Disclaimer: I don't own Eragon or anything associated with the Inheritance Cycle.
Claimer: I, SussieKitten, own this plot and the story. Borrow or steal my plot, my original characters (Aksel and Ren) or story and I will report you. I also own my version of Saphira/Thorn's human appearances, and the universe and versions of the creatures I use in this story (hydras and chimeras in particular).
Warnings: Male and female slash. Heterosexuality. Mature sexual content. Swearing or strong language. Supernatural creatures – there will be mainly elves, dragons, vampires and werewolves in this. Mentioned Mpreg (male pregnancy). Mentioned Character Death – made up characters only and it'll just be mentioned. A little blood – this is a vampire fic after all. If any of this disturbs you, click on the "back" button. I won't tolerate any flames.
-Speech.- Murtagh/Thorn talking to each other mentally.
A/N In true SK style, I finished this chapter before the first one. I don't know why that is, but that's how this story let me write it. But hey, at least it's letting me write it now, right? (Knock on wood.)
I'm feeling a little under the weather currently, but I'll get back to answering your lovely reviews as soon as I feel better. :)
Beware. This is self-betaed.
STALKED
Year One: Mischief Afoot
::July::
All in all, Thorn caught up with him rather quickly. Murtagh was in Aroughs, staring across the water at the dreadful islands beyond when a familiar heartbeat came up behind him.
"Well, that didn't take you long," Murtagh said, not turning around.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Thorn asked brusquely.
"It means that I thought for sure you'd at least stay a week with your new bride." Murtagh held up a hand. "Ah, sorry. Mate."
Thorn spluttered. "How did you –"
"I may have been drifting in and out of conscience back at Teller's place, but I'm neither deaf nor blind," Murtagh said bluntly. "Besides, that mating dance of yours has been going on for a while."
Thorn was silent for a blissful few moments. "And you didn't try to dissuade me?"
"What good would it have done?" Murtagh slipped his hands into his pockets and turned his back on the blasted islands. "You're stubborn. I'd have more luck getting a mule to move."
"Funny," Thorn deadpanned. He gave Murtagh a scrutinising look. "I'm not going to like why we're here, am I?"
Murtagh shrugged. "You could always leave."
Thorn rolled his eyes. "I think it's a little late for that."
"Well, I'm not actuallyon the boat yet, so," Murtagh looked at him pointedly.
Thorn frowned. "What boat? Going where?"
Oh, this was going to be fun.
::STALKED::
"No. Absolutely not."
Murtagh hadn't been wrong. Listening to Thorn as he went on one of his infamous harangues could either be mind-numbingly boring or absolutely hilarious. Luckily this time it was the latter.
"I will not stand for this," Thorn said, gripping the railing. "I won't. This is suicide."
Murtagh had to fight to keep the laughter at bay. Thorn hadn't stopped since Murtagh had let him in on his plan. He had kept going all the way down to the city proper, as Murtagh led them to the docks and while they were boarding the ferry. They were now steadily making their way to main island and he was still going.
"I told you, you don't have to come with me."
"Of course I do!" Thorn spluttered. "You're liable to get yourself killed otherwise!"
"Funny. Your pipe has been playing a different tune lately," Murtagh told him. "I mean after all, and do correct me if I'm wrong, but haven't you sworn to kill me on multiple occasions?"
"That's different!" Thorn protested. "That was because you were being a complete and utter homicidal maniac! You were two seconds away from going after the wrong guy and ending up in the ground. This is -"
"The same thing?" Murtagh offered.
"Not even!" Thorn gestured at him angrily. He paused. "Well, semantically speaking it is, because you are definitely going after the wrong guy and you will end up in the ground if this goes wrong, but you know it's not the same."
"Well -"
"No," Thorn interrupted. "Hunters are one thing. The Council is quite another."
They fell silent.
Not many people had cause to travel to the islands clustered to the south-west of Alagaësia. After all, why would they? That was vampire territory. Anyone who didn't have business there didn't come back alive. Even people who were summoned didn't always return.
Murtagh, who had yet to get his official summon, was treading on thin ice. But then he had never danced to anyone's tune but his own. The summons was going to come one day or another. He was just beating them to the punch.
Save the crew, it was just him and Thorn on the boat. They were the only ones getting off and – while the ferry did stop by the island twice a day – they were likely the only ones getting back on it again. If they were lucky.
"You knew this day would come," Murtagh said eventually.
Thorn sighed heavily. "Of course I did. You've always been too reckless for your own good."
