Phoenix Found (Brothers of Fire #5)

Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Even though Oliver wasn’t in the castle, he still had French lessons. He’d much rather be outside helping relay the paving—he’d spent two days helping pull it all up, even though Perrin and the other staff had told him he didn’t need to.

He wanted to.

This was his land and had been his home for centuries, and he was sure that a part of his soul recognized it as such. Being outside—something he hadn’t done much of after the fire incident, probably because they were worried he’d fly away—was soothing.

His French tutor reprimanded him in French. While he didn’t understand the words, there was a tone. He dragged his attention from the window, where he couldn’t see the goings on anyway, and back to the computer screen. “Je suis désolé.”

“Is there somewhere you would rather be, monsieur?”

Yes, outside while the day was sunny and the sky was clear. “There is a lot of work to be done.”

They hadn’t even started on the greenhouse yet. Though apparently, it needed to be gutted and rebuilt. The idea of building something had an appeal that he couldn’t deny. Had he thought that the last time he’d lived there? Or when it had been built? Had he helped build it?

He’d leafed through some of the old books with Perrin, but even he had struggled with the script and the French. Who knew that a language could change so much in three hundred years? The sketches and paintings of the place, and the more intimate ones of what he guessed were past lovers, were much easier to understand. Given the drawings had been in his study, in his personal effects, he must have had an interest in art.

“And that is why you have staff.”

Yes, but it was his home, and he wasn’t going to sit on his ass and shout commands. Not in this life, anyway. Maybe he had in the past. In the life he’d explored, he hadn’t seemed that way. But then he’d only seen a few short moments. He should invite Quentin over after his mother left.

Quentin had been texting and making the whole thing sound terrible and awkward, with both his parents being none too happy because Kaine was older, richer, and far too powerful. It was good they didn’t also know about the fated mates thing.

“Can you assign me some homework? I promise I’ll practice speaking with my staff.”

His tutor, who was also Lucian’s tutor, muttered something about the English. “I will email you. We will have a quiz in two days.”

“Sure. I’ll be ready.” And if he failed, what was anyone going to do?

Nothing.

But at the same time, he needed to try, as he didn’t want his brothers making notes in their books about how he was an ungrateful dick .

The tutor sighed. “Very well. But Lucian put in much more effort.”

“Lucian is marrying Prince Dalmon.” He needed to be fluent to be an appropriate husband. Not only that, but he was Dalmon’s PA and helped with keeping his Coven schedule and prince schedule untangled.

The tutor made a noise of disapproval.

Oliver decided to cut off any more grumblings. “Thank you in advance for the email and homework. I will see you in two days.”

He killed the call and closed his laptop. He’d hear about it later, but that was a future him problem. He leaned back in the chair as the weight of those words sucked the air from his lungs.

How often had he thought that in the past? Had his past self left his future self problems?

What had happened to those problems while he was absent?

Perhaps he did need to look at some of his books.

Or he ignored it for a bit and enjoyed living. If the past had waited for over two centuries, then another couple of months or years weren’t going to make a difference. And by then, he’d have settled in a bit and might actually understand what was going on in the present. He got up and padded out to the mudroom to pull on his boots and a thick wool sweater.

Perrin was stripped down to pants and a T-shirt as he swung the rubber mallet and resettled the pavers. There was dirt smeared on the shirt, his face, and his arms. Oliver was already imagining the taste of his skin and sweat. He bit his lip, wanting to steal a moment alone with him so Perrin could press him up against the wall and grind against him until they came.

Perrin glanced up as if he’d heard the thought, and Oliver’s cheek burned. For a second, he expected there to be actual flames, but he managed to keep his magic inside. He was starting to be able to tell the difference between lust and shifting heat, but it was subtle, and they fed each other.

“You finished early.” Perrin stood and used his forearm to wipe his forehead, which only smeared more dirt on his face.

