By Chance Met (21 page)

“Well, no need to be hasty,” Keiran pointed out. “I suggest you take a look at your holdings first, kitten. Then you’ll be able to make an informed decision and lessen the chances for regret later on.”

“You should also take your sire’s wishes into consideration,” Reijir said. “Had he wanted to remove his children as well from the succession, I imagine he would have explicitly said so in his letter. That he left the whole damn issue to your grandsire to decide gives me cause to believe he knew Albran Fiori would try to keep the title in his immediate family.” He looked questioningly at Syvan. “Am I right?”

Syvan started then flushed. “Er, yes, Your Grace. Morel was far from happy about the prospect of being disinherited, but, well, he chose to be with Jiron so…”

“Then it’s very possible he would have contacted his sire eventually and presented him with his grandsons. How old was your eldest brother, Naeth?”

“At the time of the fire?” Naeth gulped. “He had just turned thirty-five.”

“The perfect time to come forward as your grandsire’s heir,” Keiran remarked.

“Your supposition makes sense, Rei. Morel mayn’t have trusted his sire not to meddle in his life, maybe even take his eldest son away and place him in wardship—Yes, Naeth, it can be done legally if a titled Deir claims his heir isn’t being properly raised. As I was saying, your
aba
may have concealed your whereabouts to protect you, but that doesn’t mean he wanted the title to pass to a cadet line. So I agree with Reijir. He probably intended to return to Irdaran once your brother reached his majority. In all likelihood, he wanted a son of his to inherit.”

Naeth blew his breath out then looked uncertainly from one brother to the other.

Reijir laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll take you to Irdaran next spring as soon as the winter monsoon has passed,” he promised. “But rest assured, whatever your decision, you have a home with us.”

Naeth smiled in relief at Reijir’s words. “Thank you,” he murmured. He turned to Syvan. “And I will think the matter over carefully, Fiori-
tyar.
”

“I think you can do away with the honorific,” Reijir commented.

“So I can,” Naeth said, his smile deepening. “I’m very glad to meet you, Uncle Syvan. It’s good to know I’m not alone after all.”

Chapter Fourteen

The sharp rap of footsteps in the corridor followed by the slam of a door farther down the hall alerted Naeth to the return of Reijir from Ilmaren. And not in a fair mood it seemed. But then who could remain even-tempered when trying to settle a ruinous long-standing feud between two barons who both refused to make peace just for the principle of it?

Naeth quickly set aside his book and got to his feet. Throwing a robe over his nightshirt, he stepped out of his room and hastened to Reijir’s apartment.

After a hesitant knock, Reijir opened the door, looking uncharacteristically disheveled in a partially unbuttoned shirt, loosened breeches and bare feet. Naeth caught sight of his tunic, jerkin and boots scattered on the sitting room floor. Another unusual sight in Reijir’s very orderly quarters. And the Herun was definitely in a foul mood judging by the scowl he did not completely wipe from his face even when he saw it was Naeth. The scowl merely faded to a frown.

“What is wrong?” Naeth softly asked, raising a hand to brush a lock of raven hair from Reijir’s forehead.

Reijir closed his eyes at his touch and what sounded like a muffled imprecation escaped the Herun. Before Naeth knew what was happening, Reijir grasped his upraised hand and pulled him into the apartment.

Hardly had the door slammed behind him when Reijir caught him in a fierce

embrace and smothered his startled protest with a nigh incendiary kiss. Naeth gasped against the Herun’s mouth as his robe was brusquely yanked down his arms and dropped to the floor. His nightshirt followed in short order when Reijir rent it open with almost frightening impatience.

He clung a little fearfully to Reijir when his lover picked him up and bore him to the bedchamber. With little preamble, Reijir laid him on the bed and relieved him of the tatters of his nightshirt. To his surprise, Reijir did not trouble to strip himself completely but only shrugged off his shirt before joining Naeth on the bed.

Naeth whimpered as Reijir renewed his assault, little of his usual gentleness in evidence. Naeth steadied his nerves, telling himself it was his lover’s way of venting his frustration over a problem that promised to plague him for some time to come. Naeth willed himself not to resist but to give in to Reijir’s demands. After all, it was not as if they had not coupled as passionately before. Only Reijir’s abrupt manner was different.