"Well, I'm trying this new thing called facing the consequences of my actions." Murtagh looked over at Thorn. "I thought you'd like that."
Thorn looked pained. "You would think. And yet."
Murtagh rolled his eyes. "It's not that I have a death-wish -"
Thorn made a sound of blatant disbelief.
"Fine, it's not that I havemuchof a death-wish, but this is something I have to get ahead of." Murtagh looked over at the steadily approaching island. "I don't know if Durza got word to them before I dealt with him. I need to contain this. I can't afford them coming after me."
There were a million things he wasn't saying and Murtagh had a feeling Thorn knew each and every one of them.
"I still think we should have grabbed everyone and fled across the desert," Thorn said lowly.
"Teller would have scalped me."
Thorn gave him a shocked look.
"What?" Murtagh crossed his arms. "He has that look about him, doesn't he? I bet he's done it before."
Thorn shuddered. "Your mind is such a dark and strange place."
Murtagh smirked. "Well, you would know."
::STALKED::
The ferry dropped them off without ceremony. In fact, they barely waited until Thorn had jumped off before reversing out of the bay.
Murtagh watched it go amusedly. He gave them a jaunty little wave just because he knew it would freak out the crew.
Thorn shook his head. "Come on. Your execution awaits."
"You don't have to sound so enthusiastic about it," Murtagh told him with a wicked grin.
Thorn sighed wearily.
It was still light enough that most of the city was fairly empty. Some vampires were dreadfully predictable that way. They liked to live up to the stereotype. Normally Murtagh would have taken the time to scoff them, but now he was only glad. The less resistance they encountered the better.
Eoam was known to most people as the vampire capital. Anyone untainted knew to stay well clear. Thorn – as well as any werewolf – was mostly safe. Most vampires considered their blood no more above that of an animal. Elves, however, would have been fair play. Murtagh took a minute to imagine bringing Vanir along and almost laughed. For all his irritating traits, he still would have gotten snatched up in a heartbeat.
Some shutters creaked as they walked down the main street. Curtains fluttered. A few faces peeked through cracked doors. Murtagh ignored all of them.
The Council spent most – if not all – of their time in the castle in the middle of the island, high up in the mountains. They could probably see everything from up there. Not to any great detail, true, but enough.
-Have you been here before?-
Murtagh wasn't overly surprised that Thorn didn't want to talk out loud anymore. The danger of being overheard was quite real.
-No,- he answered. –Morzan never took me here and I can't say I'm sorry about it. It seems dreadfully boring, doesn't it?-
-I really don't think this is the time for jokes,- Thorn said.
-You'd worry if I wasn't making sarcastic remarks and you know it.-
Thorn just sighed.
A few people started walking out of their homes by the time they were reaching the incline that would take them up into the mountains. No one approached them, but Murtagh felt distinctly watched. He felt the urge to glare at them and see how they liked it, but kept the urge at bay. It would do him no good. After all, these people were his kind. He knew what to expect from them.
There was a reason he avoided other vampires. He really and truly hated them. He hated how they looked at him, how they spoke to and about him. He especially hated what they seemed to expect from him.
And now he was going to the people that expected the most from him.
-It's ok if you're scared,- Thorn said.
Murtagh wanted to laugh. –Why, because you are?-
-I'm fucking terrified, thank you very much.-
-My, my. You kiss your mate with that mouth?- Murtagh said, knowing full well how amused he sounded.
-This really isn't funny, Murtagh! Do you have any idea what you're going to say?-
-But of course,- he answered. –So sorry to interrupt, gentle-vampires and ladies, but I seem to have slaughtered some more of your brethren. Terribly sorry about that, but it was a matter of life and death. You understand. Ta, now!-
"Murtagh!"
Murtagh turned and looked at him. "Yes?"
Thorn looked conflicted. Anger, of course, soon won out. Thorn was predictable like that.
"This is nothing to make light of and you know it," he hissed.
"I am most likely going to my doom," Murtagh deadpanned. "I'm aware, thanks."
Thorn looked like he was very close to tearing his hair out. Murtagh almost wanted to antagonise him some more just to see if he would.
"Look," he said eventually, "I'll just have to explain it to them. That's all."
"That's all?" Thorn echoed incredulously.
"Without mentioning our new friends or my actual reasons for going after our dearly departed acquaintances, yes, that's all."
Thorn rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm going to be sick."
"There's some bushes over there," Murtagh gestured. "Knock yourself out."
