In Deeper Waters by F.T. Lukens (most motivational books txt) 📕

Athlen stared at the bed. Rainwater dripped from his hair, ran along the soggy planes of his shoulders, and pooled on the wooden floor. The skin around his eyes was dark, and his expression was pinched. He was obviously weary from travel and in pain. He was far from his home and the sea, but none of those things should make him push Tal away. Not after what he’d shared in the cove, about his loneliness and his fear of being left behind. No, there had to be something Athlen was hiding. Tal was certain of it.

“Athlen,” Tal said, nudging him, “please rest.”

Athlen didn’t make a move other than to pluck at the ties of his shirt. Exhausted and irritated, Tal didn’t have the wherewithal to dissect Athlen’s mood. He turned away and stepped out of his boots and socks. Wiggling his wrinkled and pruned toes, he unbuckled his belt and dropped his trousers. They plopped to the ground. He pawed through the saddlebags and pulled out a slightly damp pair and slipped them on.

Next went his shirt. He flung the sodden fabric over his head, glad to be free of it.

He found a light shirt in the supplies from Shay and slipped it on. It was a size too large, and the collar slipped down his collarbone, but it was dry and warm. Straightening, he stopped short when he found Athlen staring, a blush across the line of his cheeks, and his eyes fever-bright.

Oh.

Tal raised both eyebrows. “Athlen?”

He startled and stepped backward, banging into the bed. He shouted a curse and grabbed his leg, flopping onto the hay-stuffed mattress.

“Athlen? Are you okay?”

He nodded, mouth clamped into a thin line. “Fine.”

Tal sighed. He rummaged through the bags and found a pair of dry socks. He crossed the room and sat on the bed. The mattress dipped dangerously beneath the pair of them.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Athlen fluttered his eyes closed. He rubbed his feet, pressing his fingers into the soles and rubbing his odd thumbs over the tops. “I’m sore. That’s all.”

“That’s not all. You’re not telling me something.”

“Some things you shouldn’t worry yourself with, my prince. Especially with all the other burdens you carry.”

Tal bowed his head. “It wouldn’t be a burden. You’re important to me. I want to help.”

“Not as important as your family, as your kingdom.” Athlen shook his head. “We should focus on getting you home.”

“Athlen,” Tal said on a sigh. “Please.” Sitting close, their thighs bumping together, Tal felt affection and concern stir in his middle. He’d been upset at Athlen’s distance and closed himself off in return, which had led him to ignore Athlen’s warning, but he hadn’t forgotten their time in the cave, and how Athlen’s lips tasted, and how Athlen’s hands had cleverly caressed his skin, his touch cool and soothing over Tal’s aches.

Tal trailed his fingertips over Athlen’s cheek. Athlen didn’t flinch away this time. Instead he nuzzled into the touch, eyes remaining closed, but the wrinkles of pain around his eyes eased. Tal leaned in and kissed Athlen’s jaw, then the corner of his slight smile, then he pressed his open mouth to Athlen’s parted lips.

Athlen sighed into it, melting into the kiss, mouth open and pliant, head tipped back as Tal cradled it, his fingers running through the thick copper hair. Tal pressed a little harder, a little more urgent, a fierce want brewing in his veins.

“I shouldn’t,” Athlen said, lips pink and wet. He brushed Tal’s hair from his eyes. “I shouldn’t.”

“Why?” Tal said. “What has changed?”

“You’re a prince.”

“You knew that from the beginning. I didn’t think you cared about that.”

“I don’t care, but that doesn’t mean that you aren’t one, Tal. You have duties and a life that I don’t understand.”

“You can have a place in the castle—in my life. Once we stop Emerick and save my family and stop this war…”

Athlen smiled. “That’s a nice sentiment.”

“You didn’t want to be left behind. I thought that meant—”

Athlen sighed. He scooted away, then stood, grimacing as he stepped toward the door. “I’ll get our dinner.”

He left without changing out of his wet clothes and with no further explanation. Frustrated, Tal flopped backward onto the sagging mattress and threw his arm over his eyes. He was content to lie there until Athlen returned, but then there would be an awkward conversation about bed sharing, and Tal wasn’t in the mood for that, either.

And who knew what kind of trouble Athlen could find in the span of a few minutes?

Tal sat up and put on the dry pair of socks, then slid his feet into his damp boots. He stomped out of his room and down the stairs.

The tavern had a layout similar to that of the one he had visited with Shay and Garrett. There were two main rooms divided by a single wall near the stairs. A corridor led to the back door and out to the kitchen. Thick red curtains adorned the walls, hanging in parallel lines. Eyebrow raised, Tal guessed the curtains were there for much the same reason that tapestries lined the cold stone of the castle, but after seeing two of the curtains with multiple pairs of feet poking out beneath, and hearing low moans emanating as the fabric moved, his cheeks reddened. Scandalized, Tal turned back toward the main dining area, but he didn’t make it far before a cool hand stole over his mouth. He grunted as he was jerked backward and behind a curtain hung on the wall.

“It’s me,” Athlen whispered low in Tal’s ear.

Tal nodded and Athlen let go.

“What is going on?”

Athlen peeked around the corner of the curtain, then ducked back into the shadows. His face had gone paler, if possible, and he pressed his lips into a thin, bloodless line.

“It’s them.”

Tal shook his head. “Them who?”

“The captain.” Athlen’s throat bobbed, and he flailed his hands in the small space between their bodies. “The ones who had me. The ones who chained me to the