Page 58 of Beyond the Storm
Bellamy’s smirk bloomed into a full smile. “Kallias lives. It was only a minor wound. A scratch.”
I blinked in confusion. “No. The sword pierced him deep.” The memory of his wheezing breaths caused that ache to return to my chest.
“Did it?” He cocked his head, his dark brown eyes shining with amusement, though I didn’t know what was so amusing about this. “Perhaps you were mistaken, Spartan.”
The blood staining my hands had been no mistake. He was hiding something. However, none of that mattered… because he’d told me the one thing I’d yearned to know.
“You called him Kallias,” I said. The name suited him: beauty. And gods, he was. His raven-black hair and eyes such a deep brown they nearly matched. Eyes just like… Bellamy’s. “You are his brother?”
That was the only explanation as to why they had the same shade of eyes.
“Your interest in him intrigues me.” Bellamy stepped toward me. He smelled sweet but with a floral note. I wrinkled my nose. “Here you are staring at me, yet your thoughts are with him. My pheromones aren’t affecting you either.”
“Your pheromones?” Nikandros asked, slowly blinking as he leaned in closer, as if under a sort of trance.
Bellamy grinned at him before sliding his hand to my companion’s neck. His thumb brushed the hollow of his throat. “I find you delectable. Will you warm my bed tonight?”
Nikandros giggled before snapping his mouth shut. The fire from the nearby cooking pit reflected on his darkening cheeks. “I… well… yes, warming your bed would be an honor. Yes.” He nodded several times.
I was the one who hadn’t lain with a lover, yet he was the one behaving like a blushing maiden.
“It will be a night you’ll remember for the rest of your days.” Bellamy dipped his face to Nikandros’ jaw and placed a soft kiss there.
Nikandros shivered.
“As for you…” Bellamy’s eyes flickered back to me. “You’ll find Kallias by the river’s edge.”
“Who said I wished to find him?” I asked.
“Knowing desires is my gift,” he responded with a wink before sliding his arm around Nikandros’ waist. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a Spartan to make scream.”
Nikandros gaped like a fish out of water. He didn’t appear to need saving, however, as he was guided away.
Kallias. I could still see the warrior’s dark eyes as our gazes had locked. I could still feel his heat as he’d slumped against me, soft whimpers leaving his throat. Those whimpers had felt like daggers scraping my insides, the blade slicing through flesh and bone.
The river’s edge. That was where he waited.
Taking a breath, I stepped in that direction.
***
The booming voices of the soldiers and coinciding laughter faded as I left the celebration and neared the river. A celebration I should’ve been partaking in as well but instead walked away from it. Why did I seek out Kallias? I knew nothing about him.
But I wish to know.
Stars dusted the night sky, as though the gods gazed down upon us and our victory. Or perhaps, they gazed down on him.
The raven-haired warrior stood facing the water, his back to me. Moonlight kissed his bare torso, shining on two thin scars along his shoulder blades. How did he get them? A faint mark rested on the middle of his back—right where the sword had pierced him.
“Elasus,” he spoke without turning to me.
“You remember my name.”
“Indeed. I do.” He glanced back at me, and the profound sadness in his eyes settled over my chest like a mountain of stones. “How could I forget the male who held me as I was bleeding?”
“Bleeding, you say.” Again, I looked at his back, confused by the absence of an injury. I continued forward until I stood beside him on the riverbank. His warm scent greeted me, causing something in my stomach to tighten. “Yet, you have no wound to convey as such.”
“Must a wound be visible to bleed?” His dark eyes moved to me. “To ache?”
