Page 35 of Ryld's Shadows
A little anxiety niggled at him. Traveling was new, traveling by train something quite new—but he refused to give into it. He would be with Ryld. They would have Kai with them, who was by all accounts, an experienced and jaded traveler.
He’d helped Ryld with his packing first, which had gotten Ryld all turned around since he didn’t know what he might want or need and was in danger of packing enough for a year. But once Hank had gone through some options and checked the weather out in Oregon with him, he’d settled into more practical selection. Ryld didn’t show it in ways that most people did, but he was also anxious and maybe a little excited.
Going west to meet a teacher among the aelfe… Hank hoped it would be a good thing for Ryld. Drifting in and out of his medicated haze in the artificial cave, he’d heard some of his conversations with Kai. What he’d heard…Ryld… My poor Ryld…
He’d never known real parents. Never had a family. Never had someone who would hold him when he was upset when he was a kid. Goddesses, what a terrible way to grow up. Somehow, Ryld retained the need to be fair. To be kind. Even though his childhood had been filled with cold, uncaring adults and from his adolescence on had been filled with nothing but fear and pain.
So much pain.
It’s stupid to hate all drow for what was done to him. I know that. But I don’t think I’d be able to keep from punching some drow faces if I ever met thoseparticulardrow. Which also was never going to happen, so raging at them wasn’t going to do anyone any good, either. Still, how could anyone be so cruel? It just wasn’t something he could wrap his head around.
As he’d recovered, he made sure to take Ryld’s hand whenever he was near and to coax Ryld up onto the bed for what the little guy called “snuggling practice”whenever he could.
The phone on the hall table rang as soon as Hank rolled his suitcase next to Ryld’s.
“Mr. Onyx-Wainwright?” The kawauso driver’s voice was one Hank recognized right away. Otter folk had distinct squeaks at the ends of their words and this driver had ferried them around several times before. “I’m out front for you when you’re ready.”
“We’ll be right down, Yuki. Thank you.” Hank turned to call into the apartment. “Ryld? Are you ready? It’s time to go.”
“Yes. I am ready.” Ryld came from the direction of his bedroom.
Hank gaped at him. He couldn’t help it. Ryld had pulled his hair back in a long braid, the silver strands glinting against darker and lighter strands. He wore a dark blood-red long-sleeved tunic embroidered with gold and black stylized dragons. A row of toggles down the front kept the tunic closed and it was fitted as if made for him. The Asian style suited him very well, as did the immaculately fitted black trousers.
“Hank? Are you unwell?”
“I’m just a little bowled over. That looks really good on you.” Hank indulged himself, letting his gaze wander up and down. “Really good.” He held his arms out with a laugh, looking down at his own plain black T-shirt and jeans. “And I feel underdressed.”
Ryld tilted his head slightly. “No, you are covered.” Before Hank had a chance to explain that wasn’t what he meant, Ryld looked startled. “I forgot something.” He turned around and dashed back into his bedroom, returning a moment later with a white box. “This is for you.”
“Really?” Hank took the box and found himself at a loss. “Should I open it now?"
All he got back was a nod, Ryld’s hands beginning to curl in on themselves.Crud. He was making Ryld nervous, so he opened the box and carefully folded aside the tissue paper to reveal a shirt—button-down, long sleeved, in a butter-soft black cotton with a faint gray pattern. Wolves. They were wolves. Shadow wolves.
“It’s gorgeous. Your pattern?”
Another nod.
“Well, I’ll just have to wear this now.” Hank stripped off his T-shirt and stuffed it in the front pocket of the suitcase before he pulled on the shirt. It fit beautifully and felt… He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it feltgood. “It’s too nice to leave in the box.”
Ryld shifted from foot to foot. He stared without speaking so long Hank was about to ask if he’d done something wrong. Then Ryld brought a hand up and traced his fingers light as a breeze over Hank’s chest.
“Seeing you in it makes me want to kiss you again,” he said softly.
A pleased shiver ran down Hank’s spine. He put a finger under Ryld’s chin and tipped his head up. “A quick thank-you kiss. ‘Cause we have to go.”
He leaned down, his free hand covering Ryld’s which he pressed flat to his heart, and claimed Ryld’s lips in a gentle kiss, almost able to keep a pleased moan inside. Almost.
A quick kiss. That’s all they had time for. Indeed. What he hadn’t planned on was that Ryld would sway closer, press along the whole front of his body. It took an act of sheer will not to wrap him in his arms and pull him up tighter. Instead he made himself pull back.
Ryld stood completely still and looked as shellshocked as Hank felt.
“Can we leave later?” Ryld asked.
“No, hon.” Hank gave him a quick kiss on the nose to temper his words. “Kai’s waiting for us at the station, and the trains leave at specific times. So later won’t work. But we do have a room on the train. And we could, um, pick this up tonight.”
“Tonight.” Ryld managed to pack a wealth of feeling into the single word, very much testing Hank’s resolve. Somehow they got down to the waiting car and off to the station with Hank every bit as distracted as Ryld usually was.
Parts of him were definitely acting like horny teenage half-goblin parts, and that wasn’t at all how he wanted to walk through Penn Station for the first time. Luckily, he’d managed to think about cold ponds and that revolting strawberry soda one of his work colleagues had loved so much and he’d calmed down enough not to embarrass himself when they got there.
