Page 60 of Zel
How the Immortal King of old could be so tender a partner, Zel would never understand, but however cursed Ulrich might see himself, his time alone had clearly softened him. Or maybe Zel had. “You still want me despite not knowing my own answer?”
“I would want you, Zel, even if you never know.”
The tears, joyful ones always closer to the surface when Ulrich was this kind, flooded Zel’s eyes with warmth. Never could he doubt that he loved this man, nor could he doubt why, even if Ulrich had yet to say it back.
Zel lifted onto his toes to kiss Ulrich more passionately than the tender peck he had been granted. In his fervor, some of his hair unfurled and wrapped around Ulrich’s arms and legs, holding him bound.
“Sorry!” Zel gasped out of their kiss once he realized.
“Do not be.” Ulrich’s expression was startled, yes, but hardly fearful, as he looked at the wrappings that almost appeared like ribbon, tying his hands behind his back and his legs together. “It appears emotion is your trigger. Common enough with magic. You simply need to believe you can control it, and you will. Unless, of course, this is what you had planned for me.”
Zel flushed. Tying up his sorcerer had not been his intention—he didn’t think. Perhaps his hair knew better what his inner self craved. For now, he released Ulrich. “Practice would be safer first, but it is easier to believe in myself around you.”
“Then why are you practicing alone?” Ulrich stretched his arms with an elegant flex once they were free. “I will be beside you for this mission, after all.” He gestured pointedly toward the magical door.
Perhaps the two of them in the sparring room was the right idea.
A full turn of the key brought them there, and where Zel had continuously failed while practicing alone, he found it easier in Ulrich’s presence to will his hair to obey his commands. Lashingout here to trip up Ulrich’s ankles. Lashing out there to grab the sword from his hands. Lashing out everywhere, from multiple angles, and tying Ulrich up again with arms taut or bound behind him, and legs tied together too.
The way Ulrich grinned at Zel when he used the bindings to force the sorcerer to his knees gave Zel an idea for something very special for the night before they were to raid the Thieves Guild.
Something very special indeed.
ULRICH
Calling Zel wondrous did not do him justice. He was talented, generally collected, and as much as he had been honed into a vicious killer, a pure heart remained if a little tainted at its edges.
Zel did not wish for his freedom if it meant harm would come to his parents, or to Rudy, or to too many of his fellows, for Zel believed they were as trapped as he had been. Few joined the Thieves Guild for the fun of it, Zel had said, but because they had no choice. Especially in recent winters as famine took greater hold over the kingdom, people were desperate, and Zel cared what happened to them. He wanted a happy end for all.
It was sweet, and stung Ulrich knowing he could not give Zel all he longed for. But he could help unseat Lothar, free the guild for more charitable leaders, and pave the way for the better future Zel had earned.
That they could not do the ritual early was no lie on Ulrich’s part. The spell was particular. And thankfully, Zel had not tried asking to postpone their raid until after the month was up, for he feared that if he did not return successful that very night, Lothar might take it for failure, lash out against Zel’s parents, or besiege the tower at an inopportune moment.
The only answer was to go early the evening of Zel’s final night and complete a different mission before returning to the tower to complete Ulrich’s.
Since Ulrich had never been inside the Thieves Guild, they could not port directly there or to where Lothar might be, but as long as Ulrich got them into the city, Zel could lead them the rest of the way. Just like he had for their night on the town. Ulrich wished they could have had more nights like that.
But he would leave Zel a beautiful life, with all of Ulrich’s treasures bestowed upon him.
Whenever they were apart during the final days, Ulrich worked to change his spells to accept Zel as their master. All would answer to him, including the shelf with Ulrich’s dearest trinkets. It was the end Zel and his parents had hoped for. To win the tower, defy Lothar, and live happily ever—
“Zel?” Ulrich had entered the main room in search of him. It was nearing their evening meal, but instead of finding Zel bent over more letters or practicing his skills, there was no Zel, and upon the writing desk was a flickering candle.
The flame illuminated a piece of parchment. Next to the parchment rested the magical key, and written in Zel’s neat scrawl were the simple words:
My bedchamber.
Ulrich wasted no time in giving the key a three-quarter turn in the lock.
Sunshine assaulted his senses even when the true sun was already setting.
Zel turned at Ulrich’s entrance with an excited radiance in his expression like he had been waiting with bated breath. He looked stunning. He was ornamented like a king’s courtesan, something Ulrich had once known well, and yet he couldn’t imagine his heart had ever beaten faster when he looked upon one of them than the way it hammered in his chest now.
Hair even more immaculately woven than usual, Zel wore Ulrich’s mother’s hairpin but had also adorned himself with various bejeweled combs, rings, bangles, and necklaces—though not Rudy’s, which he had not worn since slaying his fellow guild members and sending Rudy away.
If Zel wore anything beneath his loosely tied robe, it was well hidden. Magenta, violet, and gold made up the elegant silk garment, another item Zel must have created with the loom. It fell open, the sides nearly revealing the edges of pink nipples, and was cinched lower than his navel at his hips. A bejeweled belt glittered there as well, mostly hidden beneath the fabric.
Zel crossed the room to an end table beside the bed. He had a bottle of wine waiting, already poured into two goblets. “This is from the treasure room.” He retrieved both goblets and offered one to Ulrich. “May I assume it is simply a good vintage and not poison or some strange elixir?”
