Petrichor (The Tempest Series Book 3) by T.D. Cloud & Andrew Goh

Author:T.D. Cloud & Andrew Goh [Cloud, T.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Createspace
Published: 2017-09-22T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Dancing lights. Soft music. Corbet opened his eyes to a fantastical world far more unbelievable than anything he had ever known before. A gentle hand took his own, pulling him through a crowd that seemed to sway in time to the imperceptible rhythm in the air they breathed.

Where was he? Who held his hand? Corbet watched as a dozen faerie lights swam past his cheek, their soft petals close enough to ghost against his skin. They were beautiful, dancing along to the music, their colors and glow dimming and brightening, dimming and brightening.

Dimming.

Brightening.

“You look beautiful, my lost one,” Ruari’s voice whispered in his ear. “You shame everyone here.”

Corbet clutched at the arms wrapped around his middle. They held him so tightly, pulling him back against a warm, solid chest. “Ruari?” he breathed, staring ahead into the throng of faceless dancers. For some reason, he was too scared to turn around. “Ruari, is that you?”

The low voice laughed lightly, tickling his ear with the sound. “Who else would it be?” Ruari teased, kissing his cheek. “Aren’t you enjoying yourself? This is all for you.”

“All for me?” Corbet parroted, leaning back into his lover’s arms. He felt so tired, so hazy. Had he been drinking? He couldn’t remember coming here. He couldn’t remember anything.

“All for you, my love,” his lover promised, his hands settling around Corbet’s hips. “You’ve done so well, after all. You’ve earned this celebration.”

When Ruari said it like that, Corbet couldn’t help but feel proud of himself. He’d done it. He’d earned this. Corbet wasn’t sure what he had done or earned, but what did it matter? “I love you, Ruari,” Corbet murmured, closing his eyes and letting Ruari move him how he pleased, his lover’s soft lips settling in the crook of Corbet’s neck.

“And I love you,” Ruari sighed. He kissed Corbet’s neck, moving up to his ear. His hands squeezed Corbet’s hips, and Corbet let out a low sigh of pleasure, utterly content. “But Corbet,” Ruari whispered softly against Corbet’s ear. “There is only one thing I wish to make this evening perfect.”

Corbet hummed. “What is it?”

“For it to last.”

Corbet had a moment to ponder that. One moment of warm, soft music and the feeling of his lover’s arms around his waist. His thoughts stumbled lazily, fighting for traction, something in the back of his mind warning him that he needed to understand.

It was just a shame that he wasn’t given the time to discover it on his own.

A violent blow shattered the dream, dragging Corbet back to reality. Pain, thick, cloying, and unavoidable, filled his chest as if he were drowning, banishing all else from his mind. The cold swept in like a wave, the pain cresting and taking him under a moment later. Corbet opened his eyes and cried out weakly, hunching over to protect his aching, burning ribs. The floor was so cold. He hadn’t thought he could feel it anymore, but here he was, freezing and choking on the icy air.

“Wake up,” a familiar voice barked, tearing the vestiges of the dream away like a cruel wind destroying a home.

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