The Betrayal of Rhiad

Part 2

Rankin needed to clean his damn windows, Caledon thought sourly as he tried to see through the dirt and smoke-filmed glass. How in the hell was Caledon supposed to keep an eye on his newfound interest if he couldn't even see him? Leaning against the side of the neighboring mercantile, he stretched his neck to better see this latest interloper on Hadrian's table. Caledon scowled. All he could make out of the man was his grin, which was entirely too suggestive for Caledon's tastes. The man would have to go.

Before he could straighten away from the wall, a hand caught his sleeve.

"Don't go causing trouble you don't need," Tye warned jovially. "You just met him. He might not be worth it."

Caledon shook his head. "He's worth it. I'd stab you in the back for a chance with him."

Tye pretended shock. "Me? I always suspected our friendship was thin, but not that thin. Throw me over for a pretty face, eh? I'll remember that the next time you're arse-deep."

"I don't get it, Tye," Caledon mumbled, watching the new mercenary throw yet another leering grin at Hadrian. His hands fisted. "Something about him is getting to me. Like a burr in my shoe that keeps digging deeper with every step. It's like I don't want anyone else in Rhiad to even look his way. He's mine."

Tye whistled, settling against the wall beside Caledon. "Your words frighten me, my friend. You sound as though you're -- dare I suggest it -- falling in love." He clutched at his chest melodramatically. "Surely the great Caledon hasn't succumbed at last to that fabled weakness."

Caledon leveled a glare at him hot enough to melt glass. "Don't make me run you through with my sword. Because believe me, continue on with this subject and I'll do it."

Tye smiled sympathetically. "Aw, come on, Caledon. Nothing wrong with falling in love. Even if it's with, well, a him." His eyes swung to the window Caledon was trying to stare through. "Granted, a very pretty him, but a him, nonetheless -- "

"Your point?" Caledon said blandly.

The other mercenary shrugged, his expression sobering. "It's just, I've never known you to really care about someone that way. You have a lot of lovers, sure. And I hear you treat them well. But this...Well, it'd be nice to see you have a deeper interest, that's all."

A lot of lovers. That was an understatement. Caledon enjoyed his romps between the sheets. He knew he was a good lover and he enjoyed sharing his talents. Did that make him shallow? Did he care? So what if he never settled down with one person? He had his brothers to carry on the family line. All that was left for him of family duty was to not embarrass them all.

And Hadrian wasn't an embarrassment. Oh, no. He was a prize.

"I'm going to see him tonight," he told Tye, breathing a little easier when he saw the mercenary who had been speaking with Hadrian get up from the table. "This may sound odd, but I get the impression that he doesn't engage in trysts very often."

"No wonder you're hooked," Tye teased. "Always were a sucker for a virgin."

The words sounded vaguely lecherous to Caledon and that bothered him. "It's not just that," he protested. "It's something about him. He's different, he's -- " Why by the gods was he trying to explain himself like some besotted maiden? "Ah, forget it." He pulled out his classic grin. "Once I poke him a few times, I'll probably grow bored with him. It wouldn't be the first time I lost interest after a tumble."

No, not the first time, but he secretly doubted that it would be the case with Hadrian.

If Tye had similar doubts, he kept them to himself. "Yeah, maybe that'll happen. We'll see, huh?" He lightly punched the other man in the shoulder. "Just don't go starting fights over him just yet. That'd be a humiliating way to die, my friend."

