Panting, Kade wiped at his eyes. He gazed at Killian, hisexpression soft and open. His voice was a whisper. “I am.”
“Happier than in Turell?”
“I am.”
“Would you tell me if you weren’t?”
Kade took a stuttering breath. With his fingertips, he reached out to trace the thick black lined on Killian’s neck. “Yes, Killi. I would tell you.” He followed theenildown the center of Killian’s chest. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to not be happy when I’m with you.”
Killian shivered.
The tension in the air was thick.
Kade’s lips parted, his breath came in short, shallow puffs of air. His amber eyes gleamed in the fading sunlight as they trailed across Killian’s face.
Killian swore he saw Kade’s eyes linger on his lips, something heavy in them that mirrored his own hunger. For a moment, all he wanted was to close the distance and capture Kade’s lips, and for a moment, he thought Kade would let him.
This was getting out of hand.
Killian needed to stop this. Walk away.
Kade wasnormal. Kade’s feeling werenormal. He wasn’t fucked up like Killian, seeing signs and signals and interest where there was none.
“Do you remember that night in the vineyard when we saw those fyreflies?” Kade asked suddenly. “You told me you had something important to tell me. Something serious.”
Inhaling sharply, Killian cringed. He did. He remember that day. Vividly. He’d hoped Kade had forgotten all about it in the chaos that came after.
Only months before Killian had been arrested, days afterKade’s fiftieth birthday—his coming of age—he’d knocked on Kade’s window in the middle of the night, drawing the other elf out into the moonlight.
They’d ventured into the darkness, hand in hand, between the rows of the dormant vines. Walking until they found a safe place to curl up for the night, huddled together for warmth and comfort.
It had been the closest Killian had ever gotten to telling Kade the truth, to confessing. To asking Kade to run with him, to leave Turell and Pella and Tyr behind. It had seemed like the right moment, if there was such a thing. He’d thought about it for weeks. He’d been going to tell Kade everything. Lay himself at Kade’s feet and beg him for a chance, for a future. He’d been going to say that he was a good elf, a strong elf, and he loved Kade more than anything; and if Kade didn’t hate him for it, then Killian would do everything in his power to give them a good life, a safe life away from Turell.
It had been right on the tip of his tongue. Then, Killian had caught a glimpse of Kade’s face, the smile, the trust, and he…couldn’t. He couldn’t ruin that.
“I remember.”
“I think—” Kade paused, swallowing hard. “I think I know what you wanted to tell me.”
No. This couldn’t be happening. “Kade.”
“Killi, I—”
Killian ripped away. He couldn’t bear to hear it, so like a coward he put a stop to it. “Don’t. Don’t do this. Not now.”
Kade looked stricken, like Killian had punched him. His breath stuttered. “Why not?”
“I-I can’t…Kade, I can’t.” How was Killian supposed to say that Kade’s rejection would kill him? That it would make him want to rip his own heart out?
With a pained sound, Kade’s face twisted with hurt. He turned away.
Silently, Killian got to his feet and left.
Kade didn’t follow for a long time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE PALACE GATES opened and a group of five riders entered at a lope. Not a carriage in sight.
