Obsession is the height of passion, but what does one do when they find themselves enthralled with their enemy. Talamayas Sol loses his mother when he stumbles upon a mage in the deserts of his territory, and he is plunged into a despair he's never...
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Wren's bones were creaking by the time he headed to bed. Even the baths hadn't eased the tension from his shoulders after dealing with Tala and Neil's issues. After, they'd started some basic training, and Shan had thought it funny to drag Wren in, so now he was exhausted. He'd gotten weak in sitting around here, so it wasn't an entirely bad idea to get back into shape.
Neil had accepted working with Tala, even though he looked as if he'd been about to walk out on him. If Wren hadn't said something, he very well might have, and Wren knew that was not what Silvia Copse wanted. The poor girl had gotten dragged into the infiltrator training that was normally given when mages were children, and that was bound to be rough for her. It was best that she came back to these two overly-proud leaders not fighting amongst themselves.
If someone had told him back all those years back that someday he would be coming to Talamayas Sol's emotional rescue, he'd have named them a traitor to their kind. Wren doubted the man appreciated it, so he wasn't surprised as Tala stalked toward him in the hall before he could squirrel himself away in their room.
Tala was on him like a storm front, and Wren braced himself as the man cut him off from the room with a hand to the wall. It was the first moment that they'd been alone together since he'd spoken out of turn, and Wren couldn't meet the man's eyes. If he wanted to yell at him, he might as well just get it over with. The silence was worse, and Wren shuddered as Tala leaned into him and brought his face to the side of his neck. Tala moved closer and pressed him into the wall with his entire body.
"Tala, please," Wren said, his hand shifted to the man's chest to keep him away, but it offered little protection when Tala wanted to be in his space. "I know you're angry with me, but this sort of thing is unnecessary."
"I am not angry with you," Tala breathed against his neck, pressing him so hard into the wall now that it was hard from him to breathe anything but the man in. The desert assaulted his senses, sand and dust from them training outside along with Tala's natural sweet but spicy scent, almost like cinnamon. "I want you, Wren," Tala purred into his throat, and Wren turned a heavy shade of red.
"What does that even mean, Tala?" Wren asked in desperation to make any of this make sense. Why did he like to sleep next to him, to be this close, to swallow him in the dark magic that flowed from his skin?
"I have no idea," Tala finally said, and a pitiful laugh escaped him. "I don't know, Wren. I just want you, all the time, anywhere, near me, with me, touching me, fighting for me. You didn't have to do what you did for me today. Any normal mage would have stayed quiet, let whatever it was play out, but you defended me, kept my closest ally from walking out on me, and I can't stand how it feels to not be touching you. I don't know why or what it means, but I just want this." Tala drooped his face on Wren's shoulder with a frustrated groan, and Wren sighed.
"I'm tired. Can you at least be all over me where I can fall asleep?" Wren pleaded, and Tala lifted his face. Crimson rolled over his eyes with some sort of hunger that was unnerving, but Tala let him walk into their room.
