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

16-- Starwind Tribe

EMBER—

The Warprize may as well have yelled across the hall that he had decided to cut off Llyric's head for how the boy acted. Stepping back rapidly, he tripped, caught by Sage's embrace.

"Whoa there, sweetheart," Sage mumbled. "You alright?"

Llyric pulled his shirt— my shirt— halfway across his face, up to his nose, his eyes wide and staring the Warprize down with stubborn refusal leaking across his expression. He shook his head, his legs trembling.

"You can't wear naught but my and Ember's clothes forever, sweetheart," Sage whispered softly, his arms pulling the smaller man back against his chest.

Llyric shook his head again and met my eyes with pleading in his.

"Just a pair of leggings, please, Warprize," I said, shrugging when the Warprize looked up at me with surprise. I couldn't blame him. I wasn't sure if I had ever spoken to him directly. "He can continue to wear my shirts if that's what makes him feel safe, but the leggings are just far too close to falling off."

The relief on Llyric's face, and the gratitude in Sage's made my chest warm, clenching as I studied the men, before turning my back on them.

"Chief," Al'iya called from the doorway into the kitchen. "May I speak with you a moment? Bring Warlord Geir, please."

With raised eyebrows, both Geir and I followed the hedge witch back through the kitchen and into her workroom. There were counters and shelves along the walls, interspersed with windows to let in sunlight no matter what time of day. An examination table lay off to one side, herbs and climbing plants hung from the ceiling, and a cold hearth stood near the doorway that led out into her garden.

"What's wrong, Al'iya?" I asked with no little trepidation.

"Nothing. Sorry to worry you, I'm only concerned, and maybe a little nervous." I nearly laughed at the picture of Al'iya being nervous about anything, but I managed to keep my face straight.

"I want to take in the boy Tristan. You're not likely to find him a home, unlike the younger children— not only is he El'kahrian, but he is almost a man, not quite a child any longer. His parents sold him to the Monster, so he has no one to go back to. I'll adopt him, and train him as a hedge witch."

"You sense power in him?" Geir asked with one eyebrow raised. It was an annoyance of mine, the way he was convinced his El'kahrian mate had strange magic within him. He had become something like obsessed with learning more about what he called "hidden El'kahrian magic".

"Not much, but yes. It's diluted and pale— a strange trait of El'kahrian magic, I've noticed— but it's there. And with some use and nurturing, it will grow. This will also give me a chance to keep an eye on his mental and spiritual health as well, as he deals with his traumas."

"Did you hear him? When he was talking to Llyric?"

"No," Al'iya answered with a shake of her head. "But I can guess that he was voicing his concerns over his future. I can see it eats at him— what we'll do with him, where he'll go, what his future brings. Let me give him a chance to move past his history."

"Done, Al'iya," I said with a nod and a soothing gesture of my hand. Al'iya had managed to work herself up until she was near yelling, trying to convince me to let her keep the boy. "He's yours. Care for him, and teach him our ways."

SAGE—

Prince Amer brought Llyric a handful of leggings when we were left alone. They hung a little loose on Llyric, because he was far too skinny, but with a little weight he would fill them out nicely. He put a pair on reluctantly after I had told him there was no chance he would fit into my or Ember's pants enough to be functional and comfortable, but he refused to try any of the shirts the prince had brought.