"Don't worry," Caledon assured him. His eyes were so intent on Hadrian's latest guest that he didn't even see his friend leave. "I have no intention of dying before I get a taste of him."

~~~~~

By the time Hadrian exited the doors of the Mercenary Guild, Caledon was ready to strangle someone simply to relieve the pressure. If he'd known the other man was going to the Guild, he would have swiftly talked Hadrian out of it. The Mercenary Guild of Rhiad was nothing more than a house of whores. Run by a handful of former soldiers, the Guild hired out men like they were selling prostitutes. When they couldn't find enough mercenaries willing to take the meager cut being offered them, the Guild had no qualms about dragging in drunken wretches to play the part of "skilled swordsmen". As low down the social ladder as knew he was, Caledon still felt able to sneer down at the Guild.

Yet as he trailed Hadrian from a careful distance, Caledon began to reconsider. Hadrian might not even care about such details. Indeed, he hadn't asked a single question about Caledon's skills when he'd inquired about hiring him, which the mercenary found a bit odd. Still, it was an insult to think Caledon might be working alongside common Guild members. He'd have to have a word with Hadrian about that. Even he had his standards.

Unconsciously stepping from shadow to shadow in the deepening twilight, Caledon followed Hadrian to the docks. Hadrian had kept to the main byways of Rhiad during the day, but now he was straying into more questionable territory. A rough crowd typically loitered at the docks, and Caledon could just imagine the sort of reception someone with Hadrian's looks would receive. He kept his hand near the closest dagger.

True enough, as Hadrian paused at the end of a pier, looking out over the purple water, a man approached him. He was a deckhand, by the looks of it, taking a break from maintenance on a small schooner docked alongside the pier. Caledon stepped closer, watching carefully. He didn't want Hadrian to know he was being followed, but he wasn't about to see that pretty face marred, either.

The man said something and reached out to tug on Hadrian's hair. Hadrian turned slowly, looking strangely unconcerned at finding himself cornered by a much larger, stronger man. Caledon kept his weight on the balls of his feet, ready to spring forward at the slightest hint of fear from Hadrian. The deckhand spoke again and continued to fondle the younger man's dark hair.

Hadrian frowned and knocked the hand away. The deckhand growled something, his hand reaching up again. Caledon tensed. But Hadrian remained eerily calm. He said something very quietly and looked straight into the other man's eyes.

The deckhand started, as if confronted by something unexpected, and hastily dropped his hand. Caledon's brows creased. Hadrian didn't move, simply stared at the other man, yet whatever was in his eyes was powerful. The deckhand murmured something then quickly backed away. He turned and stumbled down the pier until he came to the gangplank of his schooner. Caledon watched in confusion as the man scurried into the ship as though an angry mob were on his heels.

Now what, by the gods, had that been?

So thrown aback by what he'd witnessed, he neglected to conceal himself as Hadrian's gaze fell his way. The younger man's look of surprise and pleasure was quickly followed by wariness.

"Are you following me?" he demanded.

Caledon grinned to cover up his uneasiness. "Said I'd watch your back, didn't I?"

"I don't need you to," Hadrian replied impatiently.

"So I see." Caledon nodded towards the schooner. "What was that all about? He acted as though you're the carrier of some particularly foul plague."

Hadrian smiled faintly. "Maybe I am."

The small smile and the attempt at humor surprised Caledon. Hadrian had been too high strung to react this way to him earlier. Perhaps the younger man was becoming more comfortable in his presence. The thought was heartening.

Caledon took a step forward. "I hope you're not contagious," he said easily. Even with the setting sun at his back, the slight widening of Hadrian's eyes was obvious as Caledon closed the gap between them. Caledon reached up and took a strand of dark hair between his fingers, for some reason wanting to mimic the deckhand's movements. Wanting to see if Hadrian's reaction would be the same, perhaps. "Because if you are, and it's transmitted through touch," Caledon murmured, gazing down at the younger man, "we may have a problem."

