frown. He could get a pill quickly. He could. He should. Then come right back. “Just… hold on.” He pushed himself off Tauran and reached inside his jacket, fingers fumbling on the vial in his rush, as if Tauran wouldn’t notice the intermission if only he was quick enough. “Shit,” he hissed when the pill bounced off his palm and onto the grass. He leaned forward, eyes narrowed to find the tiny white speck between the blades of grass.
Tauran sat up. “Are you okay?” he asked again, gaze lingering on Kalai’s shaking hands.
Kalai nodded, letting out a sigh of relief when he found the pill. He swallowed it, a single pill instead of two because Tauran was right there, watching his hands. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s fine.” He stuffed the vial back inside his pocket, then shifted toward Tauran. “Where were we?” His smile was a little breathless, but he hoped it was too dark for Tauran to see.
But the spark in Tauran’s eyes was gone, replaced by concern. When he stroked Kalai’s arm, the gesture felt more caring than sensual. The moment was lost.
Regret curled hot and tight in Kalai’s stomach, and he looked down, face burning. He wanted to kick himself. “I ruined it.”
“No! No, you didn’t.” Tauran’s hand moved from Kalai’s arm to his face, cupping his cheek, gently coaxing his head back up.
Kalai couldn’t meet his eyes. They hadn’t been together, even once. Fleeing south had been too hectic, the Terror Marshes too wet and full of bugs to be comfortable, and the few times they’d had the chance, they’d either been too tired or rudely interrupted by silverhorn. Now, Kalai’s addiction reared its ugly head to sour his mood once more. The budding headache faded, leaving everything frustratingly clear. “Stopping sex with the most gorgeous man I know for a drug. I can’t believe I let a stupid little pill win out over this!” He gestured at Tauran and the space between them.
“It’s not your fault.” Tauran’s voice was kind and understanding, and a part of Kalai almost wished it would match his own frustration so he wouldn’t feel so guilty. “Sex with a headache isn’t all that fun, anyway.” He tucked a too-long lock of stray hair behind Kalai’s ear. “I want to help you.”
“I know. But I got it under control.” Suddenly, Kalai felt sixteen again, begging Aunt Iako to let him fly with Arrow. “I can handle this.” He’d said those exact words to her, and she’d looked at him with the exact concern he saw in Tauran’s eyes, now. But Tauran wasn’t Iako. Tauran trusted him to be strong enough. Capable enough. Kalai couldn’t decide if that was better or worse.
Tauran was quiet for a long moment. Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Kalai’s lips. “Take your jacket off. Lay with me.” He moved from Kalai and pulled aside the covers of their makeshift nest, removed his shirt and opened his arms.
Kalai crawled into his embrace. Tauran pulled the covers up to his chin and wrapped his arms around him, dispelling the goosebumps on Kalai’s bare arms. When Tauran kissed his forehead, Kalai closed his eyes. Nothing could whisk away a bad mood like a good night’s sleep wrapped in Tauran’s powerful arms. He was starting to understand why this exact thing had saved Leyra when she was still an egg.
* * *
As Kalai predicted, he woke with a splitting headache. He tried not to let it show, because Tauran was in a good mood, despite Kalai’s no doubt frustrating denial of his release the night before. Tauran whistled a tune while preparing their breakfast, and Kalai tried hard to match his mood since it had been so long since he’d seen Tauran truly at ease, but the truth of the matter was that Kalai was in trouble.
He had counted the remaining pills before Tauran woke. Based on his predictions, he would run out in exactly twenty days if he kept up this pace. They’d be in Kel Visal by that time, when all their attention should be on trying to communicate with the Executioner so they could keep the wild dragons safe. The worst time for Kalai to be dealing with withdrawals because he had been too damn stupid to not decrease the doses earlier.
“You must be excited to see your aunt again,” Tauran said, pouring Kalai a cup of the chamomile tea he’d made from the plants Kalai had plucked the previous day.
The