"Do you even know who you're going to?"
Murtagh shrugged before starting to walk again. "The current leader and whoever is still on the council. Beyond that? No."
"We're screwed," Thorn muttered. "So screwed. Why did I agree to this?"
"You can still -"
"If you say 'leave', I will throttle you."
::STALKED::
The sun was beginning to set by the time they reached the castle. Murtagh knew they could have flown the way there and probably have been done with it all by now, and knew Thorn knew it too. But he also knew that they both had needed more time than that. Time to think and prepare.
It wasn't often that Murtagh felt scared, but he did now. His mind had felt...calmer, clearer, since Eragon. Well, since certain events with Eragon. After he'd stopped being in denial and wanting to kill the kid. Before that, not so much.
Things were different now, though. It wasn't like he loved the kid. Far from it. He barely knew him. But he didn't want the council to hunt down Eragon and his family either. Because that was exactly what they'd do if Murtagh let it slip exactly how they were connected.
Murtagh had been interesting before. He'd come from a long and powerful line. A line of unmated vampires siring new and equally unmated vampires. Morzan had been the first break in the cycle, not that anyone besides Murtagh knew. He hadn't done that out of respect for Morzan – on the contrary. He still hated his father as much as he'd done the day he took his life. Murtagh had just never seen the point in letting the vampire community know just exactly Morzan's demise had come about.
He considered for a moment how different life would have been if Morzan had gotten over himself like Murtagh was starting to. Would he have been raised by Morzan and his mate? Would he have even met Eragon then?
But it was pointless to think about such things. Morzan was long dead and his dearmate probably thanked Murtagh every day for it. There was no point in linger over 'what if's – not when Murtagh could very well be walking to his death.
"You ok?"
Murtagh glanced over at Thorn. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because you've been quiet for a while now," Thorn said.
"Hm," Murtagh hummed, "I don't know how to break this to you, Thorn, but sometimes I actually do stop talking."
"Gods forbid," Thorn drawled.
"Careful now. You don't want the Council to hear you actually have Gods." Murtagh smirked.
Thorn rolled his eyes. "Why did I even open my mouth?"
"I ask myself the same question every day," Murtagh told him as he approached the castle gate.
"Why you open your mouth?"
"No, why you do," Murtagh countered.
The gate opened as if by magic as soon as Murtagh got close enough. They swung inwards, creaking eerily all the while. Murtagh rolled his eyes at the spectacle. Vampires were so dramatic.
"Come on," he said. "I do believe we're expected."
"Have I mentioned that I think this is a terrible idea?" Thorn said as they walked over the threshold.
"Not in the last five minutes," Murtagh said. "You were due for another rendition, I'm sure."
"I hate you so much."
"Love you too, snookums."
"So much."
The gate slammed shut behind them. Thorn jumped and turned around sharply.
"Relax," Murtagh said. He slipped his hands into his pockets and looked around calmly. "If we need a quick exit, the best way is always up."
Thorn shuddered. "I really don't like this."
"Then now is the time to make your monologue internal," Murtagh said. "We wouldn't want to offend our hosts now do we?"
Thorn said something that sounded more like dragonspeak than the common tongue. A wise choice on his part. The people they were meeting were fluent in most languages – the old ones included – but not in dragonspeak. It was difficult to master unless you were a dragon yourself.
The doors across the courtyard opened as if by themselves. Three figures glided out of the darkness and stopped just shy of the stairs leading down into the courtyard itself.
Murtagh kept his demeanour calm.
"Murtagh Morzansson," the one in the front said. "We have been expecting you."
Murtagh smiled coolly. "Good. I would have hated to have made this trip in vain."
Thorn made a faint, disbelieving sound, but the vampires didn't even look his way. Good. If they were focused on Murtagh then Thorn was safe.
"Come with us," the same vampire said.
"It would be my pleasure," Murtagh replied. To stake you in the heart,he finished internally.
The three vampires turned, practically in unison, and glided back into the castle.
Thorn shuddered again.
"You can wait for me out here if you'd rather," Murtagh said as he made to follow them.
"And leave you to get yourself killed?" Thorn said as he fell into step with him. "I already told you, I'm not leaving."
"Your loss."
A part of Murtagh hoped it wouldn't lose Thorn his life.
::STALKED::
The eerie trio took them to a large, open room somewhere in the middle of the castle. Or so Murtagh guessed. Vampires seemed to favour long and winding corridors and impossible layouts. He could probably backtrack his way out of there, but a part of him wanted to just fly out of a window just for the hell of it. Fuck pretentious asshole vampires and their stupid castles.
