Far From Home Two: The Monster's Heir-- a M/M/M fantasy romance

14-- Tristan

SAGE—

I woke with Llyric wrapped completely around me. His hands were dug down between my thighs— not sexually, but for warmth. Even knowing that, my body reacted and I was soon panting down at him. The night before, he had been so exhausted from the travels he had fallen into the blankets, waited until I moved in next to him, and fallen asleep curled up against my side within minutes. There was no cuddling or temptation. I had been tired from the hours in the saddle, so I too had fallen to sleep fairly quickly, with his little breaths to lull me to my dreams.

I began to pull away, trying to move gently so he wouldn't wake, but he made a little chuffing, whimpering noise that drew me to a halt. He dug his face into my neck and I relaxed back, resigned to being stuck that way, in absolute uncomfortable agony, until he woke. That was, until I felt a brush of his teeth along my pulse point, making my cock jump.

I jerked and then huffed in frustration at my own lack of self-control when it came to this man.

"Sweet boy," I whispered, making him whimper and dig himself further into my body, seeking my warmth. "It's time to wake. C'mon."

I dragged him up and out of the pallet, chuckling as he stayed limp and whining, his voice cracking from disuse with even the little noises. The fact that he could make noise brought me hope, for it told me that he likely could speak, when he chose to.

We broke camp and set out just as the sun began to crest above the horizon. Ember said not a word to either me or Llyric, but even I noticed the care he showed when he brought the both of us bowls of porridge. He brushed it off as something he did nonchalantly, but Llyric and I exchanged a glance when he proceeded to sit and eat without showing anyone else the same care.

Most of the day brought the same behavior from Ember. I stayed near the cart Llyric rode in with Brin, Al'iya, and the children. I would rather he rode with me, but my stallion's endurance aside, Llyric's body was still weak enough to warrant riding in the cart. I also liked that he was near the Akaran healer, so she could ensure he was resting and healing as he should be.

I could tell Al'iya had the same concerns regarding Llyric I did. He didn't act the way the children did, and not in a good way that showed he was maybe not as traumatized as they were. He let them crawl all over him, never getting upset when they put their feet or bony elbows into sensitive places, and rocked them to sleep through their naps. But if anyone but the children or I and Ember neared him, he flinched heavily and shrank back. He hated to be touched as much as Tristan, but there was something about the way he seemed to almost zone out when touched that worried me.Tristan at least reacted, while Llyric seemed to pull into himself and almost endure the touch, though he hated it.

Both of the nights he slept in my arms, he never woke once. As if just the skin-to-skin contact kept his nightmares at bay. But he woke screaming from a nap around midmorning, and his terrified shaking didn't calm for hours.

His discomfort under the sun was also painfully obvious. I was grateful the cart was covered, for whenever he had to leave the shade he flinched and squinted and his delicate, pale skin was already burned red from what little sun he had endured. It made it apparent he hadn't been out of that damn dungeon in years. I feared knowing for sure how long.

His other differences from the children were marked— specifically in his mannerisms. The children had been abused, yes, but in the dark of night, hidden and in secret. The rest of the time, they'd had nannies, tutors, three meals a day, laughter, playtime in the sun. They were healthy, if only on the surface. They had social interactions with each other, the adults set to care for them.

Llyric was awkward, didn't know how to act or react to things I had never even considered. Like his difficulty eating with utensils. His complete disregard for nudity or personal space. The first time we stopped for a break, he had begun to relieve himself right outside the cart. I'd had to grab his arm and lead him back behind bushes as the Akarans around us watched in shock and pity. The boy's embarrassment was clear, but he never complained when he made a social blunder. Only nodded at my explanations and tried to learn, with a furrowed brow and questioning glances.