“Yes, interesting,” he said. “You know, in an eccentric, over the top potion maker way.”
Dorian shook his head. “I definitely do not know that way.”
“Well, it’s nothing special.”
“Just interesting?” Dorian asked with narrowed eyes.
“Yes.”
“Not attractive.”
“Sylin is married—someone high up in the council, I think. But he’s not my type.”
“No?”
“No,” Hadrian huffed. “I prefer my men, um, bigger.” Dorian raised an eyebrow. “And more rebellious.”
Dorian grinned and shook his head. “You would.” He sighed, and his grin faded. “How much will the healing affect me?”
“It will take more from you, not being used to magic and your body doing most of the work of healing. You’ll need at least a good night's sleep before…”
Before you leave.
He couldn’t bring himself to say it, but Dorian understood. He nodded.
“We should get started then.” He turned away and went to the bed and lay down. Hadrian watched him go, trying not to feel hurt by his words, and was anyway. Was he really so eager to leave?
He knelt beside the bed and placed a hand on Dorian’s side. Dorian didn’t flinch away, just watched him with knowing dark eyes. Hadrian was struck by the change in his attitude toward magic—toward him—in just a matter of days. He trusted Hadrian with his life now, without question. It should have been a happy thought—a wondrous thing—and it was on the surface, but knowing even with this wondrous thing they had managed was not enough to overcome the world they both still had to live in tore at his heart.
“Are you alright?” Dorian asked quietly. “If you need to wait—”
“No. I’m fine.” He couldn’t take the easy way out now. That would only hurt them more in the long run.
Hadrian pulled the magic in and settled it onto Dorian, feeling for the places that still needed his touch and nudging them back to what they should be. It didn’t take long, as he’d predicted. When he was done, Dorian sighed and closed his eyes.
“That’s it,” Hadrian said, standing up and going to the kitchen so Dorian wouldn’t see the hurt on his face he knew he couldn’t hide. “You might have a scar on the shoulder, but nothing significant. The burns you won’t even know were there. Odd that something that can be so devastating is actually the easiest to heal so completely. I have no idea why. Other healers might. We don’t talk enough about the how of what we do. It's always enough that we can. Someday that will probably bite us inthe ass. Maybe I can ask a few healers what they think. We’re not really supposed to, but—”
“Hadrian.” The softness in Dorian’s voice pulled at him, and he sighed and came back to the bed with a water cup for each of them. Dorian looked healthy but tired, his big dark eyes already drooping with fatigue.
“Here,” Hadrian said. “Drink something before you sleep.”
Dorian took the cup and drank without taking his eyes off him. When he was done, he set it on the floor and grabbed Hadrian’s hand before he could step away again.
“Will you lay with me?”
Hadrian smiled sadly. “Of course I will.” It would hurt, he knew that, but he would never forgive himself if he didn’t take this last opportunity. Even if he could forgive himself, even if it ripped his heart out, he didn’t think he could say no to Hadrian when he was looking at him that way. With so much longing.
With so much love.
No, that was not a safe thought. That needed to be left behind like the burns before it did damage that couldn’t be healed.
He crawled into the bed beside Dorian and buried his face in the man’s big chest, breathing him in and trying to forget anything else. Dorian wrapped his arms around him tightly, pulling him closer.
“Thank you,” he said sleepily and kissed the top of his head. “For…all of this.”
Hadrian could only nod, not trusting himself to speak and not say everything he so desperately wanted to. He listened to the sound of Dorian’s breathing deepen, the faint beat of his heart slow, and finally closed his eyes and let his tears fall.
11
