Llew pressed her palms to the center of the singlet beneath Jonas’s heart and slid them apart, pulling the material taut, revealing the definition between his pectoral and stomach muscles; so deceptively firm, with no hint of weakness or fatigue. The singlet itself pulsed over Jonas’s heart. How much of Llew’s blood still flowed there? Did any linger? Or merely its effects? The latter, according to Llew’s understanding. Still, just minutes earlier, his heart had pumped her blood around his body. There was something deeply connecting about that.

  Nope. Forget Karlani. Llew had no connection to Karlani.

  Llew breathed deeply, pushing out the reality of the lack of poetry in her blood transfers for Jonas. There was nothing mystical or romantic in them. The romance came from this sense of calm and safety Llew would find nowhere else, with no one else.

  Final button.

  Shirt over shoulders.

  One hand lifted from a crutch that thankfully fell against Jonas’s side and not to the ground so he could grip it once the shirt had cleared his hand without spoiling the moment, and repeat on the other side. The shirt joined Llew’s shift. Merrid’s. Llew’s now.

  Now.

  Here. Now.

  No tears for the fallen. They could return later. Right now, she was with Jonas and he was only nearly half undressed. Focus. Here. Now.

  Llew pulled the singlet’s lower hem free of Jonas’s trousers and worked it over his head as fast as they could manage around Jonas’s need of the crutches to maintain his balance.

  Never bulky to begin with, Jonas’s muscles seemed to have lost some condition since they’d escaped Raena’s home in Northhollow. Nevertheless, Llew could gaze upon him all day if the world would let her.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  Jonas’s face displayed a range of expressions – surprise, disbelief, tempered laughter. Then he looked her over. Llew had somehow forgotten she was fully naked already.

  “So are you.”

  She felt just as Jonas had looked a moment ago, but let none of it show. She was in charge. She stepped in close, placed her hands to his top trouser button. “Are you ready?”

  He nodded.

  Llew undid the buttons one by one, well aware of his eagerness behind them. She looked up to meet his ironically apologetic gaze and allowed her own internal laughter to show, then focused back on the task at hand. The leather thong holding the empty trouser leg out of the way also prevented Jonas’s trousers from falling away. Llew tugged at its end, unraveling its bowed knot, and it came free. She gathered it into a loose ball and ensured it landed on her chemise, easily seen against the white.

  Problem. Jonas still had a boot on and there would be no removing it while he stood.

  “Um.” Llew looked about them. All the larger stones were in the water.

  “I think if you sit down I can use you as support.”

  “Okay.” Llew sat and held herself steady.

  Jonas let one and then the other crutch fall, gripped Llew’s shoulder, then eased his other hand to the ground, giving himself three-points of contact as he bent his knee and swiveled to sit.

  “Well, that don’t seem to be gettin’ any easier.”

  “There’s time.”

  Once Jonas was seated, Llew got on her knees and untied and removed his boot and sock. And finally they could figure out how to free him of his trousers. It had been relatively simple with a bed to sit at the edge of. Out here it was trickier, with little for Jonas to leverage himself against.

  A cloud moved over them, dropping the temperature and stealing some of the magic. So be it. They were Jonas and Llew. The broken and the fugitive. What magic they had was gone or inadequate. And they were filthy. Whatever moment they might have hoped to create here wasn’t for them.

  Dropping all pretenses of fun and sexuality, Jonas rocked his hips, allowing Llew to tug his trousers free. Then she gathered the soap and loofah as Jonas shuffled himself to the water. Llew joined him and set about soaping and scrubbing him, and he returned the favor. The sun had not returned, leaving Llew disappointingly cold. She had very much wanted this to be a special moment when they could enjoy each other.

  Jonas settled in the shallows, shuffled himself to ensure a comfortable seat and ran his hands over the stones between his legs, removing a few pointed ones. “Come here,” he beckoned Llew with open arms.

  She went to him, sitting between his thighs after removing a couple more troublesome stones. He enfolded her in his arms and pulled her back against his chest and belly.

  Ahh. Heat.

  Llew relaxed into him, closed her eyes.