The grey eyes watched Caledon warily. "Why is that?"

Caledon stroked the silky lock of hair. "Because I want to touch every inch of you."

"You --" Hadrian dropped his eyes, a fierce blush spreading over his cheeks. The length of hair between Caledon's fingers trembled. When had Caledon last made someone tremble without a touch? The reaction made him feel like the land's most potent lover. They hadn't even done anything together yet. What would happen when they did? Caledon's skin broke out in tingles. He vowed to find out even if it killed him.

Hadrian took a step back, his hair slipping from between the mercenary's loose grasp. "Caledon," he began, his tongue struggling around the unfamiliar name, "I don't need you following me. I'm well able to take care of myself."

"Yes, you never answered how you do that." Caledon studied him. "What are you, a mage in disguise? Or worse, a sorcerer?"

Hadrian laughed thinly. "Would that be so bad?"

Caledon thought of his thief friends, Gam and Lio, who had been cursed by a sorcerer. "It would be a considerable disappointment," he replied drolly.

Something passed quickly over Hadrian's face. He looked away before Caledon could positively identify it. Caledon caught a handful of hair again, wanting badly to use the grip to bring the other man closer. But he only cupped the dark strands, letting them pool in his palm like black ink. "You're too fair to be a sorcerer," Caledon declared, rubbing his fingers together over the inkiness. "All the sorcerers I've ever encountered must have inadvertently misused their magick because gods, were they ugly. Hideous, really." He shuddered melodramatically.

Hadrian stared at him a moment, then broke into laughter. "That is the most ignorant thing I have ever heard anyone say," he said around his laughter. "Not all sorcerers are ugly."

"Really?" Caledon said, debating. "Unless you've one to show me who can change my mind, I'm sticking by my opinion. Ogres, all of them."

Smiling, Hadrian shook his head, his hair slipping free of Caledon's light grasp. The mercenary sighed at the loss. Hearing it, Hadrian gave a mystified smile. "I wish I understood the fascination with my hair. So many people seem to want a handful of it."

Caledon cocked a head as if considering. "Because it's clean."

Hadrian's face registered confusion. "What?"

"Well, you don't have lice that I can see. And so far, no fleas...Quite an oddity in Rhiad, in case you hadn't noticed." His smile matched Hadrian's. "I consider myself an exception to the lot, of course."

Hadrian's light laugher followed Caledon as he moved past the younger man to the end of the pier. As though it were something he did everyday, Caledon sat down upon the wood, letting his legs dangle over the side.

He could feel Hadrian hesitate beside him, uncertain whether to join him or continue looking down. "So that's your explanation?" the younger man asked. "You've a fascination with cleanliness?"

Caledon tilted his head back, resting its weight on his shoulders as he looked up. "You've hair the color of shadow, Hadrian. I'm rather intimate with the darkness myself. I'm drawn to it." And to you. Their eyes held for a heartbeat and Caledon thought he saw a darkening of the grey depths. "Come down here," he said, facing the water again, "you're hurting my neck."

Caledon gazed out at the rippling waters of Blackfell Bay, at the ribbons of purple and mauve that twisted over the surface. He realized that he was holding his breath in anticipation of what Hadrian might do. He relaxed as Hadrian carefully lowered himself beside the mercenary, a good arm's length away.

"I've heard that my mother had hair so light it was nearly white," Hadrian said tentatively.

"That explains your complexion," the mercenary replied, letting his eyes drift over the other man's pale skin.

A stubborn frown creased the younger man's lips. "It makes me odd," Hadrian argued, kicking his feet over the water. "People stare at me."

Caledon shook his head, amazed at the other's naiveté. Hadrian sounded more than sheltered, he sounded cloistered. Though he was the son of a wealthy land owner and surely the target of many a female hoping to make a good marriage, Caledon would wager his next meal that Hadrian had never even been kissed. Now there was a travesty worth amending. "People stare at you, yes. But not for the reasons you think, love."

Hadrian ducked his head in embarrassment. Caledon was entranced.

"May I -- may I ask you something?" Hadrian said hesitantly.

