Chains of Light Page 2

  "Delan, please!" he stammered. "Please, now!"

  "Are you ready, my Lyander?" Delan asked. "Are you ready for me?"

  "Yes. Yes, please."

  "Good. Because I'm more than ready for you," Delan said.

  He stopped what he was doing and shifted, moving off of Lyander's legs and helping him to roll onto his side. Delan kissed his hip, then moved away again, coming back with several cushions. When he was done, Lyander was laying over the pillows, his ass raised, his knees spread wide. He gasped at the cold trickle of more oil as it ran down his back, only to have it be warmed almost immediately by Delan's hands.

  Another massage up and down Lyander's back and arms left him relaxed and whimpering in pleasure, a soft counterpoint to the jingling of chains as Delan's hands brushed against them. Above him, Lyander heard Delan laugh, then his oil-slicked hands moved down over his ass, a massage that grew increasingly more intimate, until the hands fell away and were replaced by the warmth of Delan's body.

  "I can't wait any more," Delan groaned, and Lyander heard a wet, slicking sound that he realized was Delan preparing his own cock. Lyander tried to turn, tried to see Delan, but was blinded by his hair. "I'm ready to burst for want. Tell me you're ready."

  "B-e-eeen... been ready." Lyander gasped. "Please, Delan!"

  Delan groaned and pressed hard against Lyander’s ass, his fingers digging into Lyander's right hip. Lyander forced himself to try and relax as he felt something hot and slick probing against him, pressing too hard, too fast. He whimpered, and Delan stopped.

  "Easy, love. Easy," Delan whispered. He slowed, pulling back slightly, then moving in again more slowly. "Sorry. Too eager. Are you all right?"

  "Yes. Yes, Delan."

  "Should I continue?"

  "Yes, Delan!"

  Delan laughed and pushed forward again, slowly filling Lyander until his hips rested against Lyander's ass. He started pumping, thrusting again and again until Lyander was panting and moaning, his eyes closed tightly. He tugged hard on his wrists, wanting to move and touch, but helpless to do anything. Being bound was nothing new, but being completely at someone else's pleasure, unable to even touch himself, was deliciously intoxicating. Lyander howled as he crested, hearing Delan's deep, familiar rumbling gasps as he came a moment later. His movements slowed, then Delan went still, his hands warm on Lyander's skin for a moment before he shifted, leaning over and kissing Lyander's back. Then he withdrew and helped Lyander lay down flat on the couch before stretching out next to him and pulling Lyander into his arms.

  Chapter 2

  Outside the Doors

  "You're magnificent," Delan murmured, kissing Lyander's mouth, then his forehead.

  "You are, too." Lyander sighed, happy and sated, curling against Delan's warmth with his head resting on Delan's shoulder. "I'm curious. You never shout," he added, rubbing his cheek against Delan's shoulder, feeling the scar there like ropes beneath the skin.

  "Hmm?"

  "Jyase, the others. They would shout when they came. Make some kind of noise. You don't. Why?"

  Delan yawned, his fingers tracing idle designs on Lyander's back. His voice was sleepy when he answered, "Taught myself not to."

  "Whyever for?"

  "Because if you get caught, you get punished," Delan answered absently.

  "What?" Lyander tried to sit up and couldn't, as Delan's arm tightened around him.

  "What? Wait, what?" Delan blinked and looked around, slipping his arm out from underneath Lyander. He sat up and rubbed his hand over his face. "Damn, was I talking in my sleep?"

  "You said... something about being punished if you got caught?" Lyander said. "Caught doing what? Having sex?"

  "It's nothing, Lyander. It was long ago, and it doesn't matter anymore." Delan lay back down, this time facing Lyander, pulling him close and running one firm hand down Lyander's side. "No one is being punished here."

  Lyander nodded, hearing that note in Delan's voice he'd come to understand meant there would be no answers if he asked any more questions. Instead, he tugged on his chains and smiled. "Are you going to let me go?"

  "Let you go? Never. Release your hands?" Lyander felt Delan shift, felt him doing something, and he could move his hands. He stretched his arms as much as he was able, then turned and curled up against Delan, tucking his right hand back up behind his back so he could rest his left on Delan's stomach.

