head. “I learned early on in my career that a guard that's untrustworthy can be destructive."
Abruptly, Andia swung out of her seat and through the exit from the cockpit. Something there, definitely.
Zevon stood at the door of the shuttle, his body tense, ready for an attack. Andia brushed by him and strode down the steps into the gloom.
When Christophe studied Zevon, he was shocked to see his dominant's face was pale and pinched. Whatever was going on within him, it wasn't pleasant. Christophe reached out, but Zevon flinched away.
Christophe dropped his hand. His earlier thoughts seemed hollow. He'd believed that no matter what happened at the conclave, he would still love Zevon, still belong to him. But what could he do if Zevon left him?
This wasn't the time to worry about that.
He turned and followed Andia into the darkness and wondered if he'd lost Zevon for good or if the darkness within would swallow him whole.
Light flooded the bay where they'd landed, and Christophe stared. The landing site was a crystal cave, like the inside of a geode he'd once seen. Andia handed him a lantern globe.
"Come,” Andia said.
Christophe glanced back at Zevon. He stepped out of the shuttle, and the colors of the crystals glittered in his dark eyes. But other than a flicker at his surroundings, Zevon didn't show any response.
The cave narrowed at the northern end to a tunnel that spiraled down with roughly carved steps. The rock walls were embedded with colored stones that shone in the globelight. They twinkled and sparkled like Christmas lights.
The stairway ended at a huge cave with several entrances. Andia strode to one of the ancient wooden doors and pressed a code into the key lock. The door creaked open. There weren't many doors like this one. Technology had replaced the old wooden ones with smooth grack alloy that slid open. Christophe stroked his hand over the wood and reveled in the way it seemed warm to the touch.
The interior beyond the door was more amazing still. Andia's guard had a taste for history. Wooden furniture with natural fiber cushions filled the room, and ancient texts were on shelves. Expensive. Not many people had old books preserved so well.
Mya was an interesting person who Christophe now regretted was gone. He glanced at Andia. Had she been close to the guard? Or had she just used the woman's skills? It was hard to tell from Andia's face, but the way her fingers tightened on one of the cushions as she strode past seemed to indicate strong feelings.
"Sit down and be comfortable,” she said. “I'll return in a moment."
Andia disappeared behind a doorway to the right, leaving the two men alone.
It wasn't enough that they'd been through hell. Now they had to put each other through hell. Clearly what happened at the conclave made Zevon think Christophe wouldn't want him. Well, fuck that. Christophe strode across the room and gripped Zevon's neck.
His head snapped up and he glared at Christophe, but it didn't deter him. Christophe pressed his lips to Zevon's and demanded a response, any response.
Zevon shoved him away. “Stop it."
"No,” Christophe said softly and came right back. Zevon's hands came up to shove him back, but Christophe gripped them, used them to yank him closer.
Their lips almost touched when Zevon said, “She's going to break me, Christophe. And I won't be the man you loved."
"Shut the fuck up,” Christophe murmured and kissed him. This time, Zevon took over, plundering Christophe's mouth violently, his hands clamped on either side of Christophe's head.
Nothing had changed. When they came up for air, Christophe stopped Zevon's next attack with one word. “Love."
"What?” Zevon blinked.
"You will always be the man I love. Always."
But the words didn't have the effect Christophe had hope for. Zevon stared at him and then stepped back. “And Mistress Andia? What is she to you?” He released Christophe abruptly. Zevon's voice was gravelly when he spoke. “Do you