Caledon tried to catch his eye, but the grey gaze was skittish. He turned to study the sunset instead. "Of course."

Without the pressure of Caledon's gaze, Hadrian was able to look at the mercenary's profile. "Why are you here? Why ... with me?"

Because you are the most fey creature I have ever met in my life, Caledon thought to himself. You have a beauty to weaken my knees and yet you are unaware of it yourself.

But such words might have scared the other man away, so he said instead, "I find you refreshing. The work that I do can be ugly and dark. It's enough to make a man lose interest in that which used to make him happy. You, on the other hand, are the opposite of all of that. At the risk of sounding like I'm courting you" -- which I am -- "you are the light that someone like me, yearns for."

He felt Hadrian's eyes roam his face like shy fingers. "If being a mercenary bothers you so much, why do you do it? You seem intelligent and your skills with weaponry must be considerable. Why not something else?"

Caledon shrugged, about to say something simple and only half-true to end this particular topic, then hesitated. "Do you really want to know?" He turned to look at the other man.

Hadrian nodded. "I do.

But Caledon shouldn't have met the other's eyes, because now he was able to see the earnestness in those wide grey pools. Those eyes wanted to know Caledon's secrets. They encouraged him to shed his concealing cloak of humor and admit that being a mercenary had not been his choice in life. That it had been something done out of a painful sense of righteousness. It was a righteousness that burned within him yet, but it grew dimmer with each morally questionable job he accepted. I do it for the coin, had always been his stock response, thrown out with a disarming grin. But Hadrian's eyes didn't accept that. They wanted him to tell that truth. And the truth was that Caledon had taken up the sword long ago to conquer an injustice. Now, he wielded it only because he did not know what else to do. Though he would never admit it aloud, in his heart, he feared he was no better than those who fought for the Guild.

But to admit that to Hadrian was pointless. There were other ways to woo a potential lover than to resort to the cold, hard truth, no matter how well it might be received.

He reached out and wrapped dark hair around his fingers. The touch made Hadrian draw back some, like a tide that had reached too far up the beach. The demands of his eyes retreated as well.

"I haven't the imagination for anything better," Caledon told him lightly. "What I do keeps me in ale and whores and that's as much as I could ask for."

Disappointment shadowed Hadrian's eyes. "That's not what you were going to say," he said softly.

Caledon stared at him, feeling unexpectedly vulnerable. He didn't like it. The corner of his mouth twitched into a familiar smirk. "Ale and whores, love, really are all I care about. I'm very easy to please." He let his eyes roam the younger man's body. "You'll find that out soon enough, I think."

Hadrian frowned slightly. "I -- I need to take my supper," he told Caledon, rising to his feet. "Please don't follow me. I don't need a guard."

Caledon dropped his hand. His fingers felt rough and scratchy against his palm now that the silk of dark hair was gone. "If it bothers you, I'll stay away," he said quietly. He felt as though he had made a mistake just now, and that bothered him. What was it about Hadrian that left him so unsettled?

At the mercenary's capitulation, Hadrian's shoulders sagged slightly with relief. "Thank you."

Caledon tilted his head back once more, his easy smile in place as though it had never left. "You're welcome."

The hint of a shy smile ghosted Hadrian's lips. He moved forward to leave.

"Please see me tonight, Hadrian."

The younger man's step faltered. More nervous than he liked, Caledon turned to stare at the melting sun that was now but a sliver of gold on the horizon.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Caledon let the gold fill his eyes. "Please, Hadrian."

He hadn't meant to make it sound so entreating, but the inadvertant honesty worked as a lie might not have.

"Perhaps," Hadrian murmured. He said it quickly, as though needing to say it before his resolve left him.

Caledon watched the sun sink, listening to the other man hurry away. He sighed and closed his eyes. In his heart weighed something he had not felt for many seasons. It was hope. It felt odd.

