Poison Page 6

  "I see," Ailill said with a laugh. "Well, perhaps after the ceremony I can take one last journey. I must settle into my own duties at some point, but I admit I keep putting them off."

  "With the ceremony so close, I think you have good reason to focus on that rather than lands that have taken care of themselves well enough without you. I would suspect that the people who need you have not suffered at all."

  Ailill shook his head. "No. I am starting to lose track of the number of fights I have broken up since I arrived home. I fear by the time the day of the ceremony arrives people will be too busy fighting in the streets to notice."

  "Has it become so bad here?" Ivan asked, surprise.

  "Unfortunately," Ailill said with another sigh. "Cats versus dogs, who will band together long enough to pick on snakes, who in turn hate the avian—it's a mess. I've not had much chance to speak with the other Beasts, but my impression is that they are just as exhausted. Lady Elianne returned home to deal with that very sort of problem on her estate. Kundou had its mermaids, Pozhar had its Vessel hunts, Piedre its bloody cults, and we are breaking into groups and feuding."

  Ivan shifted, moved, and then was sitting next to him in the carriage. It was crowded, but Ailill did not care in the slightest. He leaned into Ivan, soaking up the smell of him, liking the hint of some spicy cologne mingled with the earthier, smoky scent of Ivan himself.

  Calloused fingers combed through his hair, dislodged the ribbon loosely holding it back and tilted his face up to take a brief but firm kiss. "It will work out. If there is one thing I have learned in the past couple of years, it is that it pays to have faith. You were always more faithful than me, faerie child. Do not lose that faith now."

  Ailill nodded, but stayed leaning against him, curving one hand lightly over Ivan's thigh, just relishing his warmth and solidity. It unsettled him just how much he really had missed Ivan. They had not known each other long. There were people he'd known longer whose faces he could not recall. He did not think he would ever forget Ivan's. "I'm glad you came to visit me," he said.

  "I am glad I finally decided to make the journey," Ivan said quietly. "You're remarkably hard to forget, cat."

  "Wait until we stop for the night," Ailill said with a smirk, squeezing Ivan's thigh. "I will be more than happy to demonstrate the more memorable parts of me."

  Ivan laughed and brushed back his hair, lips grazing his ear before he nipped it sharply. "Looking forward to it, though that was not the only reason I missed you."

  Ailill shivered, but did not reply, content simply to sit there and soak up the warmth of Ivan's presence.

  Chapter Five: Royal Ball

  Gael held still while Freddie fussed with his cravat, folding and knotting and driving him utterly mad.

  "Hold still," Freddie admonished, swatting his chest and undoing all of her work. Gael heaved a long sigh, but it garnered him no sympathy. "If you would hold still and stop fidgeting like a mouse among cats then I would already be done. Hold. Still." She swatted him again for good measure and resumed working on his cravat.

  He forced himself to remain still, but it was hard. He was tired of people being close, tired of the rooms and the way they closed in on him, tired of the tension. Then there was the royal ball, just minutes away. The only thing he dreaded more was the ceremony.

  "There, all done," Freddie said. "Honestly, it's a disgrace that at your age you cannot tie any, but the plainest knots."

  Gael reached up to lightly touch the elaborate folds of white and silver lace, the gleaming opal pinning all in place. Sliding his gaze to Freddie, he said, "Honestly, it's a disgrace that at your age you cannot put on the simplest gown."

  "Roast your mother," Freddie said cheerfully, running her hands over white breeches that had the faintest shimmer of gold to them. "Do not be jealous I wear breeches better than you." She eyed him critically, lingering on his crotch with a smirk. "Though I suppose one might argue it depends on what you like filling your breeches."

  Rolling his eyes, Gael picked up a jacket that made of the most delicate, pale gray with opal buttons and trimmed in dark silver. "You are incorrigible."

  "I have never denied it," Freddie replied with a grin before turning to look in a full length mirror to fuss with her own clothes, running a hand through her short hair. "All set then, my dear?" she asked when she was done, and at Gael's nod, they left the suite together. They met Etain in the private antechamber off the back of the ballroom, where she was speaking quietly with the White Wolf, Lord Lyall Richelieu, the White Mongoose, Lady Seraphin Bellerose, and the White Bear, Lioc Giles.

