Page 5 of Silver & Gold

And yet, Seth walked back to him through the moonlight-dappled grove. He crouched before the sack of food that Raider had brought and rummaged inside it.

“You stole wine?” Seth asked incredulously.

“It was a vineyard.”

“You went all the way to the vineyard? There were closer houses.”

“They were poor.”

Seth stilled. Then he tore a loaf of bread and held out half of it to Raider. “Here. Eat.”

“I can’t. I don’t feel well.”

Seth stilled again. “Then rest. You’ll eat before we move on.”

Raider swallowed hard and lay down with his back to Seth and his face to the darkness.

CHAPTER 3

SETH COULDN’T TAKE IT. He couldn’t fucking take it. He tried to tell himself that a man who had killed his own lover deserved to suffer nightmares. On a certain logical level, he believed that.

But he couldn’t handle the way Raider was flinching in his sleep, couldn’t listen to the awful sounds he was making. So Seth gathered himself up from the cold, lonely spot of ground he’d chosen. He intended to shake Raider and withdraw, to be harsh even in his mercy, but that wasn’t what he found himself doing. As though something other than his brain was controlling his body, Seth knelt beside Raider.

Seth was surprised, in these circumstances, that Raider had fallen asleep. Seth hadn’t been able to.

The sand serpent fight must have exhausted him. It had exhausted Seth too but not on the same level. Raider had killed that ancient behemoth by letting quicksilver rip through his body. It had burst from within to encase him in spectacular pearlescent armor, spearing out from him to fight the sand serpent like a creature itself.

Though the quicksilver had been implanted in Raider’s body for the purpose of murder, less than twelve hours ago, Raider had used it to save hundreds, even thousands, of people. And that brutal quicksilver had both exhausted and wounded him. It had even, Seth forced himself to recognize as he thought back on Raider’s silence in the aftermath of the battle, frightened him.

And he was frightened now. When Seth laid a hand on Raider’s shoulder, Raider unconsciously flinched away. A sound of distress escaped his lips and the words, “Please—don’t.”

It was those words that did it.

Those awful words that Seth had heard Raider mumble so many times during his nightmares. They cut straight through all the doubt and confusion and anger that had cluttered up Seth’s mind for the past twelve hours.

The instant he heard those words, Seth hated himself. Fiercely and abruptly. Because the truth was so fucking obvious and he’d been so fucking blind.

For the love of the gods, how many of these nightmares did he have to witness to figure it out? How many times did Raider have to risk his own life for others before Seth would actually understand the kind of person he was?

Seth didn’t know how everything went together in Raider’s past, but it didn’t matter. It should never have mattered. All that should ever have mattered was that Seth knew this man. Facts aside, Seth knew him.

Whatever had led to the quicksilver implantation, whatever had led to the death of the emperor, it could not have been any kind of evil in Raider’s heart. Because there was none. Not once, ever, had Raider displayed any.

That realization raised a question, one that should have occurred to Seth earlier. It hadn’t because it suggested something too horrifying to be real, too nightmarish.

And yet …

As soon as the question entered Seth’s mind, he was pretty damn sure of the answer.

Fingers trembling at the horror of that possibility, Seth reached out to stroke Raider’s hair, hoping to ease him into peaceful sleep, but Raider woke with a cry. He wrenched away and scrambled around to face Seth.

Seth couldn’t see as well in the dark as Raider could, but he didn’t need to. He could hear the ragged breathing. He could feel Raider’s fear.

“It’s okay,” Seth said quietly. “It’s me, it’s okay.”

Raider didn’t move. Gods, Seth hated hearing him breathe like that, like he could barely get any air.

Seth was right. He knew he was right. It wasn’t even a question anymore. It was a terrible, unbearable truth. It made his eyes sting and his throat tighten. It made him sick with himself.