Lord of the Night

Chapter 48: Complicated

The adrenaline of the past two days kept me awake for some time. I listened to the slow, steady breathing of the man beside me, not daring to move lest I wake him up. He needed this sleep even more than I did.

As the minutes passed, his body warmed and relaxed further. I wondered how long it had been since he had slept this well. When he was awake, his gaunt face and tense jaw appeared haunting—or, as I now understood it, haunted—but now, his features softened.

How could someone so fearsome look so sweet?

Holding Isalio in my arms, my chest burned bright enough that all things felt possible. I could persuade my team to allow Isalio to help, he could earn their trust and respect, and together, we could put the past behind us and fight for a better future. When I finally drifted off, it was with a heart full of hope and noble intentions.

I woke up in a far less noble state—excruciatingly aware of the perfect backside pressed against my front.

Voices outside the door had awoken me, too muffled by the stone wall to identify the words or speakers. I hoped without the benefit of Guardian hearing, Isalio was still sleeping. Gingerly, I attempted to extricate myself from him before he would notice my current condition.

His breathing changed slightly: a hitch, and then a vocalized exhale. A barely withheld chuckle. When I cursed under my breath, he forwent the restraint, snorting a laugh.

"You really thought you could hide it?" he said.

"I thought Demons didn't have great senses."

"Come, Remgar, don't play modest. No one needs super senses to feel that."

I made a strangled sound of protest, which only caused him to laugh harder. But when he turned toward me, my embarrassment vanished. Fuck, that playful light in his eyes was worth any amount of humiliation. Even in the dark cell, he looked so bright, so carefree, so...radiant. My eyes fell to his lips, admiring the shape of them, the quirk at the corners. Remembering that electric spark when I had kissed him.

I swallowed. "Anyway, I'm not thinking of...that. It just happened."

"Nothing to do with me, then?"

"Well..." I tried to follow it up with a compelling explanation, but my tongue felt clumsy, and it was hard to think when he was smiling at me like that.

"You don't have to be embarrassed, Remgar. It's not a problem."

"I'm glad," I said weakly.

"Unless you think it's a problem"—he lifted a hand to trace from my shoulder over my bicep and down my forearm—"in which case, I might be able to help you solve it."

I gritted my teeth and suppressed a moan. First Guardian, that proposition had every part of me interested—every part of me except the part that remembered Isalio's history, remembered the reason he was quick to offer such things. I opened my mouth to reject his proposition, but this light teasing was something new, something special, something much needed after the tension-wrought days we had just survived, and I couldn't bring myself to risk disrupting that. His words sparked a shameful burn in my core, but his smile touched something even deeper.

What I wouldn't give to see that smile every day.

The door burst open.

"Remgar?" The voice cracked with emotion—shock, fear, rage. My father.

Before I could react, Isalio scrambled to his feet and retreated to the far corner where he had been huddled when I first entered. My father's eyes shot back and forth between me and Isalio several times, jaw agape. Then his eyes now fastened on Isalio, and his nostrils flared.