The leader of the council was sitting on a hideous and pretentious as hell throne against the opposite wall. He was flanked by a few other council members, but Murtagh didn't really care about them.
He'd only met Galbatorix King a few times in his life, and each time he swore would be the last. Of course he was never that lucky. Galbatorix preferred to keep his eyes blacked over like he wanted to remind everyone of who and what he was. He looked just as slick and oily as Murtagh knew he was. For fuck's sake, the guy even wore an honest to god ornate cape. If there was anyone that lived by the stereotype, it was Galbatorix.
"Murtagh, my boy," Galbatorix said, voice warm. He spread his arms like he was welcoming Murtagh home.
Murtagh forced himself to cross the room. He couldn't let these dickheads see that he was worried.
"My liege," he said, stopping a suitable distance in front of the throne and taking a bow.
"Oh, none of that," Galbatorix said, but not before Murtagh had completed the bow and straightened again. "We're all family here."
Galbatorix and Morzan had been close once, before Murtagh had come into the world. Murtagh wasn't sure what had happened after that, but he'd only seen Galbatorix a handful of times. And he knew that if Morzan was smart enough to be cautious, then he'd be stupid not to follow in his late father's footsteps.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?"
Murtagh kept his eyes on the gaudy rings Galbatorix apparently still liked to wear. He took even breaths and made sure to keep his heart-rate steady and slow. "I don't know how much you've heard about what happened on Illium -"
Galbatorix, for some strange reason, started to laugh.
Murtagh allowed himself to raise his eyes enough to stare at the intricate brooch that kept the cape wrapped around Galbatorix's frame.
"Think nothing of it, my boy," Galbatorix said, sounding almost fond. "It was doomed to happen one day. I am honestly surprised it took you this long."
Murtagh had to physically hold himself not to look Galbatorix in the eye. "My lord?"
"You have been a torn in Durza's side since he learned of your existence," Galbatorix said, clearly amused. "I knew you two would come to blows eventually. I'm not angry at all, my boy. I'm proud."
Murtagh found himself staring Galbatorix in the eye before he could tell himself to stop.
Galbatorix was smiling. Murtagh could just see his fangs poking through. "You bested five of my strongest vampires all by yourself. Why," Galbatorix gestured with his right hand, "we should be throwing you a feast!"
This...was not going the way Murtagh had thought it would. He could feel Thorn's disquiet and disbelief like it was his own.
"I have been waiting for this day for a long time, Murtagh." Galbatorix rose out of his seat. Every alarm in Murtagh's body went off at once. "You're finally ready."
Shit. Galbatorix thought he'd done all that to get a seat on the council. Shit, fuck, damn.
-Murtagh?-
-I'll fix this.-
-How?-
Fuck if Murtagh knew. "I was just defending myself, my lord," he said as smoothly as he could.
Galbatorix's smile just widened. "Of course."
"And I wouldn't dream of putting anyone out of their seat," he continued.
"Of course not," Galbatorix agreed, still smiling. "Luckily we seem to be in possession of a few vacancies, so there is no need for you to worry about that, my boy."
Murtagh went through every curse word he knew and invented a few more on the spot. It still didn't quite sum up how panicked he felt.
"As honoured as I am," which was not at all, he thought to himself, "I fear I have to decline."
A chill went through the room at his words.
"Decline?" Galbatorix echoed. "Nonsense, my boy. This is where you belong. With us."
Oh boy.
"Ah, but I have always been more of a free spirit," Murtagh said, scrambling for anything to say that wouldn't get his head chopped off in an instant. "You know, like my father was."
He loathed to make the comparison, but if it spared him from having to take drastic measures he'd do it.
"I see," Galbatorix said, though Murtagh seriously doubted that. He brought his hands together. "You still have a few wild oats to sow, hm?"
Murtagh just smiled in answer.
"Of course, the Council wouldn't dream of binding you down before your time." There was a gleam in Galbatorix's eyes that Murtagh instantly decided he didn't like. "After all, you have yet to sire an heir."
Murtagh wanted to laugh hysterically. He only just managed to swallow the urge.
"The Council will allow you time to find an appropriate candidate and sire a child before you return to us to your rightful place," Galbatorix said. "All you have to do is formally accept the position."
Well, apparently nothing short of 'fuck you, fuck your mother, fuck the horse you rode in on and especially fuck everything you stand for' was going to get it across that Murtagh wasn't going to join their sycophantic ranks. Great. He really had been hoping to avoid complete and utter bloodshed.