  "I wonder what it would be like for you to hold me," Delan said, his voice husky, stroking Lyander's tangled hair with one hand. "I wish I could take the chains off of you."

  Lyander shook his head, yawning slightly before he answered, "You can't. The chains can't come off. Ever."

  "But I've seen you at the sunset meditations with your arms free," Delan protested.

  Lyander nodded, resting his cheek on Delan's chest, running his fingers over another of Delan's scars. "When I'm needed in ritual and I need my arms, they chain my ankles," he said. "It's part of the mysteries, Delan. I really can't explain it to you. Just accept that I won't be able to be unchained. As much as I'd like to hold you, it wouldn't be..." He sighed.

  "Wouldn't be what?" Delan asked. "Lyander?"

  "I'm sorry. I can't say more. I've said too much as it is."

  Delan grumbled but didn't press. Lyander felt fingers running through his hair again. He was just starting to doze when Delan jerked, almost tumbling Lyander off of his chest.

  "What?" Lyander asked.

  "Fell asleep. We should get you bathed before meditations." Delan rose, helping Lyander to his feet. He then led the way to the inner door of the Thraya, the one that led deeper into the temple, to the sunken bathing chamber fed by underground hot springs. In the pool, Lyander relaxed in the chest deep waters and let Delan bathe him, combing the tangles out of his hair. Twisting the long length into a tail and draping it over Lyander's shoulder, Delan kissed the back of Lyander's neck. His wet hands slid over Lyander's sides, and Lyander stepped back into Delan's arms, resting against his chest.

  "Is there time?" he asked, looking up and back. "For you to have me again?"

  "Not tonight," Delan answered, leaning down to kiss Lyander gently. He kept his arm around Lyander as they walked out of the water. "But I promise I won't be late tomorrow."

  Lyander laughed, watching as Delan picked up a drying sheet. "Can you come back after meditations?" he asked as Delan rubbed him dry. "Can you stay with me tonight?"

  "Stay the whole night?" Delan asked. "You've never asked that before."

  "I've never asked that of anyone before. But I liked sleeping with you there, having your arms around me. I want you to stay. Will you?"

  "If you want me to come back, I can ask permission." He kissed Lyander gently and smiled. "I liked it, too." He wrapped the sheet around Lyander's shoulders, then stepped back to dry himself off before going to the door. As it opened, a chilly draft chased around Lyander's bare ankles. He saw the evening lanterns, bespelled to start glowing at sunset, flickering in the hall, and saw Delan frown.

  "Wait here," Delan said. He walked away, and was back a moment later. "Lyander, it's full dark out there."

  "It is?" Lyander gasped. "But..."

  "I know. Someone should have come to fetch you for sunset meditations. Where are they?" Delan looked around, then shook his head. "Let's get you dressed. Maybe... maybe they're just late."

  "How can you be late for sunset?" Lyander asked, coming over to join Delan at the door. He tried to look out into the room, but Delan stood in the way, keeping Lyander from coming out of the bathing chamber.

  "I've no idea, but—" Delan broke off and turned, his eyes wide as he stared off toward the doors that led out of the Thraya.

  Lyander heard something and was about to ask what was wrong when Delan grabbed his arm.

  "Be still!" Delan snapped, dragging Lyander back into the bathing chamber and closing the door. "Do you trust me?"

  Lyander didn't have time to react, let alone answer the question as Delan stripped the dr
ying sheet from his shoulders. He tossed it into a corner, then forced him back into the waters. They splashed into the deepest part of the pool, into a corner where the shadows were darkest. When Lyander started to ask a question, he was stunned to find himself pinned with his back against Delan's chest and with one of Delan's hands clamped over his mouth.

  "Be still!" Delan hissed into his ear.

  Lyander nodded as best he could, then gasped as he heard crashing from outside the bathing chamber.

  Delan muttered softly, then whispered, "When I tell you to, take as deep a breath as you can and hold it. Do not fight me. Trust me. Understand?"

  Lyander nodded again.

  "Now!"