  She smiled at them as they entered and beckoned them close, kissing each on the mouth. "Gael, Frederique. You both look beautiful. Are you ready to dance?"

  "Always," Gael replied, thinking he would vastly prefer to bury himself in the annual tax reports. He gave his arm to Lord Lyall, a short, handsome man with spiky white hair, diamonds in his ears, and a smile that was unusually bright for nobility.

  Etain tugged a bell pull and after a moment, they walked through the double doors that led into the ballroom. The room had stilled, and as they stepped out onto the dais that took up one end of the ballroom, everyone burst into applause. Moving forward, Etain gave her usual royal ball speech, placing a great deal of emphasis on cooperation, unity, and faith as tensions rose with the approach of the ceremony.

  Gael barely listened, all his attention focused to a fine point on the breathtaking figure in black tucked back into a corner, anxiously twirling a glass of champagne and occasionally shooting wistful glances at the nearest balcony. It was a longing Gael shared with every aching fiber of his being.

  He jerked back to awareness when the gong rang, signaling the end of the speech and the resumption of festivities. Smiling at Lord Lyall, Gael led him down to the dance floor. When he finished dancing with Lyall, he danced with Seraphin, and so on through three more Beasts and two lesser lords.

  By that point, he was ready to stop dancing the rest of the evening—but dancing was the thing, and dancing was nothing truly taxing for him. As the Unicorn, he had far more strength and stamina than dancing could challenge.

  Going to the buffet table, he picked up a glass of sparkling rose wine. It was sweet, almost too sweet for a wine, which was exactly how he liked it. When he had finished two glasses and spent a suitable length of time chatting, he resumed dancing.

  He danced first with the White Fox followed by the son of an Earl who was clearly attending his first ball. Then, finally, he could no longer resist the only dance he really wanted. Drifting casually through the ballroom, smiling and chatting, he stopped as though by chance amongst a cluster of people that included Noire.

  "Voice, I have not seen you dance this evening."

  Noire looked startled and flushed as those around them laughed. "My pardon, your highness. I have never been much for dancing."

  "Well, I insist you be much for it before her highness finds me for this dance and breaks my toes." While the others laughed all the harder, Gael extended a hand, curling his fingers tightly around Noire's when he took it. He pulled Noire away from the cluster of people and across the ballroom to the dance floor just in time for a waltz.

  "G—highness—" Noire closed his mouth with a click and frowned at Gael's cravat as they began to dance.

  Gael stifled a sigh, wanting to bend and kiss him more than he wanted to draw breath. "Are you enjoying the ball, Master Noire?"

  "Of course," Noire said, smiling weakly and drawing his eyes up with obvious effort. "I still find them overwhelming, but it's hard to hate them. Too many fond memories for that."

  "Yes," Gael said softly, hand tightening slightly on Noire's waist, just enough that some of the lines of tension on Noire's face eased. Lowering his voice, though the music and the chatter made hearing him difficult even at a normal tone, Gael said, "You look stunning, kitten. You're the most beautiful figure in the room. I am jealous of all the eyes that have been undressing you."

>   Noire laughed at that, head shaking once in dismissal. "You must not be noticing the way they look at you, highness." His mouth twisted then, but it turned back into a smile a moment later.

  Gael could not bear it. He knew the thoughts that went through Noire's mind, the doubts—doubts he deserved. It would serve him right if Noire gave up on him and walked away. It would break his heart, and make life unbearable, but it would serve him right.

  He waited until the dance ended, then said, "Walk with me, Voice. Perhaps if I look as though I am engaged in an important conversation with you I will be left alone for a time." He led the way back to the buffet tables and took another glass of wine, looking at Noire, who only shook his head in refusal. "Come, we'll walk this way where it's quieter."

  Reluctantly avoiding the balconies, he slipped outside to the hallway, nodding congenially to the guards. "If my sisters inquire as to my presence, tell them I slipped out to have a word with the Voice."

