He released the breath slowly and shook his head. “You’re still holding on to that?” He cursed softly and took another step closer to the bed. Rayne had shifted, putting his feet on the floor as if preparing to stand. The beautiful man stared up at Eno, and there was such confusion on his face. “I hadn’t meant anything by that, Rayne. I certainly hadn’t meant to shake your confidence. I just…I just wanted to keep you there talking to me. Sometimes, just ten seconds alone with you is the best part of my day.”
“Oh,” slipped softly from his parted lips. “But I got hurt. I was sloppy. I was too focused on healing the assassin’s heart that I wasn’t paying attention to his hand. I should have seen the knife.”
Eno couldn’t stop himself from reaching out. He tried to mentally prepare himself for Rayne to pull away from him or to even knock his hand away. Pure bliss and relief flooded his body when he slid his fingers along Rayne’s smooth cheek to cup the side of his face. “Sometimes fighters get hurt. It is a fact of our jobs. Do you think less of me for getting hurt? Do you think me incapable of keeping Cael safe?”
“No, but—” Rayne tried to turn his face away from Eno, but Eno caught his chin, forcing him to tilt his head up. Gods, he could drown in those brilliant jade green eyes that watched him with such complete trust. He’d known Rayne for years, and he couldn’t recall ever seeing Rayne look at another person with such perfect trust and devotion. It was humbling.
“There is no but. You get hurt, you learn from it, and you don’t repeat your mistakes.” Eno rubbed his thumb along Rayne’s jaw to the point of his chin. “You’re amazing no matter what you’re doing. You could be staring down kings, throwing knives at assassins, or taking on gods. Everything you do astounds me.”
“Then why did you want to leave me behind?” Rayne’s voice trembled, and Eno’s heart was on the verge of shattering. How had he not realized that his opinion meant that much to Rayne? He couldn’t believe it was even possible. Rayne counseled kings and ministers. He was wooed by a prince. Eno was no one. A sword and a life to be given in service.
Eno cupped Rayne’s face, forcing him to look up at him. “Baby, you could be the deadliest man in all of Thia, and I would still want to keep you far from harm. I can’t help but want to keep you safe. I never meant for you to question your abilities.” His thumb brushed over Rayne’s plump bottom lip. “I’m so damn proud of you. You saved the Crown Prince of Caspagir and kept yourself safe.”
“Eno,” Rayne whispered, and it was a siren song. But as Rayne pushed to his feet, he winced, his left hand moving to cover his side.
“It still hurts?” Eno covered Rayne’s hand with his own and he stepped closer so that barely an inch of space separated them. His lover hesitated and then finally nodded. Eno rewarded that confession with a light kiss to the side of Rayne’s neck just below his ear. Rayne shivered, sending a thrill through Eno. “Can I see it?”
When Rayne nodded, Eno stepped back and unbuttoned Rayne’s dark-blue shirt. Along with the woodsy scent that danced around Rayne, the man had grabbed a couple of his suits before leaving Stormbreak. This shirt was a loss, though, with a big slit in the side and stained with his blood. Today, he’d skipped the tie.
With exquisite care, he pushed the shirt over Rayne’s shoulders and down his arms, allowing it to flutter to the floor. Rayne’s breaths sped up, but he remained perfectly still as Eno’s gaze slid along his chest, inspecting flawless porcelain skin. All the bruises from their previous battles were gone, but his ribs protruded too much. They’d eaten well while on the ship, but Rayne wasn’t regaining lost weight as quickly as the rest of them. Just another sign that he was pushing himself too hard.
Fingers skimmed down his sternum and over Rayne’s heart as it raced under his touch to swirl through the whisper of hair at his belly button. Eno finally dragged his eyes over to look at the remnants of the slash on Rayne’s left side. He’d seen it when Caelan had jerked Rayne’s shirt aside to heal him. It hadn’t been bad. The knife had been small, and the assassin hadn’t gotten the chance to drag it across Rayne’s body to inflict more damage. But blood had soaked Rayne’s shirt and pants, painting his stomach bright red.
The wound was now a slightly puckered, angry red line on Rayne’s side from where Caelan had forced the two sides together. Eno dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around Rayne’s hips. Leaning in, he pressed a light kiss to his side, just below the start of the cut. A hand landed on his head, fingers threading so gently through his dark hair. Not stopping him. Rayne was simply holding him close as Eno kissed his way up the cut.