Page 135 of Lord of the Lone Wolf
“I am pleased you are enjoying it,” Kitsuki replied, though his focus remained fixed on the careful way Maseo held himself, the subtle signs of ongoing pain that no amount of gratitude could mask.
“It’s been nice getting to know everyone, too,” Maseo continued. “Kisano, Sephen, and Fersen have done so much to make me feel welcome here. It’s strange how I went from having no friends to having so many here in Tiora.”
The wistful note in Maseo’s tone revealed years of isolation, reflecting a young man who had grown up surrounded by people who saw him only as a weapon or a reminder of old grievances.
“I am glad you have found a home here,” Kitsuki said.
“I’ll never stop being grateful for that and for everything you and Auslin have done for me,” Maseo replied, his voice thick with emotion.
Both Kitsuki and his dragon basked in the warmth of Maseo’s gratitude, knowing they had provided safety and acceptance to someone who had known precious little of either. “It is my pleasure to take care of you,” Kitsuki said, the words carrying more weight than he dared to acknowledge. “Now and always.”
The promise hung in the air between them, charged with meanings neither could articulate. Maseo’s good eye widened as if he had detected something surprising in Kitsuki’s tone.
“I’ll never stop being amazed by that,” Maseo said. “You’ve given me so much when others would have turned me away either because of my past or who my father was.”
The vulnerability and wonder born from a lifetime of expecting rejection rather than acceptance made Kitsuki’s chest tightenwith fierce protectiveness. “It bears repeating that neither Auslin nor I hold your past with Kio or Nasume against you. It is time you freed yourself from the burden of that history and allowed yourself to live the life you choose among people who care for you.”
Maseo blushed again as he bowed his head. “I’ll do my best.”
“That is all I can ask,” Kitsuki replied, though his dragon urged him to say more, to speak the words that burned in his throat like swallowed fire.
But Kitsuki could not burden Maseo with confessions while he was still healing and finding his place in a world that had offered him kindness after a lifetime of abuse. The trinity bond would reveal itself when Maseo was strong enough to understand its meaning and choose whether to accept his fate.
For now, it was enough to provide comfort, companionship, and the gradual building of trust and affection that would someday bloom into something deeper.
“Would you care to join me for lunch?” Kitsuki asked, compromising with his dragon’s demands by inviting Maseo to stay close a little longer. “I would appreciate the company.”
Maseo’s face lit up with genuine pleasure. “I’d like that very much.”
As they rose from their chairs, Kitsuki noticed Maseo’s careful movements, the way he favored his injured side without complaint. The sight renewed his determination to ensure that Maseo’s remaining recovery would be filled with warmth, acceptance, and the gradual understanding that he had found a place where he belonged.
Soon, his dragon whispered with satisfaction as they made their way toward the dining hall.Soon, he will understand that he is ours, as we are his.
For now, Kitsuki would content himself with the quiet joy of Maseo’s company and the growing bond that drew them together. The future would bring its own revelations and challenges.
But today, it was enough to share a meal with the man who had unknowingly claimed his heart, to bask in the warmth of a friendship that held the promise of something precious.
Chapter 47
Maseo
Time blurred as Maseo waited for Liros to return to the Divine Realm. It frustrated him to wait so long when it felt like he lost to the necromancy a little more each day. He clung to the hope that Kizoshi promised Liros would return before it was too late, but waiting proved challenging.
Kitsuki was scarce due to his responsibilities, but any stolen moment with him was a treasured memory for Maseo. But as much as he had enjoyed spending time with Auslin, Sephen, Kisano, and Fersen, he had missed his other friends.
While it was a disconcerting reminder of how much time had passed, the triumphant return of the Valzerna army lifted Maseo’s spirits, but each step dragged as he made his way to the barracks. The bandages wrapped around his torso restricted his breathing, and the patch over his left eye itched, but he resisted the urge to scratch it.
He pushed his battered body because he needed to see his friends. After killing his own father and almost dying, Maseo craved the normalcy of their banter and camaraderie. Perhapshe had sustained more head damage than he believed, because he even missed Bitris and Rylan’s shameless flirting.
He hadn’t been able to say goodbye before Kitsuki whisked him away from the battlefield, his body ravaged by necromantic wounds that refused to heal. The last time his bunkmates had seen him was the morning of the final battle.
The familiar door to their shared quarters stood before him. Maseo paused, taking a shallow breath to steady himself before pushing it open.
The sound of laughter greeted him, a reassuring mix of Bitris’s boisterous laugh, Drayden’s softer chuckle, and Sudryl’s dry snicker. They were unpacking their gear, settling into barracks life as if they hadn’t just fought a war. The normalcy of it tightened Maseo’s throat with emotion.
Bitris spotted him first, his yellow eyes widening with delight. “By the three realms, our conquering hero returns!” He abandoned the tunic he’d been folding and bounded across the room with the enthusiasm of a baby dragon. “I thought the king kept you for himself.”
Before Maseo could protest, Bitris enveloped him in an enthusiastic embrace. Pain exploded across Maseo’s ribs and back, forcing a strangled cry from his lips.