“Yeah…I wanted to be out here. You’re almost done, and it looks great.” It was a path, not weeds with uneven stones between. And they hadn’t needed him at all. Between Perrin, the groundskeeper, and some of the other staff who’d come from the lodge, the outside of the house looked less like something that had been forgotten about and more like the stately residence that it was.

“Since you’re here.” Perrin beckoned him over to the fountain. He pulled off his gloves and shoved them in his back pocket. Gone was the post-feed bloat. His muscles were pronounced, and he seemed full of life and energy. The Perrin he’d first met had been a little quieter, a little leaner, and a lot hungrier. “The above-ground part of this is a work of art—filthy but nothing a good clean won’t fix. The below ground is another issue.”

“Is it broken?”

“Root invasion. It all needs to be dug out and replaced. Very doable, though a process to protect the fountain. Up to you what you want to do.”

“Can we find out some more about the fountain before making a decision? I don’t want to destroy history.”

“You also don’t need to keep it as a working fountain. The statues can be re-homed in the garden. There are options. You might want something else instead of a fountain.” Perrin smiled. “Just another thing on the list.”

“You re-laid the path already.”

“While I was making a mess, I checked out the pipes and laid conduit, so I don’t need to dig up the path again.”

“How do you think of all that stuff?” It seemed every fix connected to three others, and there was always something to inspect or approve. And he suspected Perrin was making most of the decisions and only asking him for the big ones.

Perrin shrugged. “I need some water. Walk with me.”

“Okay.” There he was, all clean and neat and rugged up against the cool air, and Perrin was all sweat and dirt, and Oliver wanted to rub up against him.

They walked around the corner of the house to the well, but instead of heading for the water, Perrin grabbed the front of the jumper and kissed him. “I smelled your lust.”

Oliver squeaked even as he shoved his hands under Perrin’s T-shirt. “You look so delicious. I want to lick you.” He proved the point by licking beneath Perrin’s jaw.

He might have developed a taste for sweaty men. Or at least his sweaty ghoul.

Perrin groaned but didn’t pull away. “I’m filthy, and I am not fucking you outside.”

“Workshop,” Oliver whispered.

“You skipped out of French to get laid?”

“No, I wanted to help, but you’re making progress without me.” He tried not to sound put out and was fairly sure he failed from the look Perrin gave him.

“You helped lift all the pavers.”

“I want to build, not destroy.”

Perrin studied him for a moment. “What do you want to create?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come to the greenhouse.” Perrin took his hand and led him through the garden.

Oliver couldn’t help the smile that formed, even though it wasn’t the first time they’d walked through the garden hand in hand. The greenhouse, even though it was a ruin, was a magical place of trees and vines taking over the metal frame .

“To put this back as it was will mean removing these big trees and cutting the frame…basically leveling the area.”

“That would be sad. It’s kind of a living sculpture.”

“It is. But it needs cleaned up. There’s broken glass, weeds, and litter. If you want a greenhouse, we need to find a new location.”

“I don’t know if I want a new one, but I think we should save this…as in clean it up.”

“Do you want to be in charge of it?”

“Are you assigning me a job so I feel valued?” He wasn’t sure if he should be offended or grateful.

“This is your estate. I can make decisions about repairs and making it safe, but things like this…this is a you project.”

“How do I clean it up?”

Perrin smiled. “That depends on what you want to do with it. Is it a garden, somewhere to sit, or do you want to build out of it and create something?”

Oliver stared at the nature-reclaimed greenhouse. “I think I’d like to sit out here. Hang a seat from the tree. Like an escape into nature.” Even though this whole estate was tucked away in a valley away from everyone. Everyone except all the staff and security. This was a place he could be alone.

“A folly?”

“I have no idea what that is.”

“A building that exists to delight. They were once very popular on French and English estates. Often taking on the appearance of Roman temples or mills and such. You could do some reading, get some inspiration…”

He was already feeling inspired. “So like a treehouse, but not actually a treehouse, with an upstairs that looks over the fields…where there will be goats.” Because Perrin needed to eat. “Like an art studio.”

He could learn how to paint again. He didn’t know what to do with his life, but he couldn’t sit around and wait for an answer to arrive.

