Finnvid still didn’t seem completely happy, but he smiled, and laced his hands behind Theos’s neck and pulled their mouths together. And after that, Theos stopped really worrying about whatever the problem had been; he had more important things to pay attention to.
***
Finnvid stretched, and Theos’s sleepy mumbled complaint made him smile. They’d spent the last two days horizontal almost all of the time, tangled around each other, intimate and comfortable. Theos hadn’t stopped “playing,” and Finnvid hadn’t needed to face the truth: it might just be a game for Theos, but for Finnvid it was much, much more.
They’d decided that this would be their last night in the den. Theos wasn’t sure he could manage a full day of walking yet, but even a half day would be something, and would help him start to get strong again. The day before he’d done some scouting and come back looking confident. He’d seen no tracks on the main trail, suggesting that the Elkati troops had given up and gone home.
“They might still be around,” he’d mused as Finnvid helped him out of his snow-covered clothes. “They might have raced along the trail, hoping to catch up to us before we crossed into Windthorn territory. They know I was hurt, so they’d be hoping I couldn’t move fast. By now they’ll have hit the border and maybe have turned around and be coming back.” He’d glanced at Finnvid. “They’re your people . . . does that sound right?”
Finnvid had nodded thoughtfully. “Probably. And them knowing you’re wounded might not matter too much. They know you’re Sacrati, and the way people talk about that? They make it sound as though you can fly. If the mountains were in your way, you’d just lift the mountains up and shove them to the side.”
Theos had been quiet for a moment, then said, “They might think differently, now that they’ve killed some of us.”
He’d worn the same expression he had every time he spoke of the attack, and as always, Finnvid had been torn between compassion, his own sorrow, and his sense of guilt. He hadn’t known the attack was going to happen, but heshould have. He’d invited the Torians to the castle, and that had been a mistake that had cost brave men their lives.
Now, lying next to Theos, feeling the warmth of his body, Finnvid let himself admit to another emotion. Relief. He’d made a horrible mistake, and men had died, butTheoswas still alive. A selfish reaction, yet honest all the same. If Theos had died, Finnvid never would have come alive himself.
“Maybe we could just move farther into the forest,” he suggested, not sure if Theos would listen to him or not. “You’re still not at full strength; if we get into trouble and have to run or fight, you won’t be as strong as you could be.”
“We’d better stay out of trouble, then.” Theos pulled Finnvid closer to him, then rolled and shifted until Finnvid was flat on his back, Theos on his side and snuggled in close, one leg thrown over Finnvid’s so their cocks lined up. It seemed to be one of Theos’s favorite postures, and Finnvid had no complaints about it either. “I need to go home,” he said softly, his lips tickling Finnvid’s jawline as he spoke. “We’ll be careful, but I can’t stay here. I can’t keep lying around, enjoying myself with you, when my valley may be at war with itself.”
Finnvid gave a nod, and ended it with his head tilted back, leaving more space for Theos’s explorations. Finnvid had shaved when he’d been in Elkat, but now his stubble was long enough to be softening, long enough for Theos to get a grip on it with his teeth when he wanted to. Sharp tugs followed by the warmth of Theos’s tongue, little nips immediately kissed better . . . Finnvid wanted to stay balanced like this, wanted to surrender all independence and give his body to Theos in perpetuity. If he could, he’d volunteer to be Theos’s bedwarmer again, to be cared for and owned and protected. But that wasn’t their future.
Theos was kissing his way down Finnvid’s body, now, pushing bedclothes out of the way, leaving a trail of warmed skin to be cooled by exposure. Finnvid had lost track of how many orgasms he’d been given in the last few days, but his body apparently wasn’t exhausted yet, responding to Theos’s ministrations as enthusiastically as ever. He let himself lie back and surrendered to the sensations, Theos’s warm lips wrapping around him, his soft tongue flickering and teasing, his strong hands massaging and coaxing. Finnvid felt like his entire body was liquefying. Well, everything but his cock. Really, it was like all the strength and solidity of his entire being was channeled into one part of his body, the part sliding in and out of Theos’s hot mouth.