  Lyander gulped in as much air as he could. A heartbeat later, Delan dragged him underwater down to the very bottom of the pool. Lyander squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore the burning he could feel in his chest, the ever increasing need to breath. It had become almost too much to bear when he felt the hand over his mouth fall away, felt Delan's hand on his chin, turning his head. Then Delan's mouth closed over his. They breathed together for far-too-short a time, then Delan pulled back, clamped his hand over Lyander's mouth, and slowly let them both rise to the surface. As they broke through, Lyander wheezed and sputtered, the sounds muffled by Delan's hand.

  "Stay here. Stay down and be ready to duck back under," Delan hissed in his ear. Lyander nodded, and Delan let him go, slipping silently through the water toward the door. He crouched there for a moment, one ear pressed to the wood, then opened it and peered out. Finally, he let out a long breath and relaxed. "It's safe," he said, turning toward Lyander. "They're gone."

  "Who?" Lyander demanded coming out of the water. "Delan, what happened?"

  Delan looked back at him, his eyes dark and cold. "Men. Men in armor. I saw them when they came into the bathing chamber. I don't think they saw us, though. Lyander, I think the Temple has been taken. We need to find a way out of here."

  Lyander shook his head, feeling as if everything was wobbling around him. "That isn't possible. The Temple cannot fall—"

  "I didn't say fall. I said it was taken." Delan rose and picked up the drying sheet. He wrapped it around Lyander, rubbing his hands up and down Lyander's arms. "They were hunting for you, Lyander. I need to hide you until Eldest Sister gets control of what is going on outside." He grimaced and looked around. "You don't have anything I would call real clothing. And those damned chains... we'll have to do the best we can. Come on."

  "We can't hide in here?" Lyander asked. He tucked his left hand behind his back and held the drying sheet closed with his right, following Delan out of the bathing chamber. Just past the door he stopped, staring at the wreckage he hadn't been able to see before, the debris that had once been couches, tables and chairs. "Delan!"

  "That trick will only work once. And look at this. They turned over and destroyed anything that a person might have been able to hide under or behind. They really want you," Delan said grimly. He went to the door that led to Lyander's enclosed garden and disappeared outside. He came back a moment later, shaking his head. "I might be able to climb that tree, but I don't see any way you could alone. Maybe if I belt us together..." He paused, frowning, then shook his head. "No. My leg wouldn't take the strain. There has to be another way."

  "Why are you so sure they want me?" Lyander asked, picking his way slowly through the debris. "They could be thieves—"

  "There's enough gold and precious gems in the sanctuary and the common areas to satisfy any thief," Delan interrupted. "There's no need for them to come this deep into the Temple if all they wanted was gold. Why they came this deep I've no idea. No one outside the temple even knows you're here." He hunted around, then tugged his trousers out from underneath a toppled bookshelf. Pulling them on, he frowned. "I don't see your loincloth anywhere. Buried, most likely. Come with me. I want to see if we can get you up that tree."

  "You're joking!" Lyander protested. Delan turned, and his serious expression was enough to silence any other protests Lyander could have made.

  "Lyander," he said softly, meeting Lyander's eyes and holding them. "I'm trying to protect you. But I can't do that if you won't help me. Trust me, and let me take care of you. Please?"

  Stunned by how serious Delan had become and by the idea that someone had broken into the Thraya, Lyander nodded. "I trust you. What are we doing?"

  "I'm going to see if I can get you up that tree," Delan repeated. "It might take me getting behind you and pushing. I don't know. If I had some way to break that chain I'd do it, and mysteries be damned." He held up one hand to stop Lyander before he could say anything. "I know. I know! Come on." He turned and headed toward the garden door, and Lyander trailed along behind him, hesitating a moment at the threshold. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and stepped out into the cold, night air. When he opened his eyes, Delan was looking at him.

  "This is going to be hard for you. I know that. I wouldn't ask this of you if we had a choice," he said softly. "Let the sheet go. It’ll only be in the way."

  Shivering, Lyander did as he was told, moving closer to Delan for both warmth and comfort. "Now what?"

  "Do what I tell you," Delan answered. He took Lyander's arm and led him to stand beneath the only tree in the garden, an ancient willow tree with branches that arched up over the towering wall. There, Delan stopped, scowling at the tree. "This isn't going to be easy," he said softly.

