murmured with a small smile, nuzzling against his throat. A part of him, the part that could still think beyond good-right-mine, was kind of horrified that he was practically in the High Adept’s lap.
He found it difficult to care.
“We got sidetracked,” Idhron said, putting a finger under Eridan’s chin and tipping his face up. His blue eyes were significantly softer now. “Now I will restore your memories. You will be good and will not distract me again. Understood?”
Eridan nodded. He could be good. He liked the idea of being good.
When Idhron pressed his fingers against his telepathic point and slipped inside him again, this time it wasn’t as overwhelming. The pleasure and the need were still there, but they weren’t as debilitating, because he already felt satisfied.
Eridan closed his eyes and just relaxed, quietly enjoying Idhron’s presence in his mind. It was fascinating: the confidence and familiarity with which this man navigated his mental landscape. And care, he noted with wonder. Idhron was very careful, his mental touch soothing and never hurtful as he trudged through Eridan’s memories.
“Do you remember the theory behind restoring memories?” Idhron said quietly as he worked.
Eridan shrugged. “Just the basics that we were taught as initiates. I don’t remember anything you may have personally taught me.”
Idhron hummed thoughtfully, examining a murky area in his mind. “Restoring memories can be tricky. It is delicate work, and the margin for error is very thin. Sometimes it is not possible at all. Fortunately, I know your mind very well.”
Eridan made a noncommittal noise. There was something comfortable and familiar about this, about this mentoring tone. It felt right. Everything about having this man touching him so intimately felt inexplicably right.
He put his head on Idhron’s wide shoulder and just listened to his voice as Idhron explained to him the theory behind memory restoration.
He felt… He felt better than he had in forever. Just sitting in this man’s lap, listening to him talk.
“I am ready,” Idhron said at last, his presence going still in Eridan’s mind. “I am going to do it now. It will likely feel somewhat disorienting.”
“All right.”
“Brace yourself,” Idhron said.
It was disorienting. One moment, Eridan didn’t remember, and the next, he did.
He did.
It was strange how everything had clicked into place. The jealousy and bitterness of his age-mates now didn’t seem mindlessly cruel but actually made sense. He had been chosen while they weren’t. The bullying, the cruelty—in the end, it was all worth it, because he wasn’t alone. He had a Master. He had the best Master in the Order.
And his Master cared for him, in his own reserved way, no matter what he actually said. Heck, even when Eridan had killed the Grandmaster of the Order, Castien had covered for him. His Master had come for him. He had taken care of everything, and then taken care of him when Eridan had crawled into his bed later that night: wrapping him in his telepathic presence and slowly healing him in his sleep through their bond, healing him so well that the next morning Eridan barely even thought about the attempted assault or Tethru’s death.
His Master had always taken care of him.
Eridan sighed. He did feel the new sense of calm and comfort under his skin, but he remembered the bad parts, too. Castien’s distance, his unwillingness to allow a full telepathic merge between them. Castien’s insistence that their sexual relationship changed nothing. Castien blocking his memories of his birth name and his lack of remorse over it. Castien’s lack of reaction when Eridan had told him he loved him.
The question was, did the bad outweigh the good?
Eridan opened his eyes and met his Master’s eyes.
Chapter Thirty-One: Master
Castien’s gaze was searching, almost wary.
Eridan looked back at him, hoping… He didn’t know for what. To feel any differently? Unfortunately, just as he had feared, having his throwback hormones blocked didn’t change a thing about his feelings.
He still loved this man: desperately, hopelessly, stupidly, no matter what.
“Eridan?” Castien said, peering into him. “Do you remember me?”
Eridan’s hand curled into a fist. “You’re such a selfish asshole,” he said. It came off more affectionate than he had intended. He chuckled, hating himself for his inability to be properly angry. “One would think you’d be happy without me and my distasteful emotions constantly compromising you, but no, apparently not. What is the matter, Master? Did you get attached?”
Castien didn’t look fazed in the slightest. He continued staring at Eridan with the same intense, greedy look. Then he lifted his