The Necromancer's Light (Radiance, #1)

by Tavia Lark

In the dying heat of the summer day, a lone figure in gray stands out from the crowd.

Great, Duchess likes him. Now as long as… Arthur peers at Shae’s face, and all his thoughts disintegrate until they’re no more than the dust in the air. The necromancer’s smiling. He’s practically glowing, eyes shining as he stares up at Duchess. There’s something fragile about the expression, and Arthur wonders when the last time he smiled was. Wonders what it would take to get him to smile again. “She’s so nice.” Shae turns to Arthur. “Can I pet her?” Arthur wonders how he’ll survive the direct force of Shae’s smile turned towards him. His blood pools low in his stomach.

Dallying with darkness won’t look good on his record at all. Even if darkness is extremely attractive when he smiles.

He’s just… Happy. Duchess is the first creature he’s met in ten years who hasn’t flinched at the sight of him. She doesn’t know he’s a necromancer, and she doesn’t care.

Maybe learning to ride wouldn’t be so bad? He peers in the stall at the rest of her. No, she’s still gigantic. Petting is fine.

He’s a weird, prickly bastard, but he likes Arthur’s horse, and that counts for more than it should.

He smiles at Duchess, which is extremely dangerous for Arthur’s composure.

It’s not graceful, and Arthur’s very thankful for Duchess’s patience, but after a moment of scrambling, Shae is safely perched in the saddle. He clutches the horn with both hands, leaning too far forward, and his coat twists awkwardly around his left leg. His eyes are very wide, and Arthur can’t even pretend he doesn’t find it adorable.

Sure enough, his plan is working. The magic of horses is definitely the way to melt the necromancer’s icy heart.

“Hello,” Shae says faintly. His stomach churns. He’s never going to be used to this. “Sorry to bother you, I just need to get you back to… you.” He bites his lip, yanks off his left glove, and presses his palm to the dead woman’s forehead. He calls on his necromancy and whispers in his birth tongue, “Come home, friend. It’s time to rest.”

Shae’s nothing like Ronan. He isn’t sweet. But more and more, Arthur wants to know what bitterness tastes like.

Forget Shae’s smile. The way he blushes, delicate pink, is going to haunt Arthur’s dreams for the next fortnight.

There’s one in particular he can’t help thinking would suit the rings Shae already wears. A silver band set with a small, round-cut golden topaz. He’s pretty sure it would fit Shae’s delicate hand.

Arthur’s not an idiot either, and he recognizes the possessiveness surging up in him. He hates the idea of Shae cuddling up to past unknown swords for hire. But he hates the idea of Shae being shoved aside even more.

Shae might not care about cutting himself, but Arthur will make sure he gets patched up properly after.

He thinks about sunlight, fire, summer days. He thinks about the way his heart feels when Shae smiles, and tries to guide that heat through the connection of their skin, into Shae.

If Shae won’t take care of himself, Arthur will do it for him.

He’s mad at himself, twelve years old and grieving, and Arthur’s heart hurts just thinking about that.

Shae hasn’t been punching walls for the past ten years. He’s been too busy punching holes in himself.

“I have no idea what I’m doing here.” Arthur’s almost ashamed of how hard that makes him. He likes the thought of being Shae’s first, with a powerful possessiveness that takes him by surprise. He’s never felt this way about anyone else before.

“What kind of idiot would kiss a necromancer?” “In my defense,” Arthur says, “you’re a very attractive necromancer.”

They fit together like they were made for each other, and Shae could get addicted to this man’s touch.

“I want this to be the start of something.” Arthur leans forward, focused entirely on him. “And I’m not eager to part ways that quickly.”

The start of something. After ten years of endings, Shae likes the sound of that.

“It’s warm,” Shae says quietly. “But it’s more than that. If you could taste sunlight, it would taste like you. I haven’t felt the heat of summer in so long, I’ve forgotten what it felt like. I’ve spent so long just trying to be less cold. Actually being warm was a pathetic fantasy.” “Shae,” Arthur starts, heart pounding, but thin fingers cover his lips. “When I’m near you,” Shae whispers, “I feel alive.”

It’s not her fault she doesn’t know how amazing, selfless, brave, beautiful—well. Not her fault she doesn’t know Shae at all.