  "What do I need to do?" Lyander asked.

  Delan smiled at him and pointed.

  "Put one foot there. I'll help you."

  Lyander swallowed hard and did what Delan told him, fumbling clumsily as he attempted to climb without use of his hands. Delan tried keeping his palm on Lyander's back, catching him when he tottered and would have fallen, and cursing enough for the both of them when it became patently obvious his plan was not going to work.

  "I'm sorry," he said as he brought Lyander back into the Thraya. Lyander just shook his head, trying not to show how badly his teeth were chattering. Delan looked at him, then walked away, coming back with one of the fur robes that had once been strewn over Lyander's couch. He wrapped it around Lyander's shoulders. "And I'm twice an idiot for taking you out there in that cold with you wearing nothing," he added. "Lyander, I'm sorry."

  "I'm fine," Lyander said. "I'm just cold."

  "I'll make up a bed for you. We'll get you bundled up, and I'll see if I can think of something else." Delan dug around, coming up with armloads of furs and silk that he fashioned into a nest on the floor. He helped Lyander lay down, then piled more furs on top of him.

  "Delan, how did they get in? Did they break the locks on the door?" Lyander asked, huddling under the furs and slowly starting to feel warmer.

  Delan shrugged, picking his way carefully across the Thraya. He stopped and righted the table, shaking his head as it tipped back over before he answered, "Maybe. Or they got one of the Sisters to open it."

  "Do you think they would have left it open?" Lyander yawned as warmth started to turn to lethargy. "If they thought the Thraya was empty?"

  Delan looked at him, then at the door. "It's worth a try," he said. "I should have thought of that first." He started toward the door, and was halfway there when it abruptly swung open and admitted a tall armored man who was carrying a naked sword. Delan backed up a step, and Lyander struggled to sit up, pinned down by the weight of the furs. He knew this man, knew every expression on that beautiful face, the way his smile lit up his eyes. The way his dark hair drooped down over his forehead when he leaned down over the table. He knew every expression but this one – he’d never seen that hardness before, or the cruelty.

  "Jyase!" he said.

  Jyase turned at the sound of his name and smiled when he saw Lyander.

  "I told them they were idiots. That you had to be here," he said. He glanced at Delan. "You're the new caretaker?"

  "Yes," Delan said slowly. "So you're Jyase?"

  "He told you about me?" Jyase sound
ed surprised. "I'm flattered."

  "What are you doing here?" Delan asked, slowly moving toward Lyander. His eyes, Lyander noticed, never left Jyase. "The Sisters told me you left to join the army."

  "I did," Jyase agreed. He smiled, the crooked grin that Lyander had always found endearing. "I am." He turned to shout over his shoulder, "I found him!"

  Delan cursed, and it took a moment for Lyander to figure out why. When he did, he moaned softly. "You? You're with the people who attacked the Temple? Jyase, why?"

  Jyase looked at Lyander and laughed in a way that made his skin crawl. "Little Lyander. Lovely little Lyander. Are you bare under there, sweet? I've missed you—"

  "Leave him be!" Delan growled, stepped in between Jyase and Lyander. "What do you want?"

  Jyase looked evenly at Delan. "My Lady-General wants the treasure of this temple."

  "Fine. Take the fucking gold and go."

  Jyase laughed. "Really? You have no idea, do you?" As he spoke, six men filed into the Thraya. They fanned out from the door and stopped, waiting. Jyase didn't turn. He pointed his sword at Lyander. "There's the treasure of the Temple, caretaker. Right under your nose." He smiled again, and spoke to his men, "Take him."

  Chapter 3

  The Heart of the Temple

  Delan rolled onto his stomach, tried to rise, and collapsed as pain shot through his aching head. He could smell blood, and knew it was his own. He and Lyander never had a chance.

  He'd tried, though. Goddess knew he had. Tried and failed. The same way he'd failed before. But no... Delan's last memory was of Lyander screaming his name. Lyander was still alive. Delan pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, and stayed there for a moment, his head dangling between his arms, trying to find the strength to stand. Help. He needed help. Lyander needed help as well. There was still a chance to save him.