  Jonas rested his chin on her shoulder, his whiskers tickling her neck. Ard must have had shaving gear as he had kept his own face hairless. They would need to look for it. Still, Llew resisted shrugging the sensation away. Not all prickly chins were attached to awful men. It soon shifted as Jonas withdrew to kiss the curve where her neck and shoulder met. And again, further along her shoulder. His hands began to explore, one moving to just beneath her breast, the other settling at the junction of hip and thigh. Despite their nakedness and his kisses, the touches remained chaste.

  “Is that okay?” He kissed the apex of her shoulder, and another, moving back toward her neck. Another.

  “Mmhmm.”

  The hand at her ribs shifted to lightly cup a breast. Jonas groaned softly as he kissed beneath her ear. It tickled, but not in a way that made Llew want to withdraw. His other hand teased at her inner thigh, inviting her to open for him. She did so, willingly.

  Jonas took his time, his touches neither tentative nor progressing ahead of Llew’s desires. In fact, she began to wish he would demand more even while she luxuriated in his teasing. A delicious balance.

  He shifted behind her to mirror the attention he’d paid to one shoulder and one side of her neck. He explored the shape and texture of her breasts with an expertise in just how to make Llew want.

  She wanted.

  His fingers below crossed the threshold, making Llew lose her breath and nearly plead with him to just take her, but his light yet deliberate petting felt so good. He knew where to touch her and the exact pressure to delight. She allowed herself a couple of panting gasps before controlling herself, letting him work his own kind of magic.

  They continued like that for some time, Jonas exploring her body while demonstrating his intimate knowledge of it. Each time Llew thought she couldn’t take anymore, he would back off, letting her come back from the edge before guiding her toward it once more. And again. And again.

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  “When do we do the next bit?” Llew asked during a lull when she could string the words together.

  “Whenever you’re ready.” Jonas paused his ministrations to hug her tightly to him as he kissed her cheek, then lips when she turned her head to meet him, preventing her from leaping up and taking him up on his invitation immediately. Whenever she was ready meant she should take her time and be sure she’d had enough of his other efforts before the finale. He returned his hands to teasing while they tasted each other and he soon had Llew holding her breath then panting while he grinned and kissed her tenderly. “Mmm. You’re amazin’.”

  “Me? You’re the— You’re the one doing—” Llew barely stifled a groan. “—that.”

  “Yes. And you’re so much fun to do it to.”

  Llew didn’t respond as she returned her attention to the touch he’d partially withdrawn from her – still petting, but with broader strokes away from her most sensitive places, making her feel like she had to chase his touch. Making her open to him.

  When her breathing returned to normal, his fingertips resumed their earlier work.

  Finally, Llew realized it really was up to her and she couldn’t take anymore. She stood, turned, and lowered herself. Jonas grinned at her, his face alight with humor that slid to a sly sexiness as she gripped him to direct him home. And that look, framed by his several days’ beard growth filled Llew with chills and nausea. Still, she took him inside, and eased down with eyes closed, holding her own weight, trying to push Braph and his smug sneer from her mind. She pressed her face into his shoulder, breathing him in, finding Jonas, not Braph.

  “Sorry,” Jonas said.

  “Don’t be,” Llew kept her eyes closed, focused on his voice, on the feel of him, his scent, on his comforting grip on her biceps.

  “I should’ve—”

  “Shh.” Llew breathed, eyes still shut and pressed into him. “I can’t ask you not to smile. I love your smiles. That they sometimes remind me of … him … That’s not your fault.” She sat back, opened her eyes, met his gaze. “You are not him. I trust you.” She squeezed him inside her, bringing about another smile. Nothing like Braph this time. “I love your smiles.”

  His smile broadened. Better still. And Llew felt like she was on the cusp of some victory. She held his gaze and rocked her hips. There were hints of Braph there, in the shape of Jonas’s eyes, in the color of his skin, in the line his beard followed across his cheeks. Their brotherhood was undeniable.

  And yet, when Jonas looked back at her, his hunger was for a shared desire, to experience her pleasure with her, and not inflict it on her whether she wanted it or not, or take, take, take, the way Braph approached the world. Maybe he wasn’t wrong in his belief he was owed something. Maybe he’d been unfairly injured and insulted by Turhmos, Aris, maybe even Jonas. But whatever Braph was owed, it had never been her father’s blood, her mother’s love, or Llew’s body. And certainly not Llew’s very own sense of self.

