Deathless by Belinda Burke Page A

feet before Kas had a chance to bring him to the ground and keep him there. The intention was obvious in his eyes, the spark of his gaze. Kas’ power was swollen, eager, and reached out for him with licks of shade that Myrddin’s own shadow ran from.
    “Love…”
    “What did I tell you about that, Kas? You just don’t understand—well, maybe someday.” He grinned and stroked his fingers across the high, sharp arc of Kas’ cheekbone. But I have to go home now.”
    “Home?” A flicker of a frown passed across Kas’ face, and he pulled Myrddin close to him. “You…no. No . Kiss me, you… kiss me .” Hot urgency was in the words, far more meaning in them than they were intended to carry. Too much of a burden—Myrddin didn’t understand.
    “ Yes . Home. I’ve got people to see, things to do—I want to try to find my father, tell him I found you …though I suppose he knows, having sent me.” A smile flitted across his lips, corner to corner, and he grinned. “I’ll come see you again, if I can find you. Promise.”
    There was stillness such as he had never known in Kas’ face, his faltering expression—he shook his head, but said nothing, and Myrddin wondered if it was because Kas had nothing to say, or because he had no words to say what he wanted. Still . He felt…uncomfortable.
    “Kas? I—” He stopped, hesitating, then took the step forward that was necessary to close the distance between them. “Thank you. For helping me.” He lifted himself up on his toes and pressed his lips against Kas’ mouth. One kiss, as requested. “Goodbye.”
    When he stepped back it was with a shift of shape, man to boy to stirred and rustling wings. He stood as a hawk in the fading grass, then took flight over the wood, over the water…into the west.
     
    Kas stood alone, watching. Without being told, he knew that this time if he followed, he wouldn’t be welcomed, wouldn’t be wanted. His lips still tasted like strawberries, despite the flavor of shadow lingering, the night and its deaths still fresh on his tongue, in his memory.
    Now he didn’t know what to do. Kas felt an emptiness that was as new as the feeling of companionship had been. For the first time, he was lonely—or perhaps it was just that now he knew what loneliness was. It had been a thing he’d lived with since the first moment of his existence, unchanging as the pattern of his life had been unchanging…until Myrddin.
    He had known touch , but now he had been touched—touched so that his skin was still tingling with it. He had known love , but now he had been loved, was loving, and the heat of it was as intense as his own power. To touch, love . But the words weren’t enough, as they hadn’t been enough before, and Kas turned his eyes away from the sky and strode back to the fading garden.
    Frustration filled him as he stared down at the ground, the soft impression of Myrddin’s body in the browning green. How, now, was he going to learn the words he needed? If he came back, there were so many things that Kas needed to say that there must be a thousand words he needed— more than a thousand.
    His thoughts rolled over, returned to terrible promise. If he came back? No, Kas would find him if it came to that, hunt him down, seek him out. He would steal the secret of Myrddin’s words from his lips, from the sting of his overflowing soul. But that was the future, not the now. Now , he wanted to do something, had to do something . Not anything, but the right thing.
    He grew suddenly uneasy. To learn the words he needed, yes. But to need them was selfish. To go find them…
    Greedy.
    It was only an image-sensation, not a word, but it was dangerous. Still, he could not deny the truth of what he wanted. Not now. Not this. It had never mattered before, but it did now. He needed to know.
    Love, love. Lovelovelove. He needed to know the more of it, the other ways to say the many meanings he had given to that one syllable. The word echoed in his