[Bren gasped softly in surprise as he was suddenly caught up in those arms. He froze for a moment, caught in the middle of his flight response still ready to bolt. But Essek's arms were stronger than he expected, not to be argued with. The fingers sinking into his hair were soothing and Bren could feel some of that terror settle, and he leans into Essek, eyes falling shut.
Essek would be able to stand against Trent Ikithon? In Bren's mind, Trent was his own personal boogeyman, a phantom force whose reach seemed infinite since his own world had been reduced for years to Trent's grasp.
The words that followed, Bren did not speak the language. But Essek was right, Caleb did. Caleb knew and ached with not being able to respond, to tell him that it had not been his fault back then, that he would stand with his love now against this.
Even if Bren didn't know each word, somehow he still felt like he understood what the drow was saying. Some of the tension eased from him slowly, leaning close and pressing his face up against Essek's neck, just breathing in the scent of him, cool and sweet and comforting.]
You smell like home. Why do you smell like home?
[And like his mate, like the one that every ounce of his being was screaming that he belonged with.]
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Essek would be able to stand against Trent Ikithon? In Bren's mind, Trent was his own personal boogeyman, a phantom force whose reach seemed infinite since his own world had been reduced for years to Trent's grasp.
The words that followed, Bren did not speak the language. But Essek was right, Caleb did. Caleb knew and ached with not being able to respond, to tell him that it had not been his fault back then, that he would stand with his love now against this.
Even if Bren didn't know each word, somehow he still felt like he understood what the drow was saying. Some of the tension eased from him slowly, leaning close and pressing his face up against Essek's neck, just breathing in the scent of him, cool and sweet and comforting.]
You smell like home. Why do you smell like home?
[And like his mate, like the one that every ounce of his being was screaming that he belonged with.]