  “Say my name,” she whispered.

  A quirk of his eyebrows questioned her briefly, but Jonas complied, holding her gaze sans demand. “I love you, Llew.”

  Llew shook her head. She liked his addition, but … “My name. My full name.” She rocked her hips again. Gasped. “Say my name.”

  “I love you … Llewella.”

  An involuntary shiver ran down Llew’s spine. Only Jonas was there to say it, and yet she heard Braph’s voice mingled with it. Revulsion. Sorrow. A flare of anger.

  “I love you, Llewella.” Jonas’s lips met Llew’s chin.

  Dammit. It was still there. But so was Jonas. She tilted her head, aligning their mouths.

  “I love you, Llewella.” Jonas brushed his lips across hers, inviting her to meet him if she so wished, replenishing her with delight as that remembered echo filled her with disgust. Llew focused on that invitation. And what was he doing down below? He nearly sent her over the edge again without obviously moving. How did he do that? Was it like when she squeezed him? Jonas moaned as she did so. “Careful, Llewella,” he whispered, and she only heard it in his voice.

  Llew pressed her forehead to his, rolled her hips forward.

  Jonas hissed, sucking in a breath.

  “Say it again.”

  “I love you, Llewella.”

  Llew rested her head on his shoulder, wrapped her arms around him.

  “I’m yours, Llewella.” Jonas hugged her to him, leaned his cheek against hers.

  “My Jonas,” Llew whispered against his neck.

  “My Llewella.”

  Like their first time, they barely had to move, and yet Llew’s body was awash with pleasure. They held each other tight, as if by doing so they might merge into one, making Jonas whole and giving Llew the strength to face all the world had to throw at her. All going well, there might be some truth to it.

  They relaxed into each other. Llew rested her head on his shoulder, nuzzled into his neck, content. Llewella. A chill tremored down her spine. She sighed. Not fixed. But maybe there was a chance one day she would be able to reclaim what Braph had taken.

  She traced his tattoo with her fingertips. His power. His embrace. Her safety.

  Like being cupped in her hand.

  “Did you …?” That lump filled her throat again. “Did you get to hold one? The one Aris didn’t kill?”

  Jonas stilled, released a soft sigh. “It was a choice between you or neither of you. No choice at all. I had to let it go.”

  “But you got to hold it?”

  Jonas’s head pressed into hers, but he shaped no words.

  Llew had wanted to be angry at him for getting to do what she never could. But how could she? It hadn’t protected him from what had come after.

  “It felt safe with you. They know your love for them,” she whispered.

  After a time, Llew eased herself from Jonas’s embrace and sunk back into the water. Jonas shuffled toward her, then stopped, cursing, and breathing through gritted teeth as he reached a hand out to grip a part of him no longer there.

  “What hurts this time?” Llew asked.

  “Ankle.” Jonas managed a laughing growl, though any humor soon passed. “I swear it hurts more now than when it was still there. But it’s not constant.”

  Llew sympathized with him, but left him to process the pain as he needed to and allowed herself to enjoy the water, the fresh air, the occasional bird trill, and the play of the leaves in the gentle breeze. As she would’ve back in Cheer, she swept her arms through the water and noted the colors of the sand and stones beneath the water. It was a shame the clouds had rolled in, dulling everything. Still, they had this moment of peace and she would enjoy it as best she could while the man she loved dealt with his pain.

  Her stomach grumbled, and she sighed. Curse this mortal body and its inconvenient needs. They had to wait out Jonas’s pain before they could make the walk back for dinner.

  Eventually, Jonas managed to reach the shallows, still clearly pained. Llew watched him a moment while he turned inward.

  “You’re the strongest and best man I’ve ever known.” After a moment of watching the top of his head before he lifted it to look at her, Llew held his gaze while he processed her use of the present tense. He gave a small nod, and Llew’s chest ached to see his vulnerability – an everlasting chasm between Jonas and Braph. “And I love you.”

  Again, Jonas held her gaze before replying, “Love you, too.”

  His smile was subtle, and Llew didn’t look away. Nor was she repulsed. Not this time. She gave a satisfied smile in return.