The Warrior's Mage by A. C. Fox

Author:A. C. Fox [Fox, A. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: m/m fantasy romance
ISBN: 9781947135253
Publisher: Etopia Press
Published: 2017-07-26T04:00:00+00:00

He’d pushed things too far, Tamas realized. Right to the edge.

He felt shame for it, but Damen had undercut all the triumph he’d been feeling after today’s discoveries, and he’d resented it. But it was true. He’d lost sight of what effect excavating the ruins might have on everything around him. Especially on Damen. He’d claimed Damen was selfish, but Tamas was the one who’d selfishly brought chaos and violence into Damen’s home.

Even though he’d apologized, he didn’t know how to make things right again. So he sat there in front of the fire, his spirits low, listening to the wood pop and crackle in the hearth, and not knowing what else to say.

Bergamot nuzzled his hand. The oidog always brought a smile to his face. He scooped up the oidog and hugged him. Bergamot licked his face, and he laughed.

“He likes you,” Damen said in his deep, rough voice. A voice Tamas was coming to enjoy more and more. Half of Damen’s rugged face bathed in shadow by the firelight, and the rest was highlighted in orange red.

“Well, I like him back. I read about oidogs once in a travel chronicle of the south, but they aren’t common in Teirlan.”

“They’re hard to catch and aren’t easily domesticated. Also, they dislike cities.”

“It sounds like he has the perfect place here with you.”

Damen didn’t reply, but it was a comfortable silence. The tension between them had drained away. One kind of tension, anyway. It was hard to forget the scorching look the other man had cast his way when he’d been naked earlier. Damen hadn’t been shy about showing his interest, especially judging by the erection Tamas had seen outlined against his breeches.

Tamas quickly wrenched his thoughts away from Damen’s cock and focused on petting Bergamot and watching the fire. The heat felt good on his aching body. He was tired, his belly was full, and sitting here with Bergamot on his lap relaxed him. Even his lingering urge to head back to the ruins and activate the stone again lessened as he stared at the flames, mesmerized by their orange-yellow dance.

“Thank you,” he finally said, still not looking away from the flames. “I want you to know…” He shook his head. “I want to thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Damen folded his arms across his chest. “I wouldn’t feel too much gratitude if I were. I came to kill Boa Visk. Not to save your life.”

“But you stayed to save my life.”

“I walked away. Remember?”

“I remember you carrying me in your arms. That’s what I remember.”

Damen’s brows drew together in a frown. “You are stubborn.”

“Not as stubborn as you are. I’m trying to thank you. Why are you making this difficult?”

Damen took his time answering. “I am not used to be thanked. I’m not used to all this talking either.”

“You never talked to Bergamot?”

A smirk appeared on his lips. “That’s not the same.”

“All I know is, I may be a soft scholar who barely knows one end of a sword from the other, but I was taught to show gratitude.

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