He groaned when Reijir all but swallowed him whole, then gasped as the slide of fingers against the entrance of his seed channel bespoke the turning of his body. Naeth shuddered as ripple after ripple of ecstasy coursed through him.

Reijir often turned him when they coupled to intensify the pleasure for Naeth and also to make him more receptive since the process strengthened the need to be penetrated.

But he did not recall Reijir doing so while in the midst of orally pleasuring him. The dual sensations were almost too much to bear and he heard himself sobbing harshly with each suckle of his shaft and stroke of his sheath.

Warm lips replaced the fingers. Naeth softly cried out as the dip of Reijir’s tongue into him drove all thought from his head, filling the void left behind with sheer need.

“Please…” he begged, the word ending on a moan.

Reijir raised his head, his eyes gleaming darkly. He licked his lips of the slippery

essence that clung to them. Naeth blushed at the wicked grin that curved the Herun’s mouth.

At least, he’s smiling again
, Naeth thought with some relief.

Reijir swiftly undid his breeches. Naeth noted he had not bothered to don drawers underneath, more evidence of his anger and impatience with his quarrelsome barons.

“Oil…” Naeth murmured, reaching for the ever present bottle on the side table. But Reijir caught him by the wrist and pushed him down.

“No need for it,” Reijir said, shifting his hips between Naeth’s thighs.

About to speak, Naeth caught his breath when Reijir started to push into his seed channel. “Nay, I haven’t taken—” he started to say.

Reijir cut him off with a bruising kiss even as he slid into Naeth to the hilt. Naeth gasped and tried to push Reijir away. He managed to break their kiss and blurt, “Wait!

I’m not—”

Again, Reijir silenced him, sealing their mouths together in a hot-tongued caress. He seized Naeth’s wrists and forced his hands above his head. Naeth moaned into their kiss, then remembering his unprotected state frantically tried to dislodge Reijir by twisting his body sideways. To no avail.

Annoyed, Reijir forced him back down and barked, “Be still, Naeth!”

Naeth cried out at a particularly deep and brutal thrust into him. The brusque incursions did not cease, leaving him breathless and unable to do more than shudder and gasp. As the quickening strokes of Reijir’s shaft against the walls of his seed channel wrought sensation after rapturous sensation, Naeth lost the will to deny his lover and gave himself over to their mutual pleasure.

He sobbed in ecstasy as release overtook him, the spasmodic clenching of his muscles around Reijir’s shaft wrenching the Herun’s climax from him. With a harsh groan, Reijir spent himself deep inside Naeth.

Still trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm, Naeth only vaguely registered the familiar rush of warmth toward his belly and the pleasurable spasms that followed. But when the warmth burst into flaring heat, he stiffened in shock. The heat did not subside at once but lingered and spread throughout his abdomen. Inside his womb.

Heyas,
he thought with dismay.
Have I conceived?

Eyes shut tight, he clutched at Reijir, shaking with fear and wonder. A spate of warm kisses on his face and lips calmed him down somewhat, and he opened his eyes to look into contrite verdant eyes.

“I frightened you,” Reijir murmured. “I’m sorry, Naeth-
min
.”

“You—” Naeth swallowed. “You seemed angry.”

“Not with you.” Reijir bent down, touching his forehead to Naeth’s. “Only the fools I must deal with. I was sore from having to mediate between those two halfwits and over the pettiest, most ridiculous of matters. I wanted to put an end to it once and for all, but alas, they were hardly cooperative.”

“I see.” Naeth licked his lips, wondering how to tell his lover that he might have begotten a child on him. “That is aggravating,” he murmured. “Small wonder you were in no mood for talk.”

“I’m still in no mood for it,” Reijir said with a small smile.

He pushed his hips forward, making Naeth realize that his lover was still inside him and fast hardening again. Before Naeth could utter another word, Reijir captured his

mouth in a series of gentle, breath-stealing kisses while below he wrapped his hand around Naeth’s shaft and stroked to a renewed state of readiness. Naeth groaned in defeat as rapturous sensation invaded him once more to the exclusion of thought and all good sense.

He would tell Reijir the following day. When the Herun was in better temper and would not take exception to the revelation that he had ravished Naeth and sired a child on him.

