Stalking Darkness

you mean?” She rolled quickly on top of him, pinning him playfully as she straddled his thighs. “And if I had relinquished my claim to you, sir?” she challenged. “What would you have done then, eh?”
    “I can’t say,” he replied, pulling her mouth to his with one hand, finding the generous curve of her hip with the other. “Perhaps it would’ve been handy, having a bed mate who’s good with a sword.”
    “It’s true I don’t bring anything sharp into bed with me.”
    “Mmmmm—I can feel that,” Micum rumbled contentedly. “Perhaps it’s just as well things worked out the way they did.”
    Kari moved over him like a blessing, her lips hot against his brow. “I like to think so.”
    Seregil hadn’t shared a bed with Alec since their last visit to Watermead. He’d thought nothing of it then; such arrangements were common, especially in old country houses.
    But this time was different.
    He wasn’t certain just when his feelings had gotten away from him, or why. Months of close living and shared dangers, perhaps, together with the genuine affection Seregil knew had existed between them almost from the start.
    It figures
, he thought dourly as they undressed for bed. He never could seem to love anyone who could return the favor.
    Not that Alec didn’t care for him in his own honest, Dalnan way—Seregil had no doubt of that. But he did doubt that Alec’s heart skipped a dizzy beat at the mere thought of sliding in between shared sheets.
    Out of deference to Alec’s modesty—or so he told himself—he kept his long shirt on and pulled up the coverlet.
    The old bedstead, built for company, was a wide one and Aleckept to his side of it as he climbed in. “You’re quiet all of a sudden,” he remarked, oblivious to Seregil’s inner turmoil.
    “All that wine last night left me tired.” Seregil mustered a yawn. He could go sleep in the hall, he supposed, but that would take some explaining later on. Better to stay here and hope he didn’t talk in his sleep.
    Alec settled against the bolsters with a sigh of contentment. “Me, too. At least we can get some rest while we’re out here. So quiet. No jobs or midnight summons. No worries—” His eyes drifted shut and his voice trailed off into deep, even breathing.
    No worries
.
    Seregil sat up to extinguish the lamp, but paused, caught by the sight of Alec’s thick, honey-gold hair fanned out across the pillow. His expression was peaceful, guileless. His lips curved in a faint smile as if good dreams had already come to him.
    For an instant Seregil wondered what it would feel like to have that golden head against his shoulder, the warmth of Alec’s body against his own.
    If it had been simple lust Seregil felt, he could easily have driven it off. But what he felt for Alec at that moment went far beyond that.
    Seregil loved him.
    Little more than the length of a tailor’s yard separated them, but it might just as well have been the breadth of the Osiat Sea. Allowing himself nothing more than a deep, silent sigh, he blew out the lamp and lay back, praying for sleep.
    Rising early the next morning, Micum found Alec stacking wood in the kitchen. The boy had changed his city clothes for plain garb and was sharing some joke with Arna and young Jalis. Watching a moment from the doorway, Micum was struck again by how easily Alec seemed to fit into the rhythm of the household.
    Or anywhere else, come to that
, he amended, thinking of all the roles and identities Alec had played in the time he’d been with Seregil. They were like water, those two, always shifting shape.
    “It’s a fine day for hunting,” he announced. “The deer have been thick up on the ridge this year. His lordship up yet?”
    Alec brushed dirt and bark fragments from his tunic. “He was still buried somewhere under the covers last time I looked. I don’t think he slept well last night.”
    “Is that so?” Micum went to the kitchen door and reached outside for a handful of loose snow. “Well then, he wants waking up, doesn’t he? I’m sure he’d hate to miss such a beautiful morning.”
    Mirroring his grin, Alec got himself a handful and followed Micum to the bedroom.
    The shutters were still closed, but there was enough light for them to make out the long form beneath the quilts on Seregil’s side of the bed.
    Together
, Micum signed to Alec.
    Stalking in silently, they threw back the quilts and launched their assault, only to find they’d ambushed a bolster.
    The