The King's Whisper by T. S. Cleveland

Author:T. S. Cleveland [Cleveland, T. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay adventures, Gay, gay hero, gay fantasy, gay romance mm
ISBN: 9781726186865
Amazon: 1726186865
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2018-09-02T00:00:00+00:00

Part Two: The Whisper

14 - The Most Dangerous Thing in the Woods

Felix was sore all over and his legs trembled beneath him as he walked. The night was cold, the wind growing brisk, and he pulled Torsten’s bandana up under his eyes to stave off the brunt of it. It was starting to lose Torsten’s scent after being around his own neck for so long, and after the time spent in the river. And the new clothes he was wearing weren’t Torsten’s, and didn’t smell like him at all. And neither did the small boots his feet were crammed into, or the fur pelt so large there was room enough for two.

He was thankful for all of it, though, as he was warm enough, even if his toes were being squeezed and his trousers were a size too small. At least he didn’t have to worry about them falling down around his ankles; more likely, he’d have to pry them off when the time came to remove them, which would be sooner rather than later if he succeeded in actually finding Gethrin’s camp.

He paused at the thought, feeling sick. It wasn’t too late. He’d only traveled a few miles. He could turn around right now and return to camp, sneak back into the tent with Torsten, rest his head on his chest, and try to think of a better plan before morning. That would be the safe and sensible thing to do. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that what he was doing now was the right thing, that it was what needed to be done, had to be done.

For even more important than the information he could gather from Gethrin was the chance of steering him away from a second attack against Torsten and the camp, and that alone made the madness of his idea worthwhile. It would have been helpful to have his magic flute, to play Gethrin’s camp into a deep slumber so he could simply find and flee with the proof they needed. But the flute was gone, snatched away by the hands of that insufferable, murderous pirate, and Felix had only himself to depend on, to accomplish what needed doing. It would have to be enough. It had been enough to deal with Torsten, to make him want to release him, to try to take him home, and eventually, to agree to let him come back. If he could manage one bandit so deftly, surely he could manage another. But where thinking of persuading Torsten made him prickle with warmth, thinking of Gethrin made his blood run cold. He tried to clear the memory of Gethrin’s face from his mind so he could start moving again, replacing it with thoughts of Torsten—his lips and hands and scent and . . . with a long sigh, he continued walking, not entirely sure where he was going, but somehow sure he would find his way.

He tried not to cower when he heard movement in the surrounding trees, assuming it was the wolf pack tracking him through the forest.

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