He would also have to dampen his own ardor if he were to keep his secret a while longer.

The Deiran libido increased almost from the moment of conception, and Naeth knew he was no exception to this particular effect of breeding.

“When is spring recess?” Reijir asked him and Keiran over breakfast.

“In a little more than three weeks,” Keiran replied. “Why do you ask?”

“I promised Naeth I’d take him to Irdaran this spring.”

Keiran nodded approvingly. “Yes, he should have a look at the estate as soon as possible.” He smiled at Naeth. His smile turned into a frown. “Is something wrong?” he asked. “You look quite flushed. Are you coming down with something?”

Naeth gulped and shook his head. It would not do to admit his high color came from his body’s reaction to stimulation such as the mere sight of Reijir’s handsome virile self provided.

Saints above, I should have more control than this
, he scolded himself.

“I, uh, only remembered something, about last night,” he lamely replied.

Keiran suddenly guffawed. “I don’t blame you,” he said with a knowing grin.

Naeth looked at him in horror. “Y-you can hear us?” he squeaked.

“From eight rooms away? You should hope not! Nay, I only went to Reijir’s suite to ask him about something but, lo, what should I hear but a very voluble kit in full rut?

Your bed must have taken quite a pounding, little brother. And Naeth, too!”

“Have mercy on him, Kei,” Reijir mildly reproved. “Naeth is still unused to your overly salty tongue. And while I’ll admit to being your brother, I’m far from little. Which is more than you can say about yourself. Right, Ruo?”

Ruomi bit his lip to keep from laughing as he placed a sheaf of letters to the right of Reijir’s plate. His eyes alighting momentarily on Keiran, he diplomatically replied, “Kei-tyar has his own special attractions.”

Keiran flashed him a wolfish smile. “And you know them all too well,” he huskily drawled.

Naeth suddenly rose to his feet and stammered out an excuse to leave. As he hurried out of the dining hall, he heard Keiran say, “Go after him, Ruo. Find out what ails him.

I’ve never seen him so red-faced and fidgety!”

Naeth groaned and hurried down to the front door. He had to evade Ruomi.

Heyas!
How was he going to temper his lust when the brethren often engaged in earthy humor, especially Keiran? He only hoped Reijir would not notice his increased desire for intimacy with him before Naeth had the chance to confess his condition.

The weeks marched by and still Naeth kept his secret. He knew he would have to divulge it before his belly began to show. His increased craving for sexual contact had already drawn Reijir’s attention though naturally the Herun did not immediately connect the change with breeding but rather thought it the enthusiasm of youth. His amused approval of the state of affairs only made it harder for Naeth to confess.

Meanwhile, the time for the visit to Irdaran swiftly neared, further distracting everyone from noticing anything amiss with Naeth. Or so he hoped.

The day before their departure, he woke up late after a somewhat uneasy night of vague dreams, thus missing breakfast with Reijir and Keiran who had already left the house by then. Naeth ventured down to the kitchen and assured the cook he would prepare his own breakfast rather than interrupt the cooking and bottling of the year’s stock of jams and preserves. And instead of eating in the dining hall or his own room, he settled himself at one of the worktables.

He was hungrily devouring his meal when Ruomi walked in. The
sedyr
paused to greet him before speaking with the cook. Naeth idly listened as Ruomi requested the Deir to check the larder for a number of foodstuffs. The cook and his assistant dutifully headed off, leaving Ruomi alone with Naeth.

“You’re with child, aren’t you?” Ruomi abruptly asked.

Naeth nearly choked on his mouthful of porridge. He coughed, wheezed a little then looked at Ruomi in wide-eyed apprehension.

“What—what made you think that?” he croaked.

Ruomi sat down across from him. “Your appetite has markedly increased, and you eat more frequently. You’re past adolescence and aren’t engaged in strenuous training of any kind and you’re not recovering from sickness. Other than these, the most usual cause for such a change in eating habits is breeding.”

Naeth gulped and looked down at the remains of his hearty breakfast, which aside from the honey-sweetened, milk-laced porridge had consisted of smoked bacon, grilled sausages, poached egg, a vegetable mélange, generously buttered toast, and a hefty bowl of chopped fruit doused with cream.