He’s already gone, Shae realizes. Even if he stays for a couple days, even if he stays for a month, he can’t compete with Arthur’s precious order.

Doesn’t look back, just focuses on the road as it blurs in front of him. His eyes sting. With every jarring step, the warmth fades from his body, leaving his fingers cold around the reins. There’s no sound behind him. No final call, no pounding hooves of Arthur catching up. Shae tries to tell himself he isn’t disappointed.

Even though he was kind. Even though he saw through Shae’s defenses to the heart he wanted so badly to hide. That connection was enough for Shae to drop his guard. But it wasn’t enough to make Arthur stay.

He wishes desperately, pathetically, for Arthur’s heat, Arthur’s touch. The comfort of Arthur’s mere voice, to get him through this.

When Shae reaches his childhood home, the memories feel like they belong to someone else.

The way Shae snapped at him that morning in the Moon’s Barrel. His smile at Duchess, barely an hour later. Touching his thigh to reposition him in the saddle. The serious look on his face at the Harvest Lord graveyard, insisting on covering a dead woman’s grave. The way he never flinched when cutting open his own arm, but flew to Arthur’s side after the vaidkos ambush.

He remembers the Harvest Lord’s graveyard again, pulling Shae close after, warming him up with his own body. Arthur sticks on that memory, more than anything that came after. The kissing, the sex, the smiles—he loves that, he wants that, but what truly matters is holding Shae. Giving up as much of his own heat, his own life force, as Shae needs.

It’s okay to forgive yourself.”

“I can live with this power, but I don’t want to live without you.”

A moment later, Shae is glad he’s already sitting down, because when Arthur looks at him again, he’s holding a ring. It’s beautiful. Gleaming silver and yellow topaz. Almost as bright as the look in Arthur’s eyes.

“And yeah, I realized pretty quickly that this wasn’t a normal gift. So that’s not why I’m giving it to you now.” He swallows, and his smile drops to a more serious expression. “Shae.” Panicking, Shae covers Arthur’s mouth with both hands. “Before you ask anything of the sort,” he says sternly, “we both need baths, and you need to see a healer. I can’t think about anything in this condition.” Arthur laughs under his hands. Kisses his palm. “Fair enough. Will you take the ring now anyway?” Shae feels himself flushing. “Yes,” he says, the warmth tickling through his veins. “Yes, okay.” He lets Arthur take his left hand, currently bare, and slide the silver band onto his fourth finger. The metal is already warm from Arthur’s touch. It fits perfectly.

Arthur doesn’t need an organization that’s more concerned with looking good than doing good. He doesn’t need an organization that wants to force him to choose between faith and love, when he knows his god wants him to have both. His contract with Vara doesn’t depend on the order after all, and it’s stronger than ever now that he’s making his own choices.

Shae’s hand clenches suddenly. “Wait a second,” he says, wide eyed. “You left the order?” Arthur laughs. “I guess I was too busy to mention that, but yeah.” He takes Shae’s other hand too and spins him around so they’re facing each other, and the heat that cascades between them is warmer than anything Arthur’s ever felt. In front of everyone—paladins, soldiers, mercenaries, Vara only knows who else—he bends down to murmur in Shae’s ear, “I’m all yours now.” “What are you doing?” Shae hisses. “You shameless—” But when Arthur kisses him in the middle of the street, he kisses back just as eagerly.

There’s Arthur Davorin, standing in the doorway with his boots still on, looking at Shae like he’s the most amazing thing in the world. Shae doesn’t feel amazing. He feels raw and shattered, and he has no idea what the rest of his life is going to look like. But he wants to live up to the adoration in Arthur’s eyes.

“Marry me, Shae.” Shae knew what he was going to say already, but hearing the words is still a shock. He feels warm all over, and his throat chokes up. He wants to say something important, something eloquent about how much he wants this and how much he loves this brilliant man, but the only word he can manage is, “Yes.”

Shae’s eyes squeeze shut. He says, “Thank you for coming back.” Arthur’s hand pauses in Shae’s hair. Then resumes. “I always will.” Shae falls asleep to Arthur’s touch, and knows that it’s true.