Traitor's Moon by Lynn Flewelling Read Free Book Online Page A

to accomplish was swept aside in less than a week’s time. The whole plot had hinged on duping the son of Korit í Solun into betraying the clan’s honor. And you know what?”
    His voice was suddenly husky, so husky that he had to take another gulp of wine before he could finish. “The worst of it wasn’t the killing or the shame, or even the exile. It was the fact that people I should have trusted had tried to
warn
me, but I was too vain and headstrong to listen.” He looked away, unable to bear Alec’s look of sympathy. “So there you have it, my shameful past. Nysander was the only other person I ever told.”
    â€œAnd this happened over forty years ago?”
    â€œBy Aurënfaie reckoning, it’s still last season’s news.”
    â€œHas your father ever forgiven you?”
    â€œHe died years ago, and no, he never forgave me. Neither did my sisters except for Adzriel—did I mention that Shalar was in love with a Haman? I doubt very many of my clan who’ve borne the burdenof the shame I brought on our name will be in any hurry to welcome me back, either.”
    Talked out, Seregil knocked back the last of his wine as images from that final day in Virésse harbor flashed unbidden through his mind: his father’s furious silence, Adzriel’s tears, the scathing jeers and catcalls that had propelled him up the gangplank of a foreign ship. He hadn’t wept then and he didn’t now, but the crushing sense of remorse was as fresh as ever.
    Alec waited quietly, hands clasped on the table in front of him. Stranded in silence by the fire, Seregil suddenly found himself aching for the reassuring touch of those strong, deft fingers.
    â€œSo, will you go?” Alec asked again.
    â€œYes.” He’d known the answer since Beka had first told him of the journey. Framing the question he hadn’t yet dared to ask, Seregil forced himself across the bit of floor that separated them and extended a hand to Alec. “Are you coming with me? It may not be very pleasant, being the talímenios of an exile. I don’t even have a proper name there.”
    Alec took his outstretched hand, squeezing it almost to the point of pain. “Remember what happened the last time you tried to go off without me?”
    Seregil’s relieved laugh startled them both. “Remember? I think I’ve still got some of the bruises!” Tightening his own grip, he pulled Alec out of his chair and onto the bed. “Here, I’ll show you.”
    Seregil’s sudden demand for lovemaking surprised Alec less than the wildness of what followed. Anger lurked just beneath his lover’s frenzied passion, anger not meant for him, but that still left a scattering of small bruises across his skin to be discovered by tomorrow’s sun.
    Alec didn’t need the heightened senses of the talímenios bond to tell him that Seregil was trying to somehow burn all memory of that hated first lover from his own skin, or that it hadn’t worked.
    Locked sweaty and breathless in Seregil’s arms afterward, Alec listened as the other man’s ragged breathing slowed to normal and for the first time felt empty and uneasy instead of sated and safe. A black gulf of silence separated them even as they lay heart against heart. It frightened him, but he didn’t pull away.
    â€œWhat became of Ilar? Was he ever found?” he whispered at last.
    â€œI don’t know.”
    Alec touched Seregil’s cheek, expecting to find tears. It was dry. “Once, just after we met, Micum told me that you never forgive betrayal,” he said softly. “Later, Nysander told me the same. They both believed it was because of what happened to you in Aurënen. It was him, wasn’t it? Ilar?”
    Seregil took Alec’s hand and pressed the palm to his lips, then moved it to his bare chest, letting him feel the quick, heavy beat of his heart. When he spoke at last,