  "Yes, your highness," the guards replied and bowed.

  Out in the hallway, he led Noire to a small, curtained nook—whisper nooks, some called them, but kissing nooks was by far the more popular term. Closing the curtain, he pulled Noire into his arms and kissed him deeply.

  Noire froze in surprise, then moaned and melted in his arms, wrapping his own around Gael's neck. Gael ran his fingers up and down Noire's back, spanning them across his ass before cupping it and pulling him even closer. Noire smelled like musk and velvet and honey and tasted even better. He fit perfectly in Gael's arms, as though crafted exclusively for them. Gael did not care a whit how much ego was in that thought.

  "You are temptation incarnate, kitten," he murmured as he broke away, nuzzling Noire's cheek, teeth grazing his skin before he bit Noire's ear. "I want to tie you to my bed and keep you there forever, always ready for whatever wicked deed strikes my fancy."

  "Gael—" Noire shuddered and clung tighter, rubbing against him.

  Ignoring the voice in his head railing at him for being reckless and stupid, Gael kissed him again, jerking Noire hard against him and grinding their cocks together. He could not remember the last time they'd been together for more than a stolen moment in a locked room. But he was the reason for that, and so he would have to live with his choices until he could change them.

  Opening the curtain slightly, he checked that the hallway was clear, then slipped out, dragging Noire down the hall and around the corner to a parlor they had used before at other parties. Locking the door behind them, Gael leaned against it and dragged Noire close again.

  Noire's dark skin was beautifully flushed, hot beneath his lips and so deliciously soft. "I could kiss you until the world ends, kitten," he breathed against Noire's skin and then kissed him, one hand buried in Noire's hair, the other wrapped around his waist.

  "Gael, I need—" Noire did not finish the sentence, just kissed him again, too hungry and eager for finesse. It just made Gael's cock throb harder and want all the more desperately exactly what Noire asked for.

  Pushing away from the door and further into the room, Gael spun Noire around and nibbled on his ear as he asked, "How do you want it, kitten?"

  Noire just made a mewling sound and rubbed back against him, reaching back to cling to him, hold his head close. Gael loved it when Noire got so needy, so wanton. It was so drastically different from the quiet, shy mien he showed the rest of the world.

  Smiling against his hair, Gael drew far enough away to lead Noire to the small sofa in one corner of the room. It was too small to use properly, but the back was perfect for bending someone over it.

  Moaning, Noire braced himself with ease and eager familiarity as Gael undid and tugged down Noire's breeches. It was only as he stroked Noire's bare ass, bent to kiss it and sink his teeth into it to leave a mark that would leave a lingering ache, that he realized he had not come prepared to break his own rules.

  "I hope you were smarter than me, kitten."

  Noire gave a ragged, husky laughed. "Inside pocket of my jacket." He started to stand up to get it, but Gael pushed him back down and bent over him to find the small vial himself.

  Moaning, Noire settled himself more comfortably across the back of the sofa and spread his legs as far as he could manage with his breeches down around his thighs.

  Gael opened the bottle, catching the scent of primroses as he slicked his fingers and slipped one inside Noire's entrance. He bit back a groan, cock throbbing. It had definitely been far too long since he had been able to take Noire to bed—since he had been able to enjoy his lover properly at all.

  Whatever it took, he would have to make the time. He loathed his nightmares, his fear, himself, with every fiber of his being. The sweet sound of his name in a hitched, breathy tone drew him out of his dark thoughts and dragged him back into the sweet depths of his lover. He pushed in a second finger, stretching Noire slowly, enjoying the heat and tightness, the way Noire pushed back against him seeking more.

  By the time he withdrew his fingers, he was not certain which of them was more desperate to feel his cock sink into Noire's body. Undoing his breeches, quickly slicking himself, Gael curled one hand around Noire's hip and guided his cock to the entrance, and slowly pushed inside.

  "Gael ... " Noire said on a long groan, head falling, hips pushing up. Gael curled around him as he finally sank all the way in, drawing in unsteady breaths while he waited for Noire to adjust to an intrusion not felt for months. "Please, Gael."

