Page 71 of Captive
The grief in his voice was raw, stripped of a leader's careful composure. This moment of honesty felt more intimate than any physical touch could have been.
Sebastian nodded, stepping back without question or offense. His own arousal was evident, but he made no move to hide it or press the issue. "I understand." He put space between them. "Another time."
"When grief isn't so fresh," Boarstaff said, his thumb brushing across Sebastian's lower lip. A promise, not a rejection. "When this wouldn't be running from something else."
His thumb lingered on that lip, tracing its curve. Sebastian's eyes darkened further at the touch, his lips parting slightly, breath hot against Boarstaff's skin. He didn't move to take more, but his expression made it clear how much he wanted to. The restraint itself was somehow more arousing than if he'd acted - this predator holding back, respecting boundaries while making no attempt to hide his desire.
For a moment, Boarstaff almost changed his mind. Almost grabbed him and pushed him against the chamber wall. Almost took what was so clearly being offered. The need still pulsed through him, demanding satisfaction. Sebastian must have seen it in his eyes - the war between want and should - because his tongue darted out justenough to brush the pad of Boarstaff's thumb, not taking it into his mouth, but a fleeting contact that sent heat surging through them both.
With enormous effort, Boarstaff forced himself to step back. If he didn't now, he wouldn't at all.
Something passed between them then, not apology or rejection, but understanding that some thresholds required clearer hearts to cross. Recognition of what waited beyond grief, when the weight of loss no longer demanded their full attention.
They stood in silence for a moment, the tension slowly ebbing as reality reasserted itself. Sebastian broke eye contact first, reaching for a nearby cloth to dry himself. The movement was graceful despite his recent transformation, each gesture carrying a fluid quality that had replaced mechanical precision. Boarstaff found the simple domesticity of watching him dry off strangely intimate after what had just passed between them.
"We should get back," Boarstaff said finally, his voice rougher than he'd intended. "The council will be waiting for an explanation."
Sebastian nodded, accepting the inevitable return to politics and practicalities. As they moved toward the chamber entrance where the guards had left fresh clothing, he seemed to be considering something.
"With me staying, I'll need my own space," Sebastian said as Boarstaff offered him the clean garments. "Somewhere separate from your people, at least at first. For their safety as much as mine."
"The eastern caves," Boarstaff suggested, his voice returning to practical matters. But his eyes still held warmth as they lingered on Sebastian's face. "Nearby, yet distant enough."
They climbed worn steps toward moonlight and politics, toward a settlement that would react with everything from outrage to cautious hope at Boarstaff's decision. Toward council meetings where Thornmaker would demand explanations, border patrols that would whisper about their warchief's judgment, and endless negotiations about what Sebastian's presence might mean for treaties with neighboring clans.
But in that moment, climbing from darkness toward uncertain light, something had shifted between them. Not just alliance between former enemies, not calculated advantage born of desperate times. Something real, something that grew in the spaces between hatred andtrust.
"Cornelius won't stop hunting me," Sebastian said as they neared the surface. "He doesn't accept failure. Or deviation."
"Then we'll face that when it comes," Boarstaff replied simply. "As we've faced everything else."
The settlement waited above, and with it all the complications their connection would create. But as they reached the threshold, Boarstaff chose possibility over safety. Hope over hatred.
Something his people hadn't considered in generations of war. Something that existed in the spaces between what they'd all been and what they might become.
Something worth whatever price the future demanded.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The obsidian floor of House de la Sang's central audience chamber reflected endless shadows as Cornelius paced its length. Wisps of pale yellow mist escaped from his collar, their measured release hiding the fury building inside him. Behind him, the enormous clockwork mechanisms that regulated the citadel's operation churned steadily, their rhythmic grinding matching his deliberate steps.
When the doors opened, Zarek entered first, moving with unnatural grace despite the damage to his enhanced body. His jaw hung at an awkward angle, connection points visibly broken. Dark fluid still seeped through hasty patches across his torso. Behind him came Dominic, youngest of the three brothers, his once-porcelain skin threaded with copper, glass eyes taking in everything.
"Father," Zarek's voice came out distorted through damaged vocal mechanisms. "Our scouts confirmed it. Sebastian betrayed us." His collar let out erratic bursts of haze that showed his barely controlled anger. "He fought against me. Protected the orcs."
Cornelius didn't turn right away. His attention stayed fixed on the enormous map table at the chamber's center, markers showing territories, defensive positions, and Sebastian's last known location. For eight centuries, he had built House de la Sang's influence through careful planning. Each decision, each enhancement, each territory gained had been calculated for maximum advantage.
But this he hadn't seen coming.
"Explain yourself clearly," Cornelius finally turned, his voice betraying none of the rage simmering beneath his perfectly regulated exterior. Five centuries of enhancements had given him control that lesser nobles could only envy. "The reports indicated capture, not defection. If we had known more, we’d have already retrieved him,instead of letting him sit for days so he would welcome our saving him."
"I engaged him myself, Father." Zarek's damaged jaw produced a discordant sound. "He protected the orcs carrying our human investment from the improvement chambers. He chose them over his own blood." His hand opened and closed with predatory anticipation. "And there's more. His body was changing."
"Changing how?" For the first time, Cornelius's precise control faltered slightly. A yellowish cloud drifted from his collar, not the controlled release of noble discourse, but something more primal.
"Not failing." Zarek approached the map table, his gait faltering from damaged systems. "Transforming. Becoming something else entirely. My blade should have terminated him. I used the special alloy designed to disrupt our healing. But his metal adapted, flowing like liquid instead of breaking."
Dominic stepped forward, glass eyes adjusting their focus. Unlike his brothers, he had embraced extreme modification, his once-human features now merely framework for intricate mechanical systems. "The blood trackers found residue at the ambush site," he reported, voice calibrated to perfect neutrality. "It confirms Zarek's assessment. Sebastian wasn't merely damaged. He was evolving."
