Free Byzantine Heartbreak by Tracy Cooper-Posey

Although...” He shrugged. “I am curious. Salathiel was human.”
    Ryan’s smile faded and a faint note of puzzlement replaced it. “He was,” he said evenly. “At first.”
    Cáel glanced at Nayara, to see that she was watching and listening carefully. She was motionless, as if she were on high alert. Well, that was understandable, if simply talking about this was embarrassing for them. The subject matter was painful, too.
    Tragedy was always painful to speak about.
    Cáel leaned back in his chair, to remove any notion of threat or intimidation. “You’ve both impressed on me any number of times the fact that you consider me to be inferior. Merely human. Yet you took a mere human as a lover, once. I admit I’m curious as to how that happened.”
    Ryan glanced at Nayara. She nodded. “I’ll begin. You can finish.”
    * * * * *
     
    Constantinople. 1443 A.D.
    Ryan Daniel Deasmhumhain had been living in Constantinople for nearly a year and in all that time, he had been staying in Nayara’s house, a permanent guest, when he became her lover. It happened abruptly, without planning, but not unexpectedly.
    For the year he had been living under her roof, Ryan had been slowly and silently driving Nayara crazy with unrequited lust and a need so raw and strong that she would spend nights walking the streets to cool her ardour.
    Then Ryan’s lazy gaze would catch hers across the dinner table, or from where he sprawled on one of the divans...or when he strode in from the street. It seemed whenever he walked into the room, his gaze caught hers and there was a moment of magic that left her throbbing with anguished need.
    But at the same time, her love for Salathiel was stronger than ever. They were the happiest they had ever been. Salathiel was spending more time at home than ever before and spending more time with her than she could remember. His businesses were growing and he was rich and successful. Even Ryan was thriving because of his association with Salathiel. It was a period of blessed bounty.
    Nayara would not jeopardise these days, not even for a moment with Ryan, or the touch of his lips, which she yearned for.
    Mid-summer arrived and the solstice festival raged in the streets outside. The three of them gathered in the cool inner terrace and Salathiel drank wine chilled in the well.
    “It has been an extraordinary year,” Salathiel said, lifting his bronzed cup. “I think you have been a lucky charm for us, Ryan. Since you have arrived here, we have had good fortune everywhere.”
    “Coincidence,” Ryan drawl, from his lounging position on the divan across from where Salathiel lay with Nayara pulled up against him on his extra long couch. Between them lay a low table, holding dishes of sweetmeats and treats from far off lands that Ryan and Salathiel had brought back on their ships, or their captains had brought to them, for they were the owners of fleets of ships now. “It was a good year and I happened to arrive at the same time. Our kind are usually considered a curse, not a blessing, Lathe.”
    Salathiel shook his head vigorously in denial. Nayara could feel the movement through the contact his body had against her back and buttocks. “I would dispute that with my dying breath,” Salathiel declared, his voice lifting in anger. “You...both of you...have enriched my life in ways that could not possibly be considered a curse. That is fear that speaks, from the mouths of those who do not understand you.”
    “Quite likely, yes,” Ryan agreed. “But our lives are not always as peaceful as you have allowed them to be, of late.”
    Salathiel fell silent.
    Nayara wondered what sort of life Ryan had led before he had met Salathiel. The little hints he had given, like this one, seems to paint a dark picture. But then, her life had dark stretches, too.
    She pressed herself up closer against Salathiel.
    In response, his arm pulled her in tighter against him, as if he sensed her sudden need for comfort and