“I wouldn’t trust the old greenhouse frame to support anything. But I can engage an architect to discuss things with you.”

“I don’t know what I want yet.”

“There’s no rush. When you have more of an idea, an architect will draw up options and explain them to you. I can’t do that. But I can tell you this inside area needs to be dug out back to the stone floor, and glass and debris need to be removed from the dirt.”

“It seems like a waste of money. It’s even called a folly.”

“You have the money to do what you want and enjoy your life. That’s not something everyone has.”

“Which is my point. If I gave you enough that you never needed to work again, what would you do?”

“Travel.”

“Why?”

“To see more than the castle I have lived my entire life in. Not that I’m not grateful. Monte de Leucoy is a haven for people like me.”

“Where would you go?”

“I don’t know. Maybe meet the woman I’m not going to marry.” He put his hands in his pockets and stared up at the sky. “I get it. You’re suddenly free with every possibility on the table, and it’s too much to choose from.”

Oliver leaned against him, wanting the cool of Perrin’s skin against his own. “I can be anyone and do anything. And all I want is to sit and breathe.”

Perrin put one arm around him. “That’s okay too.”

“But I want to be useful. I spent too long sitting and not living.” Not knowing where to start was paralyzing .

“May I suggest keeping up with your French and magic lessons?”

Oliver laughed.

“I was being serious.”

“Oh.” Oliver dipped his chin and stared at the dirt.

Perrin whispered something in his ear in French, then gave his ass a squeeze. He may have been describing the tree or the dangers of broken glass in the soil, but it sounded as sexy as hell. He nipped Oliver’s ear. “Do you want to know what I said?”

Oliver placed his hand on Perrin’s chest. “I don’t care what you said, but I want you to press me against the tree and fuck me.”

That sounded crude compared to what Perrin had whispered, but he didn’t care. They had danced around doing more than grinding and sucking and using hands. He wanted to try more. “Please?”

“I do not have any lube with me, and I’m not fucking you against a tree the first time.”

Olive sighed and glanced away. It had been worth a shot.

Perrin caught his chin and lifted it. “Because I care about you. Je t’aime mon petit oiseau.”

“You called me small.” Possibly, but it had sounded like a compliment, and the way Perrin was looking at him was making him far too warm.

“My little bird.”

Oliver grinned. “I’m yours?”

“You’re my boyfriend, are you not?”

“Yes.” But he didn’t have anything cute to call Perrin.

Perrin’s expression changed to concern. “You have fire in your eyes.”

“Ugh.” His magic was spoiling the moment.

Perrin’s lips brushed his, his tongue swept over Oliver’s lip, and he opened his mouth, hungry for a taste. His fingers curled, gripping the T-shirt fabric, and he rocked his hips, loving the way Perrin felt against him, even as it inflamed the need in his blood and made his dick throb. Instead of trying to push away the heat, he let it shift into lust.

“Has it gone?”

“Well, it’s no longer in your eyes.” His hand traced the length of Oliver’s erection.

“I can’t help it. You touch me, and I need you.” No one had ever made him feel like this, and he loved it. “I love you.”

Perrin stared at him.

Was that too much?

He held his breath, wondering if he’d ruined everything.

Perrin swept him up and carried him over to the tree, pressing his back to the cool bark. His heart was beating too fast, and Perrin’s eyes had lost their color. “I would like nothing more than to fuck you here.”

Then do it. He was a shifter. He’d be fine, wouldn’t he?

“But I’d much rather it be memorable for the right reasons, not the wrong ones, because I love you, little bird.” His lips trailed down Oliver’s throat as he nipped and licked, his hands working open the fly of Oliver’s pants. “Now I’m going to eat you unless you have objections.”

“No,” he whispered as he tipped his head back.

Perrin kneeled in the dirt, his lips ghosting over the thin fabric of Oliver’s underwear. Oliver tipped his head back, not caring that the moment Perrin’s tongue swept over his skin, he was gone.