~~~~~

He'd wasted his coin on supper, Hadrian thought. He should have known better than to try to eat while his stomach churned with anxiety. He hadn't been able to force more than a tiny morsel of bread between his lips before he'd given up the attempt. Ah, well. How was he to know? He'd never felt this way before in his life.

The Fickle Harper Inn was a muted hum behind him. Occasionally, the door would open and the loud sounds of conversation and the flute would spill out into the empty street. But mostly it was quiet as Hadrian stood before the doors of the stable. Just the tiny rustle of rodents scurrying through the hay and the pounding of his heartbeat, surely the loudest sound in Rhiad.

He didn't know what he was doing here. If his father found out, well...it would be unpleasant. This trip to Rhiad wasn't supposed to be a time for fulfilling personal curiosities, no matter how demanding.

But you may never get this chance again.

And that was the reason he was here. Caledon's interest in him. It was so inconceivable to Hadrian that he knew he'd be a fool to pass up this rare opportunity. Not to mention the fact that Hadrian couldn't fight his own attraction for the mercenary. Caledon was the most handsome man he had ever seen. But that didn't completely explain the attraction. There was more to the man. Regret behind the bravado. Caledon had been close to sharing a secret with him and Hadrian had felt special because of that. He wanted to learn more.

Learn more of a carnal nature, too. Yes, the members of the Order who had raised him had taught him the particulars of congress between a man and a woman. But what about between a man and a man? And although he understood the physical mechanics of the act -- which made him hot to think of it -- he hadn't comprehended the feeling that came with it. Now, though, he was beginning to.

It was that wild, fluttery feeling in his stomach. It was the strange surge of blood to his lower body that left him feeling faint and exhilarated at the same time. It wasn't love. He understood that love was an emotion he might never come across in his life. But what he was feeling was something almost as potent. It was lust.

Lust made his hand shake as he pushed the doors aside and peered into the darkness of the stables. It made his breath short as he slid the doors shut behind him and waited for his eyes to adjust. He was scared. He was excited. It was all he could do not to jump out of his skin when Caledon's voice drifted over him from out of the darkness.

"I was afraid you wouldn't show."

So was I.

A hand found in him the dark, the same calloused palm that had cradled his hand earlier in the day. It now enfolded his own in a familiarity that made Hadrian's cheeks hot. He let himself be led to the end of the stables. At the last stall, Caledon opened the door and gently tugged Hadrian inside. A black mare occupied the stall, snorting softly.

"This is Isaleyn," the mercenary said fondly. "My little girl." Wide cracks in the stable walls allowed enough moonlight inside to highlight Caledon's profile as he leaned in towards his horse. "Isa, love, this is Hadrian."

Caledon brought their hands up and pressed Hadrian's palm to the silky neck of the horse. The mercenary's hand settled atop his.

The feel of the horse was reassuring to Hadrian. When he started to stroke her neck, Caledon's hand followed him, his larger fingers slipping between Hadrian's. It was oddly intimate, but not in a way that left him feeling uneasy. It was simply... nice.

"She's lovely," Hadrian murmured, his hand tingling from the contrasts of Isa's cool, sleek hair and Caledon's warm, rough skin. He smiled when Isa swung her head around, a brown eye rolling towards him as if she'd understood the compliment. "How long have you had her?"

"Since she was a filly. She's my baby, aren't you, girl?" The coo of Caledon's voice might have sounded humorous under different circumstances. Hadrian found himself becoming slightly jealous.

"You've taken wonderful care of her," Hadrian said. "She is a prize, truly."

He felt the mercenary shrug. "Yes, well, as much as I love her, it wouldn't do for others to see me trying to sneak her into my bed," he said with a grin. "A horse is only good for so much. Then you need to look elsewhere for your company."

This last was said in a lowered voice, close to Hadrian's ear. A tremble in Isa's skin was transmitted through his hand to Caledon's. Or was it the other way around? Hadrian was beginning to grow a little dizzy.

"Is this -- is this all you wanted to show me, then?" he asked faintly.

The hand disappeared from atop his. Hadrian shut his eyes, regretting his forwardness. He didn't know how to play this game, obviously. Should he have said nothing and allowed the other man to control the conversation? He didn't know. Yet again, he cursed his ignorance in such matters.

But Caledon hadn't left him. In fact, the mercenary was closer than before, pressing up against Hadrian's back. Shocked, Hadrian could only continue to stroke the horse unthinkingly as an arm slid around his waist from behind.

"I'm trying to make you comfortable," Caledon murmured against his ear. Hadrian bit his lip as soft lips hummed against the outer shell of his ear. "I know you're inexperienced. I don't want to scare you off by moving too fast. I thought meeting Isa would be a nice start to getting to know me better."

Hadrian summoned up a touch of indignation. "I'm not as green ... as green as you think." He tried not to moan when the lips at his ear drifted lower to his neck.

"No?" Caledon smiled against his skin. "Then does that mean someone has done this to you before?" Scorching heat seared the side of Hadrian's neck as Caledon opened his mouth and ran his tongue over Hadrian's skin.

