Sky and Storm ( Warriors of Vis #1)(40)

“It’s too quiet,” Sky said, burrowing deeper into Storm’s embrace. Storm had been holding him tight all through their ride back to Vis. At first, Sky had tried to ride his own horse, claiming he didn’t want to be a burden. His nerves were too frayed to stand it and he kept trying to stick close to Storm. Sky’s eyes switched to this panicked, lost look every time there was too much space between them.

Storm admired Sky’s desire to forget what had happened to him and move on, but trauma this deep wasn’t something to discard the moment you were released. Who knew how long Sky had waited there, scared out of his mind, for an entire army to rape him? The threat had been real, and Storm imagined the wait had been torture. If Sky needed to be always touching Storm to get through this, then, by gods, Storm would give him that.

He knew Sky by now, knew his beautiful, stubborn husband would try to show no weakness, so that no one would think him unworthy of Storm. But these were soldiers that had been through horrors. No one would bat an eye at how a man dealt with his wounds or where he needed to be to lick them.

“Everyone, go to your quarters. Get some rest, I don’t think there will be many more chances for it after tonight.”

Fury and the few others closest to Storm nodded, then everyone disappeared. Storm’s elites and the castle guards would be watching at all times, but they knew how to stay hidden. Storm was glad for their training. If anything, Sky needed peace and quiet to feel safe again. Seeing guards surrounding them all the time maintained the panic and fear of another strike.

Storm carried his husband all the way to their chambers. To Storm’s relief, he didn’t feel light as a feather as he’d been before their reconciliation. While they were searching for Sky, Storm had been afraid they’d find him emaciated, nothing but a carcass of the beautiful man he was. It would have been a minor chore to nurse Sky back to health, but that would have probably meant having to leave him behind. Storm never wanted to do that again.

“We’re here, my love,” Storm said as he set Sky on their bed, caressing wild strands away from Sky’s face.

Sky’s only reply was a weak, tired smile and a moan when Storm’s skin touched his face. Storm didn’t care about clothes or cleaning themselves up. It could wait while they rested. He took his and Sky’s boots off, then sunk in the bed, next to his husband. Sky moved closer to Storm, clinging to him and touching him with all his body. It warmed and broke Storm’s heart at the same time. He’d always loved how much Sky wanted to be close to him. But he also knew it was pain and trauma that pushed him further now. Time and Storm’s care would heal all this.

***

It couldn’t have been more than a few hours from their arrival to Vis. Storm pushed himself up, groggy and unsure why he’d awoken. Their room was dark, only a feeble ray of light squeezing through their shutters. Storm sat against the headboard, gathering Sky in his arms and trying to focus.

Muffled sounds of something being dragged, some sort of plea, and guttural replies reached him, sending every sense in his body into high alert. He pulled himself free from Sky’s embrace and lit as many of the oil lamps in the room as he could without getting too far from Sky.

As the sounds approached, higher pitched wails and Cloud’s angry voice reached him. Storm thought for a second, then went to Sky’s side of the bed. He kissed his forehead and gathered Sky in his arms. “Wake up, love.”

Sky mumbled and tried to turn away, ignoring Storm’s voice.

One more try and Sky opened his bleary eyes. He scrunched his face and whimpered. “Let me sleep.”

“Sorry, love, I think we’re about to have company.” Storm kissed the tip of Sky’s nose, making him scrunch it and bat Storm away. Still, Sky was alert enough when their doors burst open.

Despite Storm’s presence, Sky jumped and shivered. Storm growled and turned his angry gaze on the intruders. Cloud’s disheveled appearance cut down Storm’s need to jump out and punish whoever had disturbed them. His sister looked mad. Her clothes were dirty and appeared as if she’d gotten dressed without caring whether her outfit matched. Dried mud tinged their edges and covered her face and hands. Her normally glossy hair looked sleazy and was tied in a messy pony tail, some water soaked strands plastered to her face.

What shocked Storm the most were Cloud’s eyes. Red-rimmed, muddy. Crazy, he’d say, like she couldn’t focus on the reality around her, and instead was seeing something else. Something the world couldn’t see.

“Cloud, please stop,” the queen wailed, drawing Storm’s attention to her. She was on the floor, her hands clutching her hair. Cloud had a tight hold on those golden locks and had used them to pull her mother to Storm’s room. The king stood a further back, grim and tired-looking. Why he wasn’t stopping Cloud? Had his sister lost her mind? This was pure madness, even for her. Sure, she was snarky, mean, rarely looking happy if she wasn’t verbally torturing someone else. But was her pain deep enough to cause this? How had Storm missed this?

“Cloud, what are you doing?” Sky asked, his voice breaking. Storm turned just a fraction, enough to catch his husband with the corner of his eye. Sky’s eyes were tearing up, worry showing in the tight press of his lips. Like Storm, he loved Cloud, despite how mean-spirited their interaction might have seemed to the outside world.

A sob wrecked Cloud’s body and she used her free hand to wipe her tears in a brusque move. “What must be done,” Cloud muttered, and the foreboding sound of her voice was enough to ring all of Storm’s alarms. Whatever had pushed Cloud to this, it was bad.