So, like a coward, I hesitate, letting the boundaries between us stand. I let fear of the sheer strength of this thing growing between us stand. As I violently fight a desire for him that’s so tight and hard, I want to fling myself through the doorway and into his arms, and sink my teeth into the base of his neck, claiming him as my own.

But still, I don’t budge.

Trystan’s gaze darkens, a flash of sheer pain in it as he gives me a hard look then pushes the door closed, and I feel it snap shut, down the entire length of my spine.

Trystan

It takes everything in me to close the door on Vothe. On the unmistakable want in his eyes. Want he’s clearly at war with himself over. Maybe even hates himself for.

It’s ironic and surreal, how, here in the East, there’s no shame in the fact that we’re both men. No. There’s shame in it here for an entirely different reason.

Because I’m Gardnerian.

I can sense Vothe through the door. Sense him as clearly as if I were a shifter myself.

He’ll never give in to his desire for you. You’ll never have him.

I stand there, cursing myself for yet again tormenting myself. Over and over. Wanting Gareth Keeler as more than a friend for years. Pining over Yvan Guriel.

And now, falling in love with the most desired young man in the Eastern Realm. A man who may be increasingly my ally, but who can never fully give in to wanting a Gardnerian.

Who will never let himself give in to wanting me.

Vothendrile

Vothendrile

I’m falling in love with Trystan Gardner.

Vothendrile

Vothendrile

I cannot be falling in love with Trystan Gardner.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ZONOR UNDERTOW

Trystan Gardner & Vothendrile Xanthile

The Wyvernguard
North Wyvernguard Island, Noilaan
Eastern Realm
Sixth Month

Vothendrile

“You can’t be with the grandson of the Black Witch.”

I look sidelong at my elder brother, Gethindrile, my hackles rising in response to the paternal censure in his tone. A breeze from the Vo River far below flows over us as we lean against the railing of the Wyvernguard’s highest walkway connecting the North and South Islands. His visit all the way from Zhilaan was unexpected, but I’m clear on the reason for it.

“Keeping track of my every attraction now?” I chide, defiance sparking. “I caution against it. You’ll get little else done.”

“Vothe,” he says, concern in his dark eyes, “take care here.”

“What if I’m done taking care, Geth?” I ask, incensed at the intrusion. “Did you know Trystan’s converting to the Vo’lon faith? That he’s covered in bruises from letting the Vu Trin blast magic at him in every conceivable way so they’ll stand a chance against the Mages?”