This chapter is relatively short, but hopefully it'll give you a sense of where the story is headed. Thanks for all the comments and please continue to REVIEW!
The crisp morning sun was an unwanted surprise as Irial gazed out of the overlarge window. It was a sudden divergence from the unholy rain that had been falling of late, and he wasn't completely sure he disliked it, despite how bright it was.
Yet, the weather wasn't truly what had been haunting him for these past hours. In all honesty, he could care less about the morning sun or the change in cool rain or even the newly blossoming flowers that were no doubt the result of Summer's reign.
There was one thing on his mind as he retreated back to the solitude of his bed, and his name was Niall. Irial inhaled. Niall. So beautiful and dangerous, even if he didn't know it. Irial had not expected to grow so fond of the boy. Had not expected the desire he felt to tend to his every beck and call. But alas, Niall had managed to undo him somehow with his beauty and exquisiteness and raw innocence that could not be mimicked.
Irial remembered the look in the boy's eyes as he gave in to Irial completely, his hard body pliant and ripe beneath Irial's own, ready to be taken. The look in those brown eyes had truly been what undid him; the utter trust and lack of restraint they had shown spoke volumes.
And as Irial lay on his bed, he wanted nothing more than to taste those soft, pink lips, feel them on his throat, venturing lower…farther down his hips, wrapped around his… Irial paused. It was too soon for that. Way too soon. There would be a time when the boy was completely his, waiting to taste him- but that would take more time than Irial truthfully wanted to wait.
Especially since he had no guarantee that Niall would actually want to see him again, despite the note he'd left hours prior. A sudden panic rushed Irial at once. What if he did not enjoy the night s much as I'd thought? What if he doesn't choose to find me? Then what will I do? Irial was at a loss. He'd written the letter and left rashly with the notion that the Gancanagh would be seeking him out again, wishing to see the Dark King, But what if he was wrong?
Irial shook his head, completely deferring the thought. Niall would come for him some time during the day. And if he did not, Irial would seek him out instead, just as the note had implied.
Then, pulling himself into bed, Irial rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. He was already sleep deprived and it wasn't even noon yet. He blamed his own lack of sleep on the events that transpired while he was still with Niall in the pantry, sleeping in his arms after their love-making. While resting with his lover beside him, Irial had heard an abrupt knocking at the pantry door, just loud enough to wake him. He'd known without a doubt that Gabriel was on the opposite side with urgent news. The Hound would never interrupt his bedtime activities unless there was something important to be said or done. So as much as it had pained him to do so, Irial untangled himself from the sleeping faery and dressed with haste.
Then Gabriel had told him rumors of a possible threat to the Court; a group of violent refugees that had rebelled against him and had broken away from Court affairs. Gabriel had claimed that they didn't fear authority and that they'd been randomly- and brutally- attacking fey in the wood for some time now. When Irial asked why he hadn't been told sooner, Gabe had replied that the dissenters had been very quiet about their activities up until recently. They always killed their victims and they never left behind any witnesses.
They were clever in their schemes, no doubt, but Irial refused to accept mutiny. Not from any of his Court.
More tired than ever, Irial chose to go to sleep just then, since he felt like the weight of his own mind was pulling him down. Too many anxious thoughts were fluttering away at him, like caged wing-things. His Gancanagh would come find him, and the mutinous Dark fey would be put down for their insurrection. And all would be fine, Irial reasoned sleepily.
He prayed to the gods he was right.