Hadrian nearly jumped out of the other man's arms in shock. Oh, gods! his frazzled brain cried. What is he doing? But he liked it. Oh, yes. So he forced himself to stammer out a panted, "Y-yes. Of course I've .... oh, of course I've -- someone's done that to me."

The heated tip of Caledon's tongue ran a sinuous trail up and down the side of his neck. When it slid down the junction between his neck and shoulder, Hadrian's fingers and toes curled. He had to force the digits flat upon Isa's flesh. He could feel himself shaking as Caledon continued to lick him. Lick him. By the gods, he'd never imagined anyone doing that to him. It felt so good, that sleek wetness tickling him and yet not. The sheer wetness of Caledon's tongue and it's odd firm strength against Hadrian's neck were making the blood drain from his head and fall to his nether parts.

Caledon's breath cooled the moisture on Hadrian's skin. "And I suppose this is nothing new to you, either?" Sharp teeth sunk into the flesh of Hadrian's shoulder, right where it met his neck. Hadrian gasped, then bit his lip to cover up the sound.

His vision was going blurry. He tried to concentrate on the sight of his hand, pressed almost desperately against the side of Caledon's horse. Just brush Isa. Brush Isa. He made himself move. Watching his own pale hand stroke up and down the dark hair of the horse helped to ground him somewhat.

"You've done all of this, then?" Caledon asked in a husked whisper.

Oh, but that voice threatened to undo him again. "Yes," Hadrian panted, feeling himself shiver despite the flush of heat that was blazing throughout his body. "All of ... gods, all of it."

Caledon's head lifted from Hadrian's neck. The arm around his waist squeezed almost reassuringly, then dropped away. Hadrian's breath hitched with disappointment, but Caledon continued to speak, echoing his words with actions.

"So if I turned you around," the mercenary continued to whisper as he gently urged Hadrian to turn to face him, "and pressed you back against my horse, giving you nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide" -- his grin showed whitely in the dim lighting -- "you wouldn't fight me because you've done this before." Hadrian stared up at him helplessly, knowing his face was aflame and that he was panting too loudly to disguise it. His body was erect with newfound need and he ached -- oh, how he ached.

"Yes," Hadrian whispered breathlessly.

Caledon stepped closer and the space between them vanished. Backed against the unyielding body of the mercenary's horse, Hadrian had no where to go. He found he wanted it that way.

Fingertips glided down the side of his cheek. He shut his eyes, trembling and not caring that Caledon would be able to feel it. He tensed in expectation when Caledon leaned forward. But all the mercenary did was rub his roughly stubbled cheek against Hadrian's, letting his breath fan the younger man's ear.

"You're more experienced than I thought."

Hadrian hesitated, then finally did what he'd longed to do since meeting Caledon. He raised his hands in the darkness and lightly grasped the other man's shoulders. Muscles as firm as stone shifted beneath his palms. The touch made his fingers buzz with the need to feel more. But he was afraid. Afraid of what he wanted, afraid of asking for it. Caledon calmly erased his fears. The older man reached up and urged Hadrian's hands behind the back of the mercenary's neck. Hadrian smiled weakly in the darkness. This was so much better. Now he could feel the heat of Caledon's skin, and he burned, just as Hadrian did.

"Since you've done it all before," Caledon murmured in a low, throaty purr against Hadrian's cheek, "you won't mind if I do this."

And Caledon leaned back and kissed him.

Kissed. Never before in his life, and never again would it be like this. Hadrian knew it in his soul. He whimpered, not caring that it revealed his inexperience, or his need and desperation. This was magickal. Caledon was kissing him so tenderly... Hadrian had never dreamed it would be so soft, so gentle that it left him in a quivering puddle at the other man's feet. Lips coaxed his own. Utterly trusting, he opened to Caledon, allowing a curious tongue to slip forward and enter his mouth in an intimate joining.