Fan. Fucking. Tastic.
"I am honoured," he lied through his teeth, "but I cannot accept this position."
"Nonsense," Galbatorix repeated. "Why else would you come here?"
"To explain my actions and beg forgiveness from the Council," Murtagh said as blandly as he could.
Galbatorix laughed. The other council members – his henchmen, really – hadn't moved or shown any signs of actual life or personality so far, not even to back Galbatorix up. Personally, Murtagh thought Galbatorix could at least had picked some henchmen that would laugh with him, but then who was he to judge? He didn't even have henchmen.
But apparently Murtagh's decision not to laugh along with Galbatorix seemed to hammer the truth home. It took Murtagh about a split second to start regretting his decision and life choices in the recent weeks, not to mention years.
"You are serious," Galbatorix said finally, and something about the way he said it made Murtagh very afraid indeed.
-You'd better start getting ready.-
-I hate you so much,- Thorn replied, but he sounded scared too. Murtagh didn't blame him one bit.
"I am afraid so, sir," Murtagh said. "That is all I came here to say."
The room was so silent Murtagh could almost hear Thorn's heart beating rapidly in his chest.
"I see," Galbatorix said finally, and Murtagh didn't need to hear more. His face spoke volumes.
There was only one way out of the situation.
-I think it's time to execute that exit strategy, Thorn.-
-What?-
-Transform!-
To his credit, Thorn didn't need to be told twice. He shifted into his dragon shape and roared at the vampires at the other end of the room, wings unfurling and tail lashing off to the side. One of the vampires was knocked over by the bellow, taking one of their councilmembers with them.
Galbatorix, naturally, wasn't faced at all. There weren't enough curse words in all the languages in the world – dead or use – to fully underline how fucked they were.
Murtagh barely had time to jump onto Thorn's back and hold on before Thorn was in the air and blasting his way through the roof of the building. A part of Murtagh couldn't help but to think good riddance. The castle trend was cliché and needed to die out.
Murtagh didn't lift his head until he was sure it was safe from falling debris and by that time Thorn was fully in the air and flying as fast away from the island as he could. The wind was stinging his cheeks and he was holding on so tightly that it hurt, but there was no way he was changing his position now. He wanted to make it out of this alive.
A roar echoed from behind them. Thorn's alarm felt like an emphasis of Murtagh's. Since when did the Council have a dragon on their retainer?!
-Just fly!-
-We are so dead,- Thorn said as he sped up, wings pumping almost frantically.
-Not yet.- Even though every muscle in his body told him to stop, Murtagh still turned to look over his shoulder.
The dragon was massive. It had to claw an even bigger hole in the roof in order to get out. Its scales glimmered darkly under the setting sun. Its wings were easily the span of both of Thorn's and it would be able to catch up with them in no time at all.
Murtagh felt a burst of some kind of hysterical feeling threatening to overtake him. He forced it down. Not today, Satan, he thought to himself.
-WHAT?!-
Oops.
-That wasn't meant for you,- Murtagh said to Thorn.
-That isn't comforting at all!-
-Just keep going.- Murtagh snuck another glance at the black dragon. –It might be bigger than us, but we have the advantage of wanting to fucking survive.-
-I hate to break it to you,- Thorn said, sounding faintly hysterical himself, -but that is not much of an advantage!-
Murtagh ignored that. –And we can make sharper turns than it can.-
-That's fine and all, but not much help if we can't think of a way to lose them!-
Murtagh felt vaguely chastised. He'd been referring to the dragon as 'it' when he could just as easily have used 'them'. Well, sue him for not being more worried about fleeing for his life than potentially offending the dragon chasing them.
-Just keep flying.- Murtagh looked around, mentally mapping their surroundings. –I'll think of something.-
-Well, it had better be quick, or we're both toast!-
Murtagh appreciated the joke, even though it was a little too on-point for his tastes right then. The last thing he wanted to think about was how very dead they were if he didn't come up with a solution soon.
-Can you make it to the Beor Mountains?-
-That's your plan?!-
Well, that wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement.
-We could hide in the mountains there, find a cave or a crevice,- Murtagh explained. -I don't like the thought of bringing that into Surda and trying to evade it there.- He paused. -Them, whatever.-
-I really don't think we have enough of a head-start to make it there,- Thorn said, still sounding vaguely panicked.
