Page List


Font:  

Eno squeezed his eyes closed as his heart broke for his king and his friend. This was not the Caelan he knew. It didn’t matter if he was a god now. This was not Caelan. For nearly a year, the young man had been pushed, tortured, and suffered too much loss. He was shattering in front of them, breaking apart under pressure no one could survive.

They had to save him. Eno refused to believe it was too late.

“What about the villagers?”

“No one has returned.” Drayce’s dull and weary voice filled the cottage.

They both jerked up to see their young friend standing in the open doorway, shoulders slumped, and looking much closer to his actual dragon age rather than the twenty-three-year-old he appeared to be most of the time.

“No one at all?” Rayne demanded.

Drayce shook his head as he took a couple of shuffling steps into the house. “No one. There’s a trail of bodies—all killed by animals—to the cave and just past the waterfall. I didn’t follow it much more than that. Some might have gotten away, but they have no supplies. Do they even know of a safe place to go?”

“The people of Hidden Falls have survived in the Ordas for years,” Eno reminded him. “Many were born here. If anyone has a shot of surviving this place, they do.”

Drayce grunted but didn’t sound convinced.

“Cael?” Rayne inquired softly, but Drayce only shook his head.

“Lie down. Get some sleep,” Eno ordered him. “We all know Cael will come back when he’s ready. He’s not leaving us, and he’s not going to get physically hurt.” Drayce continued to stand in the middle of the room, staring at the floor covered in colorfully woven rugs. “Do it, Drayce. You’re no good to him in your current state.”

The dragon finally lifted his gaze enough to glare at him. “Asshole,” he muttered, but without any of his usual heat or playfulness.

“Yeah, and this asshole is going to kick your ass as soon as you get some sleep.”

Drayce crossed the room to the packs. He settled his under his head as a pillow and wrapped both of his arms around Caelan’s as if it could serve as a replacement for his fiancé.

But Eno didn’t relax until he heard the breathing for both Rayne and Drayce even out with sleep.

Caelan would return.

Eno had a feeling that their little brother couldn’t face them yet. Not after what he’d done. Not when he was consumed with the fear that he was truly becoming the God of Death.

EIGHTEEN

Eno Bevyn

Eno dozed for a while and woke to find Rayne still tightly wrapped around him, his soft breathing brushing against his neck. His long body was slack, as if exhaustion had finally drained him of the tension that perpetually hummed through his frame.

Engaged.

He was fucking engaged.

He mentally rolled his eyes at himself. That had to go down in history as the world’s worst proposal. He hadn’t meant it as one, but the way Rayne had looked at him, as if Eno had just handed him all of his hopes and dreams on a silver platter, there was nothing in the world that could convince him to take his words back.

Marrying Rayne and spending his life with the man was all he could ask for. He’d wanted to romance him. Someone like Rayne deserved fine wine, white tablecloths, and perfect red roses. He deserved a ring and Eno on one knee.

Eno bit on his lips. He could see Rayne’s glare in his mind.

No, his sweet, stubborn fiancé would be the first to scold him, pointing out that the only thing he needed in all of Thia was Eno’s love.

Well, he had that. No worries there.

Once this madness was over and they were home, Eno would find a way to give Rayne the romance they’d missed on the first proposal. He’d keep proposing until Rayne finally promised to love, honor, and cherish him for the rest of their days.

A deep snore rose from the other side of the room, and Eno glanced over to see Drayce curled up in a ball on the floor, his body wrapped tightly around Caelan’s backpack.

But no Caelan.

Moving so very slowly, Eno eased out from under Rayne and to his feet. He was shaky and maybe a touch light-headed, but considering how close he’d come to dying the day before, he was in damn good shape. He snagged one of Rayne’s knives from the bedside table and stepped into the late-morning sunlight.

A twinge of worry had him pausing just past the threshold. He didn’t feel great leaving Rayne and Drayce alone while they slept, but if Cael had cleared as much of the forest as Drayce said, nothing should be coming to disturb them.

Except maybe for a god or goddess. Of course, if Lore or Zyros appeared, there wasn’t a lot he could do about it.


Tags: Jocelynn Drake Godstone Saga Fantasy