“You have me worried, angel. Perchance a visit with your fathers is precisely what you need. You have been away from them for many years. This item you seek—I wonder if it will help restore these elusive memories of yours.”
Trystan nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment.
Myrddin stood and pulled Trystan into his arms. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Trystan’s lips.
In that briefest of moments, Trystan’s eyes slipped closed, a warmth rushing through his bloodstream, spiraling into a tingling heat at his core. Myrddin’s lips on his made him forget about the world beyond, worries from the other realm disremembered as if they’d never existed.
Myrddin pulled away and licked his lips, his heated green gaze locked on Trystan’s sparking something primal inside him. “Come back to bed with me, angel. We both could do with more rest, especially with such a long ride ahead, and I sleep so much better with you in my arms.”
Without waiting for an answer, Myrddin took Trystan’s hand and led him toward the bedchamber. Trystan allowed Myrddin to guide him a few feet before the memory of what he was meant to do returned. He stopped before they could cross the threshold to the bedchamber.
“No. I can’t. We must go now. What I need from my father cannot wait.” Trystan slipped his hand from Myrddin’s grip and pulled away.
“Very well. Gather what you need. I’ll tell Emma and ready the horses.”
Trystan winced internally at his mention of Emma, knowing his remaining time with her would be short. He dreaded the thought of losing her. She was part of the deception and yet his heart didn’t see it that way. He didn’t want to leave her behind. If he could bring her with him, he would.
She isn’t real.
Trystan tried to hold fast to the truth in his own mind, but the ache in his chest did not lessen. His gut twisted at the thought of abandoning her. Myrddin he wasn’t truly leaving behind, but Emma… Maybe he should stay.
With a subtle shake of his head, Trystan pushed the thought from his mind. The real world awaited his return. The people of Loegria needed someone to protect them from Morgaine’s wrath.
A shroud of darkness there will come.
The prophecy’s words of warning came back to him.
Staying was not an option.
***
“It’s been two days, Emrys.” Marc stood just outside the ring of stones, staring into the dense mist. “I could have ridden to Lundain and back by now.”
Emrys stopped pacing and sat near the dying embers of their overnight fire. “I know.”
“I should have gone with him.”
“Trystan made the choice he believed was right.” Emrys sighed, pulling a small stone from his leather satchel. “I didn’t want him to go alone either.”
“Yet you insisted we let him.”
“I did.” Emrys looked up from the smoldering ashes between them, turning over the stone in his hand and rubbing his thumb over its etched surface. “Trystan is more powerful than he knows, but he won’t ever trust his power unless we do also.”
“And what if he doesn’t make it out?”
“He will.”
“How do you know? He could die in there.”
“He could, but he hasn’t yet.”
“And you know this how?”
Emrys puffed his cheeks, letting out a deep breath. “Because the connection I have with him from the slumber spell remains unbroken.”
A spark of jealousy surged within Marc. He recalled what Emrys had told him after the lake attack. Trystan and Emrys would always be connected in a way Marc could never understand, and Marc didn’t like it. Trystan was his cymara. No one else should have any sort of bond with his cymara, and Marc couldn’t help the gnawing feeling in his gut that a part of Trystan would always belong to Emrys, no matter how much he proclaimed to love him.
“It bothers you, doesn’t it?” Emrys said.
