Desert Fire (Legend and Lore Book 3) (5 page)

“You are still in love with Kamoor,” he commented, the only thing he could think of saying.
 

Khatlah nodded against him, a sob escaping him. “But I like you a lot, too. I really do.”
 

“It is no matter, because Kamoor is still in love with you.”
 

“He hates me,” Khatlah countered. “After that... he has not been able to be in the same room as me. So he is not in love with me, he hates me. He will never look at me the same again because of that time, and I did not even do anything! I am hated for something I did not do, for some low lie someone has fed him. Why would someone do something like that?”
 

Yes, why would they? Brand rested his chin against Khatlah’s head, the material of the head-cloth soft against his cheek. “Sometimes people act like they hate a person when they really don’t. They act like they hate them because they have no other choice or because they know no other way to act. But the real feelings can be quite the opposite.”
 

Brand should know that better than anyone. How many years had he treated Garrick like crap, only because he was afraid of his father? How much grief had he caused Garrick for all those years, just because he had been too terrified to tell him the truth? He had been such a bastard... It was a wonder Garrick had even bothered to take him with him to Vortigern at all after Brand had dealt with that lindworm.
 

And yet Brand had continued to be a bastard afterwards. He had avoided Garrick, had not wanted to talk to him... because he couldn’t. Because Garrick had another lover, the witch he was bound to, and there was no space for Brand in his new life. So Brand had left. He had to get away—get his own life. Get over Garrick, once and for all.
 

And just when he thought he might’ve found what he needed... it turned out that that person was still in love with someone else, someone who treated him like crap. Someone so like what Brand had used to be.

Chapter Three

Wolf

Khatlah pulled away when he had calmed down, and he looked up at Brand searchingly. His eyes were still wet, his face bore clear evidence of his crying, and yet Brand still wanted to kiss him so badly.
 

“You speak like you have experience,” Khatlah commented, the desire for Brand to share his story clear in his voice.
 

“I have,” Brand replied. “Except I was the bastard in my story, the one acting like Kamoor does towards you now.”
 

“Was this towards this Lorcan?”
 

Brand couldn’t help but smile slightly at that. “No, Lorcan is... he is a very powerful witch, and he has a lover whom he has been with for a very long time. No, my friend’s name is Garrick. He’s a shifter, like me; we were part of the same pack. But my father did not approve of my friendship with him, and I... I was too afraid of what he would do to me. So I distanced myself, stopped talking to him, and when I did I was not kind. Garrick really thought I hated him. He probably still does.”
 

“You never made amends?”
 

“No.” Brand shook his head. “He tried talking to me after I warned him to get out of the village. The pack did not like that he had gone and got himself bound to a witch.
 
I was severely punished for warning him, then banished. Garrick brought me back to the fortress, Lorcan’s fortress. But I... Garrick had fallen in love with his witch, and I would cause him nothing more than grief by being there, for I just could not like his lover, even though he seemed really sweet. So once I was healed, I left.”
 

Khatlah’s hand was suddenly at his jaw, caressing his face softly. When Brand looked up at him, Khatlah bent forward so that their foreheads rested together. “So you claim Kamoor does not hate me, that he in fact is still in love with me.”
 

“I do.” The words hurt coming out, but Brand could not lie. He had lied almost all his life, he could not do it anymore. “I am absolutely certain of it.”
 

Khatlah closed his eyes, squeezing them shut as if he were in pain. But his fingers did not stop caressing Brand’s face, and Brand revelled in the soft feel of them ghosting along his skin.
 

“What are you helping Kamoor with?” Khatlah asked then. Brand could not say if he changed the subject for distraction or if he was genuinely curious.
 

“To locate the rest of the slayers,” Brand told him quietly.

Khatlah drew a shaky breath, then pulled away. His eyes fell on the bed pallet. “Can I stay here with you tonight? Just... stay. In case you do not come back, I want... just to be with you tonight.”
 

Brand nodded and they moved over to the bed pallet, both lying down on their backs, with suitable space between them. The silence stretched on, but suddenly Khatlah rolled over, resting his head on Brand’s chest.
 

“I have been lonely for so long,” he whispered. “Before I was always with Kamoor, then when he... I was all alone after that. I do not make friends easily, even being a prince. They all think me too weird.”
 

“Why would they think you weird?” Brand asked, frowning. Khatlah seemed no different than anyone else he had seen around the palace.
 

“Because I have no interest in the matters of state, or becoming a dragon rider, or getting married and raising a family. I do not belong in one certain group. Kamoor belongs to the riders, so does Sakoptari, though when he takes the throne he will become king. My brothers are all nicely settled down. I am the only one unattached, with no goal I am working towards and that makes me unusual, someone they cannot understand, and in a society where everyone is always working towards something... it is considered weird not to be working towards anything.”
 

“But why?” Brand questioned. “Is there nothing you want to do?”
 

“I always only wanted to be with Kamoor,” Khatlah replied, then he stiffened for a moment before he broke out into hysterical laughter. “I am so pathetic, aren’t I?” he managed to get out through his laughter. “Pining away for that man for so long!”
 

Brand couldn’t say much, he had been exactly the same and he could see what Khatlah saw in the Commander. He was a handsome man. Tall and with a nicely built, toned body, his skin a deep golden colour, attesting to the time he spent outside in the sun. His features were sharp and angular, and though every time Brand had seen him they had been set into a scowl, it did not make him look any less handsome.
 

“We should sleep,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse to his own ears. “Apparently I am leaving early in the morning.”
 

Khatlah stiffened against him. Then he turned away, putting his back firmly to Brand. “Yeah.”
 

All kinds of emotions roiled behind that simple word, but Brand could not focus on Khatlah long enough to figure it out. Khatlah would have Kamoor, because they had to figure out their shit sometime, and Brand... he would probably move on. Maybe he should try the Jotun Territories, see if he had any more luck making a new life for himself there.
 

