The sound of shoes crunching over gravel heralded Jasper’s approach. It was never wise to sneak up on a person wielding a wickedly sharp blade, and Dorian was strung as tightly as a bowstring. He was sure the tension in his shoulders and down his spine was painfully obvious to Jasper’s keen eyes.
“You know,” Jasper said, without waiting for Dorian to gather the courage to meet his gaze, “I’ve watched you come out here every day since Caius was taken and run yourself completely ragged.” The air by Dorian’s shoulder felt disturbed, as if a hand had reached for his arm only to pull back at the last minute. “I know this is hard for you. Hell, it’s hard for me to watch you punishing yourself like this. And I know I’m not always great when it comes to dealing with feelings and all that messy emotional nonsense, but I’d make an exception for you.” A soft sigh. “You can talk to me. I hope you know that.”
“There isn’t much to say.” Dorian went to retrieve the supplies—a rag, some oil, a whetstone to keep his blade sharp—he’d tucked away in a corner of the courtyard. “I was his guard, and I failed to guard him.”
Jasper wormed his way between Dorian and the wall he was stubbornly facing. Dorian took half a step back before he realized how cowardly that made him look. He held his ground, which put Jasper less than a foot from him. It was the closest they had been, physically, in weeks. Dorian had pulled away from the comfort he knew he would find with Jasper. Strange, to know that he would find such comfort in someone belonging to a race he had thought he’d hated. But he didn’t deserve it. Not until he’d made things right.
Their proximity was not lost on Jasper, who looked at him through half-lidded eyes. “Dorian.”
“Jasper.”
“Talk to me. You need to talk to someone.”
Dorian tossed the rag to the ground with a frustrated growl. “There’s nothing to say.”
With that, Dorian turned on his heel and made his way toward the castle. He didn’t know where he was going; he didn’t much care. He just needed to get away from Jasper. Away from the hurt in those golden eyes, from the powerful punch of longing that punctuated each beat of Dorian’s heart.
Rapid footsteps echoed behind him. “Dorian!” Jasper called out. “Wait.”
Dorian paused, squeezing his eyes shut. He had evaded Jasper’s direct attentions for weeks, but he knew it was only a matter of time before Jasper made their confrontation inescapable. Dorian was surprised it had taken him this long. Perhaps the delay had been Jasper’s attempt to respect Dorian’s obvious despair.
“You can’t run from me forever, you know.” Jasper stopped right in front of Dorian. Another evasion would require Dorian to step around him. He didn’t want to. Not really. Not even if the thought of enjoying the slightest warmth of Jasper’s nearness made the clawed monster inside him roll around in his guilt like a pig in slop.
Dorian raised his eye to meet Jasper’s. “I’m surprised you let me run this long.”
“You should be,” Jasper said. “I’m not known for my patience.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Dorian admitted, even though it was a lie. You rotten coward. He knew exactly what Jasper wanted him to say. He just wasn’t strong or good enough to say it.
“There’s plenty I’d like to hear you say,” Jasper said. “Sweet nothings, dirty limericks, raunchy confessions. The list goes on.”
“Jasper—”
“But the thing I most want is an explanation.” Jasper held up a hand before Dorian could argue. “I know things have been hard for you. Losing Caius was…rough.”
“Rough,” Dorian repeated, with a huff of humorless laughter. “That is a gross underestimation.”
Jasper plowed on as if Dorian hadn’t spoken. “But something happened between us, and even if it was just that one night and it’ll never be anything more”—his expression flickered as if he was fighting not to betray the intensity of his emotion—“I want to hear you say it. You can’t just ignore it. Please don’t ignore it.”
Please don’t ignore me was what Dorian heard. Something had happened between them. And no matter how desperately he tried, Dorian couldn’t ignore it. He replayed those stolen moments in his head every time he closed his eye. The feel of Jasper’s lips against his, moving with a tentativeness that had surprised Dorian. The softness of the feathers he’d run his fingers through as his hand cradled the back of Jasper’s neck. The tingle of Jasper’s breath against Dorian’s neck. Each and every moment, preserved with stunning clarity, as if not a single second had passed.
Dorian’s heart twisted in new and interesting and torturous ways.
“The last thing I want to do is hurt you,” Dorian said, and he meant it. He meant those words just as he’d meant the words he’d said to Caius so many times.
“Then talk to me.”
“And say what?” Dorian snapped. Jasper took a step back, and Dorian’s regret was instant. He was angry, but Jasper had done nothing to deserve being the target of that anger. Other than exist. Dorian sucked in a fortifying breath. “I’m sorry. I just—”
“I can’t understand if you don’t tell me what’s going on in that head of yours,” Jasper said, reclaiming his place in front of Dorian.
Dorian let a full minute tick by while he measured his words. “When I was with you, I didn’t think about anything else. I didn’t want to.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” Jasper asked.
Dorian shook his head. “No. Yes. I don’t know. All I know is that I was enjoying myself and Caius was suffering and I wasn’t there for him. I should have been. But I didn’t want to; I wanted to be with you.”
Jasper pulled his lower lip between his teeth. Dorian resisted the urge to close the space between them and pull that lip into his own mouth.
“And now you’re punishing yourself for that,” Jasper said.
Dorian sighed. “I suppose I am.” He didn’t like the way it sounded when phrased like that, but the truth of it was impossible to deny. “It’s just…I feel so powerless. I swore an oath to protect Caius, and now I don’t know where he is or how to get him back or if he’s even still alive. Every waking moment I think about him being held captive by a sadistic monster, and it’s killing me.”
“Did it make you feel better to say that?” Jasper asked.
“No.”
This time, Jasper didn’t stop himself from laying a hand on Dorian’s arm. His touch was electric. Dorian’s bicep twitched under the gentle pressure. But he didn’t move back. He didn’t push Jasper away. He didn’t want to. Gods, he was weak.
“You’ll find him,” Jasper said. “Echo told me she was working on a way to track him down, and that girl is as stubborn as an ox.”
“It isn’t Echo’s responsibility,” Dorian said. “It’s mine.”
Jasper pinched the bridge of his nose. “You aren’t a one-man army, Dorian. You don’t have to bear this alone. That’s all I’m trying to say. Look, you said your contacts inside Wyvern’s Keep had spotted Caius, right?”
“Two weeks ago. Then Tanith left with him and there’s been no sign of him since.”
“Okay, well, say we get confirmation that he’s there,” Jasper said. “What are you going to do? Storm the keep? All by yourself?”
“If I have to.”
“Dorian—”