  Kissing his neck, Gael obediently drew back, grabbed Noire's hips, and began to fuck him. He started slowly, pulling out slightly and pushing back in, but as Noire made increasingly desperate noises he began to move faster, harder, pulling nearly all the way out and then thrusting back in, eliciting a cry every time. He rode Noire hard, fucked him thoroughly, world narrowing only the body clenching around his cock, the sight and smell and sounds of his lover.

  Reaching down, he grasped Noire's cock and stroked him in time with his thrusts. Noire cried his name as he came, shuddering hard, and the feel of his climax around Gael's cock drove Gael over the edge, and he cried Noire's name as he came.

  He groaned as passion finally eased, and the rest of the world returned around him and his softened cock slipped free of Noire's body. Turning Noire around, he pulled out a handkerchief and cleaned them both up, then set Noire's clothes to rights. He looked decidedly rumpled and all the more desirable for it. "You are perfection."

  Noire flushed at the words, but smiled. "You're biased."

  "Happily so," Gael replied and cupped his face to kiss him softly. "I do love you, kitten. More than life itself. Only your safety keeps my silence."

  "Does my safety also—" Noire stopped and turned his head.

  Gael frowned. "Does your safety also what?"

  "Nothing."

  He gripped Noire's chin, forced his head up, and said gently, "Tell me, kitten."

  "You still—with your—with them—" His eyes filled with tears and he jerked free, then shoved away, but not quickly enough for Gael to miss the way he trembled.

  The words were a fist to his gut, guilt souring the wine in his stomach. He looked at Noire, hating the betrayal, the hurt, the tears he was barely holding back. Crossing the room to him, Gael hugged him tightly. "I've never loved them, not as I love you. It's a tradition I've been locked in and did not know how to find my way out of until I saw you. It was something I always thought I wanted, and then I thought there must be something wrong with me because I did not want it—but you're right, that does not excuse it. I keep telling myself that I will finally confess everything, end the relationship with them, and declare ours when the ceremony is over. It seemed the most logical, the easiest." He drew back, squeezed Noire's shoulders, and cupped his face. "But easiest for me is not easiest for you. Being the Unicorn does not give me leave to be a bastard. I am sorry."

  Noire gave a rough, short laugh of relief, a couple of stray tears slipping down his cheeks. "You are the Unicorn, and I don't want to break tradition.
I know the Triad is important, and I'm just—"

  "You're not just anything," Gael said fiercely, kissing the tears away before taking Noire's mouth. "You're my entire world. I lived for duty before you, Noire. I was tired of it all. Only my nightmares keep me from telling the world about you. A smarter man would have kept his distance entirely until the ceremony was over—"

  "No!" Noire burst out, gripping the front of Gael's jacket, startling him. "Don't leave me. I hate being a secret. I hate seeing them touch you. But I hate more the idea that I won't have you at all. What if the ceremony doesn't work? What if in two and a half months you die? I would rather have you as a secret for the past three years, than not at all."

  Gael swallowed, gently took the hands holding fast to his jacket, and pulled them up around his neck, then slid his own arms around Noire's waist, holding him tightly and burying his head in Noire's throat. "I love you, kitten."

  "I love you, too," Noire whispered. "I won't die, no matter what your nightmares say. But you can't die either."

  "No matter what it takes, kitten, I'll come back to you. Hopefully, you will still want me as a god."

  Noire laughed. "I cannot see loving a god being so different from loving a prince as long as that god is you. I think if anything, a god will not want me."

  "Then I would make for a very stupid god," Gael said with a faint smile and drew him into a last, lingering kiss. "Come, we had best go. But if I must throw everyone out of the palace on whatever excuse I can devise, I will have you naked upon your sheets before the month is out."

  The words made Noire close his eyes, swallow, and shiver against Gael. "Do not say such things, or I will demand you put me right back over the sofa."

  "Do not tempt me," Gael said, and made himself step away. "Now—" He froze as Etain's voice shot through his mind. Get back here at once! Where are you? Now! There's been another one.