He had thought briefly that he could’ve made one in the desert, but his only friend, whom he had not known for long but found himself to be extremely attracted to, was in love with someone else. And Brand just could not live with that heartache again. That would be like going back to Vortigern and living with Garrick and his little earthwitch. It was something he just could not do. Not again. And this desert country... it didn’t matter if a dragon’s fire could burn him or not, because he could not stay here. Not when the situation was what it was.

So it was better to cut his ties, when said ties were as fresh as they were. They both would heal better that way. At least he hoped they would.
 

Kamoor stood in the open space in front of the palace’s front door, his eyes boring into Brand as he exited the cool building to walk out into the burning sun. Kamoor’s dragon stood behind him, its eyes, too, following Brand as he approached them.
 

He was flanked on both sides by Sakoptari and the other man who had been to the dungeons with them, the one that had mostly stayed by the cell door. They were also standing in front of their respective dragons.
 

No other people were around, only those three. They were all dressed in the manner Brand had come to recognize as standard for this desert, only the colours of their clothing varied. Kamoor’s clothes were black, Sakoptari’s were sand-coloured, as were those of the last man, whose name Brand did not know.
 

Brand was dressed exactly the same as the day before. A new set of clothes had been by his bed when he woke, but Khatlah had been gone. He must’ve slipped out in the night, when Brand had been fast asleep.
 

“Ready?” Kamoor stared at him as Brand stopped in front of him.
 

Brand only nodded, feeling dejected by the thought of his future prospects. He was all alone in the world, with no one to turn to. Khatlah, whom he at least considered to be a friend, was absent. He should’ve been there to say goodb—

“Brand!”
 

Brand turned slightly at the shout and found himself with an armful of Khatlah, who wrapped his arms around his neck and held fast tightly. Surprised at the sudden arrival and the tight embrace, Brand hesitantly wrapped his own arms around him.
 

He watched from the corner of his eye how Kamoor’s neutral expression instantly turned into a scowl, but what really threw him was the satisfied smirk on Sakoptari’s face.
 

“You better come back,” Khatlah whispered into his ear. “You hear that? You better come back!”
 

He stepped back, arms falling away from Brand’s shoulders. He turned to Kamoor next, glaring. “He better come back. If something happens to him— If any of you do something to him—“ The warning was clear in his voice.
 

“We’ll bring your lover back, do not worry,” Sakoptari spoke up.
 

Khatlah looked at him, surprise evident in his face. Brand took in the smirk still on the crown prince’s face, then looked at Kamoor, who was still scowling. Something was going on, something he was missing completely...
 

Kamoor’s eyes suddenly cut to him, meeting Brand’s gaze head on. “Get on,” he ordered, motioning to his dragon.
 

Brand drew up short. “What?” He was not supposed to ride on that... was he?
 

“Get. On.” Kamoor grabbed his arm, hauling him up to the dragon’s side. It was geared up with something resembling a horse’s saddle. Hesitating briefly, looking at the dragon’s eyes as it turned its head to look at him, Brand climbed on.
 

Kamoor mounted in front of him, and Brand searched for somewhere else to hold on before he carefully inched his arms around Kamoor’s waist. He turned his head, looking back down at Khatlah, who was looking up at them, face unreadable.
 

Kamoor said something in his native tongue, a short, sharp word that could only be an order, and the dragon stood up properly, jostling Brand flush up against Kamoor’s back. Then it spread its wings, and moments later they were in the sky.
 

Brand had never thought about heights before, but then he had always been firmly on the ground. But... he was atop a dragon, far up in the sky, and he suddenly found himself clutching at Kamoor’s side so hard he knew Kamoor would most likely have bruises there for days. But he could not let go, because he was terrified. He was not made for heights—he was made for being on the ground, for running around in the woods.
 

The dragon glided through the sky, the enormous, powerful wings only beating once in a while to keep it up. Brand found it was better to watch the wings than to look down below.
 

He did not know how long they were in the sky, but the dragon gradually started to move towards the ground. It landed hard on the ground, jostling Brand flush up against Kamoor’s back again.
 

Scrambling down off of the dragon’s back, Brand turned to look at the woods and the mountains. It felt like it had been ages since last he had seen a tree, but he knew it really wasn’t. The events of the last days only made it seem so.
 

“We set camp here, then head out to thoroughly canvass the woods,” Kamoor spoke up.
 

Brand barely noticed as they moved around him, his eyes only for the mountains covered in woods. They were lush and green and reminded him so much of home... of the Fenris Forest, except the fact that it did not lay on a mountain.
 

“He did not leave your room last night.”
 

Brand jerked in surprise at Kamoor’s low voice coming from beside him. Turning his head, he watched Kamoor stare straight ahead, though Brand wasn’t at all sure he was actually seeing the forest.
 

“He did not leave your room.” Kamoor’s jaw clenched tight and Brand could clearly see the feelings warring inside him.
 

Brand did not say anything. Kamoor had not been kind to Khatlah, after all, so why should Brand appease his mind? Let him believe something else had been going on inside that room, let him taste the jealousy.
 

Brand turned, seeing that they had set camp in the middle of what appeared to be the ancient ruins of some house or temple. Sakoptari was within earshot, but he did not look at them, and the other man was further inside the ruins.
 

Kamoor turned on his heel, still not looking at Brand. “Sakoptari, Sarab! You will scout the east, we will take the west side. We meet back here come nightfall.”
 

Kamoor actually wanted to stay with him? Brand couldn’t help but stare at him. Did he want to stay close, to keep an eye on Brand? Or was he going to torture himself by staying with Khatlah’s supposed new lover? Or perhaps Brand would soon find himself very dead...