Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Their gazes locked, and Eridan licked his dry lips. It felt like his mind was full of white noise, and he couldn’t form any thoughts besides want you-need you-why are you so far away?
Castien stared at Eridan, almost grimly, before finally walking forward.
Eridan got to his feet, his legs distastefully shaky. He felt a heaviness between his legs, slick running down his thighs the closer his Master got. He fucking hated his body.
“Your Grace,” he heard himself say.
Castien glared at him coldly. “Stop addressing me like that. There is no one here but us. If you expect me to address you as Your Highness, you will be waiting for a long time.”
Eridan lifted his chin and crossed his arms over his chest. “But that is what you should address me as,” he said, hating how badly he wanted to step closer to his Master and bury his face against his broad chest, feel his arms around him, and his mind inside his.
“I am not interested in talking to Prince Eruadarhd,” Castien said, stepping closer until they were face to face.
He could smell him, the scent of crisp mountain air, pines, and something else, the scent he associated only with Castien.
Eridan swallowed, wetting his lips with his tongue as he tried not to stare at Castien’s firm mouth. He’d never wanted to be kissed so badly in his life. It had been so long.
A muscle twitched in Castien’s jaw. “You are nothing but trouble, even when you are not part of the Order,” he said tersely. “Turn around.”
Eridan turned around.
Only after doing it, did he realize how much the simple action had given away. He hadn’t even thought to question the order.
He felt Castien’s hands in his hair, moving it away and baring his neck.
Eridan caught his bottom lip between his teeth, his stomach doing flip-flops as he felt Castien’s breath on his nape. He was trembling, faintly, his skin oversensitive, his lower body aching with want.
“You are not a member of the Order anymore,” Castien said, his voice pitched low. “You cannot wear it as a thaal.”
Eridan blinked, feeling confused until he felt a weight around his neck. Looking down, he stared at the purple dethrenyte on a delicate gold chain. He could feel the warmth of Castien’s telepathic mark inside it as the gemstone rested against his chest. The chain was longer than the traditional ribbons of a thaal: not to be displayed proudly, but to be hidden away from everyone else.
Eridan’s throat was suddenly too tight. This was something only the two of them would know about. He both loved and hated the idea.
He loved that Castien was breaking the rules for him by giving him something a Master gave only to an apprentice. He hated that while this gemstone was perfectly functional for the purpose of centering him, it wasn’t a thaal. He could never again wear a thaal that would mark him as his Master’s to everyone who cared to look.
Fucking hell, how messed up was that? He finally had a family. Why the fuck did he still feel this way? So unanchored, yearning to belong to this cold, unfeeling man who had never promised him anything of the sort. Eridan had never hated himself more. His eyes were stinging, and he had to blink the angry tears away. He was glad his back was to Castien, and his former Master wouldn’t see how pathetic he was being.
Biting the inside of his cheek, Eridan said tersely, “Thanks. Though I suppose I will not need it once you block off the throwback part of my brain.”
He felt the tension in Castien’s body behind him, almost as acutely as if it were his own.
“Are you certain you want to do it?” Castien said. “That could affect your telepathy. Not to mention it will affect your body too—quite drastically, since the hormones responsible for some of your bodily functions will no longer be produced.”
Eridan’s lips twisted. “You mean I’ll stop leaking like a bitch in heat when I’m aroused? Good riddance.”
Putting a hand on his shoulder, Castien turned Eridan around. His face was grim, his blue eyes intent as their gazes met. “It is not a joking matter, Eridan. I obviously have no personal experience with this, but I am familiar with the reports of throwbacks that went through such a procedure. All of them reported significant disorientation, and for some of them the experience was very traumatizing. They said it felt as though they were in a wrong body.”
Eridan smiled humorlessly. “Don’t tell me you are worried for me.”
Castien’s face went blank. “I said no such thing. You are no longer my apprentice. Worrying for you is not my job anymore.”
“Exactly. Let’s get it over with. But before we start, I have a request.” He looked Castien in the eye and forced the words out. “I want you to erase all my memories of you.”