When he met Rayne’s stare again, there was sadness but also a spark of hope. “She told me to be ruthless where you are concerned,” he whispered.
Clenching his eyes shut, Caelan swore that he would have a few words with his mother when they finally met in the afterlife. But he shoved away that anger and frustration, holding on to the need to give Rayne love and support.
“We will be ruthless when necessary, but we will forge our own path together. Not Queen Amara’s way or the Talos way, but our way.” Caelan held Rayne’s gaze and forced a smile while his heart still ached. “I’m half Omari, remember.”
“Plus a little bit of god,” Eno murmured.
Caelan threw his bodyguard a warning glare but softened it with a smirk. “Don’t remind me. At least it came in handy this time.” He looked at Rayne and squeezed his hand tighter. “You have been an older brother to me for years now, Rayne. I cannot do this without you. Don’t ever try to leave me again.”
Rayne nodded and pushed upright out of Eno’s arms. Caelan leaned toward him and they hugged tightly, Rayne’s slender body trembling against his. Caelan had purged the poison and repaired him, but he would still need a day or two of recuperation and rest to regain his strength.
“I’m sorry,” Rayne whispered brokenly in his ear.
“I’m sorry, too. No matter what I say, how angry I get, I will never stop loving you. I will always believe in you.”
“I love you, Cael.” Those words did wonders for healing the violent gash across Caelan’s heart and soul. Rayne had a long distance to travel until he was whole, but Caelan wanted to believe they’d taken a few steps in the right direction.
Reluctantly, Caelan released his hold on Rayne, allowing him to fall into Eno’s waiting arms. “Stay here with Eno and get some rest. You need to give your body time to heal. I’ll check on you later.”
Caelan rose from the bed and roughly wiped his eyes with the heel of his palm. He crossed the room and looked back to see Eno holding Rayne so very tightly, likely afraid he would disappear if he loosened his hold even the tiniest bit.
Eno lifted haunted eyes to Caelan. “Thank you, Cael. Thank you so much.”
Caelan nodded, unable to speak past the lump that filled his throat. They’d cut that too fucking close. If they’d lost Rayne…
He stepped out of the room and silently closed the door behind him, running from the rest of that thought. He couldn’t lose Rayne. He couldn’t lose any of his family.
TWENTY-TWO
Eno Bevyn
Eno was exhausted down to his very soul.
He closed his eyes and rubbed them as he listened to water running in the next room. He’d spent the day wrapped around Rayne as he slept. Every time Eno would doze off, he’d wake with a start and immediately check that Rayne was still breathing, that his pulse was strong.
Every second of discovering Rayne and bringing him back to life was forever burned into his brain. He’d lived in fear of losing this man, but it had been to a knife blade, gunshot, or even crushed by some callous god. It had never crossed his mind that Rayne’s soul might break.
And that was what had happened. Rejected by both his king and the man who promised to love him, Rayne had broken. They were the two things that Rayne had hung his entire existence on and when they disappeared, he’d crumbled.
The previous day and into this morning, Eno had been angry at Rayne and scared for him. Now, as he sat there, waiting for Rayne to get out of the shower, he was still scared, but his anger turned toward himself. Like Caelan, he shouldn’t have lost his temper. He should have stayed and talked it out with Rayne.
The water turned off and Eno’s head jerked up, his eyes trained on the open doorway that led to the bathroom. It had been a struggle to not climb into the shower with Rayne, but he’d said that he needed some space. Rayne had slept most of the day and woken in the late afternoon. Eno had managed to get a little soup in him before Rayne stated he wanted a shower.
While he waited for Rayne, Eno had cleaned up all the empty poison bottles and changed the sheets with the help of one of the Omari servants. The sweet young woman never spoke a word. She simply brought him clean sheets, gave him a sympathetic smile, and whisked away the dirty ones. He needed a shower himself, but he would wait until Rayne was asleep. He wanted—no, needed—to be at Rayne’s side while he was awake.
With a towel wrapped around his waist, Rayne stepped into the doorway, his eyes narrowed on Eno, but he had a feeling it was more that he was trying to bring him into focus rather than out of anger. Eno jumped up and grabbed Rayne’s glasses from the desk to bring over to the man.