He found enough energy to prop himself up on his elbows so he could watch. It wasn’t the sensations that were important, not really.Anyonecould perform these acts. Maybe not as well, but well enough. The parts Finnvid needed to remember, the images he wanted to have filed away to comfort him in his lonely future, were aboutTheos. The rough man being gentle, the enemy being a friend. The beautiful, powerful creature abandoning its fierceness and giving pleasure instead of pain.
This was what Finnvid would remember. They’d go back to Windthorn and do what they had to do, and Theos would have hundreds of other men to choose from, not to mention the trips to the city. Finnvid would be forgotten. But he would not forget.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
They left their den behind the next morning, kicking at the snow walls and doing what they could to disguise their interference with nature. There were still signs, of course, because several days of human habitation were hard to erase. But it was less obvious than it had been.
Theos kissed Finnvid at the edge of the clearing, and even though they were leaving together, it felt like good-bye.
They moved slowly and carefully, always quiet, and Finnvid could feel his shoulders tightening from the tension. It had been one thing to travel the difficult mountain trail when the only enemy was nature; but now, with the possibility of men out there who would kill Theos and might kill Finnvid, everything was even more daunting.
They’d decided to stay on the main trail in order to make better time. Theos had asked questions about the land, about alternate paths, and Finnvid had been ashamed to realize that, though he’d been a member of the family that claimed sovereignty over this territory his whole life, he knew less about the terrain than Theos had picked up in his one trip through.
Theos believed there were several places where the main path was the only way to travel, unless they were to use ropes and mountain climbing tools, which they didn’t have, to ascend the peaks. Finnvid had been forced to accept Theos’s decision when he said, “There’s no point mucking about in the woods, breaking our own trail, when we’ll have to come out on the main trail in some places anyway. If the Elkati are still out there . . .” He’d shaken his head in frustration. “We’ll have to watch for signs, and hope for wind to blow our tracks away. We shouldn’t wear the snow flats; we’ve only got one pair anyway, and if they see those tracks, they’ll know for sure they’re ours. Our best hope is that they found Andros’s path up through the mountains and followed it; if they’re all up there, we can skip right past them and take the valley route.”
“And if they didn’t? If they’re on the same trail we’re taking, marching back toward us?”
Theos had made a face. “That would be bad. But I watched your men on the way here. They weren’t good in the mountains, not good in snow. Right?”
It had felt strangely disloyal to agree with Theos’s assessment, but it would have been even more disloyal to deny a truth that might be important. “We stay in the valley during winter. We consider it foolhardy to go into the mountains.”
“That’s good. So whoever is out there will be unhappy. Trudging along like you and the other Elkati did on the way here, with your eyes on the feet of the person in front of you. And if the person in front of the parade is just as disheartened, he won’t be looking for anything too intently either. Butwe’llbe paying attention, and we’ll know they’re coming before they know we’re there. We’ll slip into the woods and let them march right by, and if we’re lucky, they won’t notice our tracks.”
“And if we’re unlucky?”
Theos had smiled sadly and pulled a looped strip of leather out of his pack. “If we’re unlucky, you stretch this around your wrists and then yank it tight with your teeth.” He’d demonstrated, with the loop catching one hand only, and Finnvid had seen how the knot was cleverly constructed to tighten with a jerk, and then not loosen. “I attack, you stay behind. When they’re done with me they find you, and you show them your bound hands and tell them your tale of kidnapping and violence.”
When they’re done with me. Those words echoed in Finnvid’s head as he trudged along the snowy trail. After Theos had said that, Finnvid had resolved to stay just as alert as Theos, to be the guardian who would keep them out of trouble. He’d keep the Elkati away from Theos, and then they wouldneverbe done with him. But as he’d walked, the cold and the effort had drained the energy from him, and by the time they stopped for a midday break, he knew he was just as numb to his surroundings as the other Elkati on the mountain.
“We can get off the trail here, where the rock is windswept so they won’t see our tracks, and make a little den,” Theos said. He’d been walking in front all morning, breaking the path. “They could walk right by us and never notice. We can rest for a couple hours, then see how we feel. If we’re strong, we’ll walk some more, then make a better den for the night.”
Finnvid nodded. He wasn’t going to argue with any plan that involved the word “rest.” He followed Theos off the trail and into the trees, and together they burrowed out a two-person sleep tunnel and crawled inside, their packs at their feet to shut out most of the wind.
