“We shall think of something.”
“It’ll have to be quick. Five days will go faster than you think.” There were two days for the first trial, followed by one of rest to give those who had made it through a chance to recoup before tackling the forest run and the heart-gifting ceremony. Then the final trial. “At least I ken who I’ll be giving me heart to.”
Darshan gave a querying hum.
“Did nae one tell you?” He fished out a pendant from within his undershirt. The simple chain gleamed in the dull light. Hanging off the links was a heart-shaped ruby about as broad as the length of his thumb. Although his mother had commissioned the gem after he had survived his first year in this world, Hamish recalled only seeing the hearts of his siblings during their union contests.
She’d given him this one only yesterday. “See this?”
Darshan rocked his head to one side to appraise the jewel. His brows lowered in confusion, but he remained silent.
“After the last competitor finds their way through the forest, all those who make it through unscathed are lined up and I am meant to gift this to one of them.” He ran his thumb over the ruby. The cut wasn’t usually the type of style a man would wear. At least it wasn’t ringed with diamonds like the one Gordon had gifted to his wife. Would Darshan object to wearing such a trinket?
“You bestow a favour part way through the trials? To what end?”
Shrugging, Hamish tucked the gem back beneath his clothes and laced his fingers behind his head. “Tradition. My choice is supposed to encourage the Goddess to bestow her blessing upon them.”
“Then I best make it through the trials, had I not? Having a Goddess’ will on my side surely could not hurt.”
“Aye,” he replied thickly.
“But you know,” Darshan murmured, rolling onto his side to prop himself onto his elbow. “If you are going to insist on being sprawled on my bed like an offering for the Divine Agan…” He shuffled further upright, winding up on his hands and knees.
Laughter inadvertently snorted out Hamish’s nose. “Your bed? As if you’ve ever used it.” Seeing how well Darshan handled roughing it whilst travelling across the land, he couldn’t imagine the man willingly choosing this cold pile of blankets over a bed in a warm room.
“We could.” Grinning, his lover straddled his waist. “Right now.”
Hamish lay there, well aware of how each breath shifted his lover’s weight. Still, he saw no need to push Darshan off him, although keeping his hands where they comfortably sat buried beneath his hair seemed equally as prudent. “Do you even ken what you want from this beyond having me in Minamist?” Did he really want Hamish as a husband? Or did he mean for them to remain no closer than lovers?
“In the moment?” One dark brow lifted suggestively along with a corner of Darshan’s mouth. “Or in general?”
“Generally.”
The cockiness in his expression melted away. “Not entirely,” he whispered. “But I do know what I do not want to transpire and that is to lose you, to leave you here living a life others have dictated. That has to count for something, right?”
It did. Probably more than his lover realised. “And what, exactly, do you want from me?”
“So many things I know I cannot have.” Darshan’s hand glided up Hamish’s chest, one finger gracing his neck before sliding downwards as his weight shifted off Hamish. “I want to be able to court you, properly. To gift you the ability to choose me as I have you. To hold you whenever and wherever I wished.” His lover’s hand slid along Hamish’s stomach and onwards to his groin to slowly stroke him through his trousers to the accompaniment of Hamish’s muffled whimper. “I want to empty myself into you every night,” his lover breathed into Hamish’s ear. “To hear you moan without fear of being caught.”
Hamish rocked his hips, deepening the man’s gentle movements. A soft, desperate little groan slipped out his lips.
“Yes,” Darshan purred. “Just like that. But…” He withdrew his hand, a strange expression ghosting over his face. “I also want to just fall asleep in your arms and know you will be there when I wake.”
Hamish tilted his head. “Me too.” He’d had a measure of that during their trip to and from the cloister. He had missed such comfort in the days after the bear attack.
Darshan smiled back, care and desire softly skewing his lips. He caressed Hamish’s cheek with the back of a finger, smoothing his beard. “And what I want above all?” He sat back. “Simply for you to be happy, to have the chance to be you.”
He stared up at his lover, his throat and chest tight. Moisture pricked at the corners of his eyes.
“Is something wrong?”
“Nae,” he managed, the word thick on his tongue.
“Are you certain? Forgive me, but you sound like you are about to cry.”
I just might, yet. People always wanted things from him, expected him to act a certain way or be a certain type of person. To give his all without asking for anything in return. No one had ever let him just be him. “I love you,” he whispered.
Darshan smiled, warm affection creasing the corners of his eyes. Even with only half the day being garbed as himself, his lover had rimmed his eyes with dark powder. “I believe we established that.”
“Doesnae mean I’ll stop saying it.”
“I certainly hope not.” Darshan pressed close. “And I do love you,” he murmured, the breath of his words skittering across Hamish’s ear. “I would never have found someone as sweet as you back home.”
“Sweet?” Hamish gently pushed Darshan back until the man’s face came into view. Lit only by the low light leaking through canvas and tree canopy, much of the man’s expression was in shadow. Too much to know if he was merely joking. “I’ve nae been called that since I was a
