Eridan’s dismay was swallowed by the debilitating pain that shot through his mind. He stumbled again.
“Get us a healer,” Warrehn bellowed out, to his utter mortification.
“No,” Eridan tried, but it was too late. They were attracting attention, people were stopping, crowding around them, radiating confusion-curiosity-alarm so loud it made his head hurt more. Eridan panted like he’d run a marathon, his vision darkening. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to reinforce his shields against the mental assault and the splitting headache, trying to remain conscious. This couldn’t be happening, this hadn’t happened to him since he was a child—
And then there was a cool, calming touch of another mind, the mind as familiar to him as his own. Castien’s mind wrapped around him tightly, shielding him from others, and Eridan almost sobbed from how good it felt after so long. “Master,” he whispered with parched lips, falling against a broad chest and clinging.
Chapter Twenty-Five: Indulgent
Warrehn hated feeling helpless. It brought back all the feelings he’d wrestled with since he was ten.
So he settled on pacing the library of the Second Royal Palace, trying to wrap his head around this bizarre situation. The fact that he could hear the sounds of the wedding reception was only making him more agitated. Fuck, they had sure given those vultures something to talk about. He could only imagine what they were saying about Eridan after his brother had clung to Idhron and called him Master.
Warrehn ground his teeth and glanced at his brother, hoping he had finally recovered his mental faculties, but judging by the fact that Eridan was still curled up in Castien Idhron’s lap, that wasn’t the case.
“Is it a telepathic merge addiction?” Rohan said, breaking the tense silence. He was watching the pair curiously, a furrow between his dark brows.
“No,” Idhron said. “I would never be so careless.”
Rohan raised his eyebrows. “Then what is this? And don’t tell me you don’t know. You don’t seem surprised.”
Idhron looked back at Eridan.
Warrehn suppressed a shudder of unease. There was something about the way Idhron looked at Eridan that made his hackles rise. Hell, the hand Idhron had on Eridan’s lower back made his hackles rise, too. There was something proprietary about Idhron’s body language. He didn’t look uneasy or uncomfortable sitting in that armchair, with Eridan curled up in his lap and clinging to him, Eridan’s head tucked under his chin.
The most disconcerting part was Idhron’s telepathic mark: it was wrapped tightly around Eridan’s, caressing his mind with such casual intimacy it turned Warrehn’s stomach. Just how close had his brother been to this man?
“I am not surprised,” Idhron confirmed, still looking at Eridan strangely. “This has been a possibility, however remote.”
“Care to enlighten us?” Warrehn bit out.
Idhron turned his cold eyes to him. “Are you not aware of your own brother’s biology?”
Warrehn frowned, thrown off-balance. “What?”
“He is a throwback,” Idhron said. “Throwbacks are biologically different from you and me. Their brains are different.”
Warrehn stared at him. “You’re talking about the myth that throwbacks have only one true mate for life?”
Idhron’s expression became somewhat pinched. “That myth is not entirely unfounded, though I would not phrase it like that. Our private research has found that most throwbacks really fixate on one person, though it has nothing to do with them finding ‘one true mate’ and everything to do with the hormones that affect their brain and body once they fixate on someone.”
“Are you saying you and Eridan— I’ll fucking kill you, you—”
Rohan grabbed his shoulder. “Warrehn, calm down,” he said, projecting calm at him.
Warrehn took a deep breath, shaking with anger. He glared at Idhron, who looked back at him steadily.
“That is none of your concern,” Idhron said coldly. “My point is, that was a possibility, but I thought it was very remote. This should have protected him.” Idhron touched the tiny piece of purple gemstone that was still attached to the ribbon interwoven into Eridan’s hair. “It should not have broken.”
“What is that thing?” Warrehn said, trying to distract himself from the urge to plant his fist in Idhron’s face. “Eridan refused to tell me.” He had suspected that it was more than just a pretty piece of jewelry, but his brother had been very tight-lipped about it.
“It is an apprentice’s thaal,” Idhron replied. “The gemstone is infused with the apprentice’s Master’s telepathic mark, so it is normally used to denote who the apprentice belongs to. In Eridan’s case, it was also used to help him center himself. As you know, he is not very good at centering himself without assistance.”
No, he hadn’t known about it. Warrehn hated that this man knew his brother far better than he did.
“I thought that even if the throwback part of Eridan’s brain got fixated on me, his thaal would be enough to fool his hormones into thinking that I am close.” Idhron looked thoughtful, his hand stroking Eridan’s back in a manner that seemed absent-minded. Warrehn wondered if the man was even aware of what he was doing. Idhron murmured, “There is still a lot we do not know about throwbacks, and it does not help that every throwback is somewhat different from others.”