Murtagh swore. He turned back to look at the dragon and had to bite back another swear. -Thorn, I need you to send a fire-ball directly into their face. Right now.-
-We're going to die,- Thorn thought, having at least audibly given into his panic. -Hold on!-
Murtagh barely had time to wonder what the hell Thorn was going to do before the massive chest underneath him puffed up and they were already midway through a barrel roll. He held on as tightly as he could, daring gravity to pull a fast one on him as he felt them go weightless as Thorn reached the top.
He was barely able to see the fireball flying towards its intended target before gravity hit him again, threatening to pull him off Thorn's back.
There was an angry roar behind them. Well, at least they knew that they'd hit their target. But Murtagh didn't really care much about that when Thorn's head was pointed straight at the water and didn't seem inclined to pull up at all.
-Thorn?!-
-Just hold on!-
Thorn skimmed along the surface before diving down, Murtagh would give him that, but the water was still bitching cold and dark as hell.
Murtagh held his breath, once again glad he didn't have to do such a pesky thing as breathe often, and waited. Thorn let them sink for a while before he started to swim in the direction of what Murtagh presumed was the shore.
Murtagh took a moment to look up, but the water was still above them. The darkening sky didn't help in illuminating their opponent either, who had the advantage of darker scales. But if they dove after Thorn, then at least it would make a really big splash. That, at least, wouldn't be hard to miss.
::STALKED::
They finally made it to land somewhere along the Surdan shoreline. Murtagh wasn't sure exactly where. It was the middle of the night, and a moonless night at that. He was lucky he could see as much as he could.
Thorn transformed back as soon as they were both on the shore. He looked drenched and absolutely miserably, but he wasn't alone in that.
"I'm guessing that wasn't according to plan?" Thorn said as they trudged along, heading south and further along the coastline if Murtagh had to guess. That would eventually put them along the edges of the Beor Mountains. It would be as good of a place as any to disappear. But there were still some issues with doing just that.
"I didn't really have a plan, per se," Murtagh found himself admitting.
Thorn spluttered wordlessly and nearly stumbled over his feet.
"And even if there had been a plan, I didn't know they had a dragon."
"And you wonder why I think you have a death-wish?!" Thorn hissed.
There was still a dragon-shaped spectre hanging above them. Maybe not directly above them, but Murtagh doubted they'd given up the chase so quickly. Talking quietly made sense, just in case. It certainly drew less attention than shouting.
"Not really."
Thorn said something under his breath in what sounded suspiciously like dragonspeak. Murtagh didn't need to understand it to know he was cursing up a storm.
"Please tell me you at least have a plan now," Thorn said once he was apparently done cursing.
Murtagh stopped. They'd reached a road that ran along the coastline. It was still too dark to tell whether it was well-travelled or not, but a road was a road. It would eventually lead them somewhere.
"We find a place, lay low for a while." He paused. "I guess reach out to your mate unless I want to die from starvation."
Thorn let out a muffled groan. Murtagh turned to see that he'd buried his head in his hands. Honestly. Thorn could be such a drama-queen.
"You didn't bring any supplies before you left?" Thorn said, sounding very tired.
"Of course I did, but I left it in Aroughs in case something like this were to happen," Murtagh said, crossing his arms. "And even then, there's no way I can stop by Carvahall regularly without raising a few flags. And that's the last thing I should do considering how much I pissed off the council."
Thorn still looked tired, but at least he wasn't voicing any protests. "So then we make our way to Aroughs and take it from there," he said instead.
"It doesn't change the fact that eventually you'll have to make it back without me," Murtagh said as he looked back at the shoreline. If his inner compass was correct, following the road north would take them in the direction they needed to go.
"No," Thorn said firmly. "Absolutely not."
"You heard what I said, Thorn," Murtagh said as he started to walk. "I can't go back, not until the council lose interest in me or are too dead to care. You'll have to be my contact there if you want me to stay fed."
"Vanir can do it," Thorn said as he hurried along to walk beside Murtagh.
Murtagh glanced at him. "And here I thought you'd jump at the chance to be back with your mate."
There was a long pause from Thorn.
"She doesn't need me right now," Thorn said eventually, sounding pained. "You do. So. I'm staying."
"You're such a stubborn ass," Murtagh breathed.
"It takes one to know one," Thorn countered.
Well, Murtagh thought, at least he wasn't wrong about that.
TBC
A/N Hope you enjoyed the chapter and I hope to see you all again soon with a new update. :)
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But that is all for now. Until next time.