged on the strands of his hair in frustration. “It’s you.” His voice cracked.

“Me?” Tal swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “I don’t understand.”

“I promised her the blood of my beloved.” He bowed his head, face scrunched in agony and misery, cheeks red. “I gave it away freely because I never thought I’d find someone to love, someone who loved me. My family and my people were gone, and I was alone.” His voice broke. “I was so alone.”

Tal reached out, but Athlen flinched away.

“I thought… I thought if I kept away from you, she wouldn’t know. But then you were kind and then you needed me. And then I thought if we were inland, she wouldn’t be able to feel how I’d started to love you. But my legs hurt the more my affection grew, and I knew. I knew I couldn’t keep it from her. And last night”—he gestured to the bed—“I wanted one night with you, to be loved, to not be alone anymore. And it was selfish, because it would be the end.”

Tal’s heart stuttered, then shattered. “The end?”

Athlen nodded. He rubbed his eyes, expression twisting into grief.

Jumping from the bed, Tal shook his head, refusing to accept Athlen’s truth. “It’s only blood.”

Athlen snapped his head up, his face paling in an instant. “No! Stop what you’re thinking. She doesn’t make fair bargains. It’s not a drop of blood. It’s the blood of my beloved. It could be your heart, Tal. It could be all the blood in your body. It could be the blood of your family. It could be your magic.”

“I’d gladly give my magic up for you.” Tal opened his palm and a flame danced along his skin. He closed his fist and snuffed it out.