#laethalyn

           His pulse pounded in his own ears, a counterpoint to his shaken breaths and it seemed the whole world had narrowed down to himself and the feel of the man in his arms. He had squeezed his eyes closed against the sensations and it was still too much to bear. Everywhere Loredan touched him felt electric, and his lips parted on pleas that only emerged as breathless little sounds of desire. He was lost in the rhythm of their moving bodies, of his own racing heart, the throbbing beat of which he felt in every place they touched. His fingertips thumped with it when he raked them across the dark skin of his lover's back, his throat pounded with it under Loredan's lips until the sensation was both pain and ecstasy and he could not decided if he wanted to groan or scream. "Please, Lore..." was all that emerged. "Please..."

           His voice was a shaken thing he hardly recognized, ragged and husky with passion. And then it was not his own voice at all, but the voice of the man in the alley, caught close in the arms of a figure he knew all too well. The broken sound of the man's voice had been soft, nearly muffled by the whisper of the wind, but his own pointed ears were too keen to miss it, just as his eyes were too sharp to mistake the deep red of Loredan's curls for any other hue, no matter how dim the night. It was not pleasure his lover offered the stranger he had caught close in the shadows. It was not tenderness in the familiar lines of the arms that held the ragged beggar close. But he could not miss the eerie echo of their own lovemaking in it.

           He knew the feel of Loredan's lips on his neck, the way they made his pulse pound as though his heart wanted to beat its way out right into his waiting mouth. And then the wind brought with it the scent, faint but sharp on the cool air. Blood. And all at once he understood. His next breath drew in sharp over his lips... too sharp, the sound almost loud in the sudden lull in the breeze. Loredan's head lifted, and he could see the blood now, trickling over the lips he had kissed so many times. He watched his lover's single blue eye focus and then lift to meet his.

           Everything had gone still, the wind, the man who hung limp in the circle of Loredan's arms. His own heart. And for just a moment he stared into his lover's eye down the length of the alley and knew there was no mistaking each other. Suddenly every little confusion of the last years made sense, all the little things he'd pushed aside and tried to ignore until he could bear the weight of wondering no longer. A monster. A murderer. There was no breath left in the man that slowly slumped to the pavement as Loredan's arms released him. And he knew there had been others. He had heard and wondered at the occasional rumor the same as all the rest but he had never thought the answer lay beside him in his own bed.

           Loredan had been so careful, so very careful, not to let him know. And for a moment he almost wished that he had let the illusion linger. If only he had stayed home this evening and picked up his book instead of following his lover into the night. He might still wonder over a dozen little things but wondering would be better than knowing this. Almost anything would be better than this. Loredan slowly straightened, eye still focused on his and suddenly he realized there was more than his own torment over the knowledge to fear. He knew the secret Loredan had worked so hard to keep, and Loredan could not have missed that he did.

           His lover could be an intimidating man in his way, but he had never been truly afraid of him until that moment. His eyes dropped to the man at Loredan's feet, the pallor of his skin and the small seeping punctures at his throat. He remembered the feel of warm lips on his neck and that combination of almost pain and ecstasy he had found so often in his arms. His eyes jerked back to Loredan's face, and for just a moment he was caught in the fierce intensity of his gaze. It was the smallest movement that finally broke him free, the shifting of weight in preparation for a step.

           Another sharp breath seared its way over his lips and he whirled to run, wild and unthinking. He was heedless of the crate his heel caught and tipped, of his own near stumble and the scrape of his knuckles on the stone. He had to get away, out of Loredan's sight and out of his reach before he joined the man lying so still on the stones.

                                                  ***

           Hot lips trailed a slow caress along the beat of his pulse and he gasped, a low groan of desire catching in his throat. His eyes were hazy when they opened to meet the heated gaze of his lover's single eye. His hand slid up into the dark red curls, gripping with the hungry intent to pull Loredan's lips back down on his own. But something in his lover's expression froze him, some sudden fierceness he had never seen before. His lips parted over predator's teeth. "You should never have followed me, Laethalyn."

           He jerked awake, heart pounding unpleasantly, nostrils suddenly full of the scent of beer from the nearly empty cup his knuckles had just bumped over. A low groan caught in his throat and he lifted his head from his cushioning arm, rubbing at the marks his armor had left on his cheek. He shouldn't be sleeping in the tavern, booted feet stretched out from the bench for people to trip over, the meager contents of his pouch available to any enterprising pickpocket. In plain sight for Loredan to see if the monster he had once loved happened to be looking.