He moaned at the tender invasion, losing the strength to stand. Caledon caught him, pressing him back against Isa. Even the great horse's immense heartbeat could not drown out the one stampeding wildly in Hadrian's chest. His senses were spinning. He could hardly breathe. It was almost frightening how quickly and completely he was losing control of his body and yet it was exciting. To give in to Caledon's knowledgeable caresses, to surrender himself to the other man's confidence, knowing that he was being led to a wondrous place ... Never let this end, Hadrian thought dizzily, never.

Caledon's tongue stroked over his own. It pumped across that wet flesh in an elemental rhythm that made Hadrian tighten his legs around a raging, pulsing need. Timidly, Hadrian let his tongue entangle with the other man's and when he did, Caledon moaned into his mouth. Hadrian nearly exploded at the sound. Caledon's passion. For him. Because of him. Hadrian's own moan eclipsed the other man's as he clutched helplessly at the back of Caledon's neck. He was so weak he feared he might collapse.

Caledon's mouth tore away from his to whisper, "Breathe, love. Breathe. I've got you." The hands around Hadrian's waist stroked him comfortingly. "You're doing fine, Hadrian. You're beautiful ... so beautiful like this."

"Oh, Caledon," Hadrian panted. "I've never -- this is ..." He couldn't finish the thought. There were no words to describe what he felt.

"I know, love, gods do I know." Caledon made a sound that to Hadrian's muddled senses sounded like quiet laughter. "Who would've believed it'd be like this, eh?" So low Hadrian almost missed it, the mercenary breathed, "Who could've guessed?"

Then he was back to kissing Hadrian again and there was no room left in Hadrian's consciousness for anything else. He held Caledon more boldly now, urging their mouths to mate more tightly. He wanted to climb into Caledon. He wanted to merge with the mercenary so that all Hadrian felt for the rest of his life was this.

All of the blood, all of the nerves in Hadrian's body collected in his mouth and in his groin. He didn't think it could get any better. It was impossible. But Caledon proved him wrong. One of the mercenary's hands slid from around his back. Hadrian was suddenly as sharply aware of the placement of that hand as he would have been a knife at his throat. As Caledon continued to plunder Hadrian's mouth, the mercenary's hand slid down the front of the younger man's stomach. Hadrian's eyes opened, his breath stuttered. He suddenly knew another way in which this could be better. But would Caledon dare?

He would. Hadrian cried out against the other man's lips when a hot palm cupped him through his breeches. Skilled fingers curled around his swollen length, making Hadrian pushed forward mindlessly, moaning. Oh, gods, oh, gods, oh, gods. He clenched his eyes shut, no longer able to kiss Caledon back as passion flooded his system. Caledon rubbed him through the cloth, making him grow hotter, harder, until Hadrian was only standing because Caledon held him up.

"That's it, Hadrian. Let go for me. Feel it."

I could die right now.

It was becoming too much. Caledon was kissing his slack lips, murmuring endearments. Hadrian thought his entire body might burst from the too-powerful sensations drowning him. It was beginning to resemble pain. Then Caledon pulled his hand away.

"No ..." Hadrian whimpered, opening his eyes.

Caledon smiled down at him, the look on his face pleased. But Hadrian found slight comfort in the mercenary's swift breathing. "I need to slow you down, Hadrian. You're like a wild horse running loose." Caledon bent and brushed his lips over Hadrian's. "But don't worry. I'm more than up to the challenge of taming you. We've a long night ahead of us, love. This is only the beginning."

Hadrian shuddered at the words. He let his eyes drift shut as Caledon met his mouth again. Only the beginning. Even if Caledon's words failed to be true, it wouldn't matter. Caledon had already shown him enough wonders to last his lifetime. In the darkness of the stables, with the aromas of hay and horse sharpening his senses and Isa chuffing softly behind him, Hadrian returned Caledon's kiss eagerly. He would never forget this night, he vowed. When he returned to Shard's Point Isle and found himself once again walking the cold, somber halls of the castle, he would pull out this memory and relive it. Because tonight, Caledon had shown him that there was another means of summoning magick beyond that which he had been taught. There was the magick to be found in a kiss.