“What about your uncle? Your grandfather’s heir?”
“Arik.”
“Arik?” I lean across the table and cover Hector’s hand with mine. “Is he Luc’s father?”
“Langston was Luc and Leah’s father. Arik never had any children.”
“So…” I begin, testing my knowledge of Hector’s family, “…your grandfather had four sons. Arik, Roland, Langston, and Alden?”
Hector nods.
“Will you tell me about Arik?”
With his free hand, Hector reaches for his goblet and tightens his fingers around the pottery, but he doesn’t raise it to his lips. He just holds on to it, as if it gives him the strength he needs to speak. “He was the best man I have ever known.”
I feel the pain in Hector’s voice as he speaks of his uncle. It’s obvious how much he respected and admired him.
The fire flickers in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across Hector’s face as he speaks.
“Arik was brave, strong, and honorable. Everyone looked up to him, including me.”
Using my thumb, I graze it against Hector’s palm, hoping to comfort him. “What made him so great?”
Hector leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “He always did what was right, no matter the cost. He was fearless in battle, but he also had a kind heart. He cared for his people, and he put their needs before his own.”
“I’m sorry, Hector.” Compassion prods at my chest for everything Hector has lost.
He leans closer and tightens his hand around mine. “I’m sorry about your mother. I know I have acted like it didn’t matter. It did. I’m sorry my father was a monster.”
“Thank you.”
Gratitude shines in Hector’s eyes as he continues. “I never thanked you for choosing to heal me.”
“It was my fault… I couldn’t…” My chest clenches as I think about what would have happened had I not healed him.
“You saved my life. You gave me a chance to live, to fight, to adore you.” His words linger in the air like the smoky aroma of the nearby torch.
I swallow through the lumps in my throat. “Even the gods couldn’t have stopped me from trying to bring you back.”
“You could have let me die, but you didn’t.” Sincerity echoes in Hector’s tone as he continues. “You chose to save me. And for that, I am eternally grateful.”
My heart races as I drag my thumb along the line of his jaw, feeling the coarse bristles of his beard against my skin.
The gods help me!
I want him. Need him. The feel of his mouth on mine. His hands exploring my body.
As if sensing my thoughts, he leans down and brushes his lips against mine. And I am lost.
In him. His warmth. His familiarity.
* * *
The moon still shimmers through the windows as I jerk awake and run a hand across my eyes. I shift enough to find Hector still sleeping next to me.
Something woke me. Something dark and fierce. Something so intense, my stomach cramps, and my head spins.
I run my fingers against Hector’s arm, feeling his warmth, the assurance he’s well.
