Guarded Read Online Free PDF

His feet had always been sore and blistered, his mouth always tasted of dust. But his current journey was far worse— both the company and the agony of waiting. Besides, he hated having to sit for so long. His ass hurt and his legs were cramped.
    A low range of mountains marked the border between Wedeyta and Kozar. As the evening fell, the setting sun turned the ridge dark and forbidding. The last time Volos crossed those mountains, he’d been going the other way. His body and mind had been battered, and his soul had felt more sullied than the dirt beneath his boots. But he was alive, and so were the men and women he’d rescued from the Kozari prison, and he’d counted that as a victory. He’d also sworn never to return, but it seemed he was bound to violate that oath.
    The carriage clattered to a stop well after nightfall. Bright lanterns glared in front of another inn, this one much smaller. Even with the war long over, few people crossed the border. But three other travelers were spending the night there: two women who looked to be in their thirties and constantly touched each other, and an older man with a completely bald head. They were all Kozari. They sat at a table together over dinner while Volos sat alone, but even with his attention focused on his meal, he could feel their scrutiny. He had to make an effort not to twitch with discomfort. He hadn’t spent time with any Kozari since the war— and the time he’d spent during the war had not been pleasant.
    He was grateful to discover that he had a private room for the night. It was tiny— just large enough for a lumpy bed and small washstand— but that was fine. Someone had filled the washbasin and left a towel, so after he undressed, he gave himself a quick wash. He doused the lantern, lay down, and pulled up the covers, but he couldn’t fall asleep. Perhaps he was kept awake by the absence of seventy-nine other sleeping companions, or by anxiety about what was to come. In either case, he squirmed unhappily for a long time.
    Finally, he sighed with resignation and began to stroke his cock. It didn’t remain soft for long under his steady hand. He thought of Adiso— of his fine skin and firm little ass, of the lean planes of his hips and the dark, sensitive nubbins of his nipples. He thought of the scent of olive oil and frankincense, and of tight heat drawing him in. But even as Volos’s wrist sped its motions, his thoughts strayed to a larger body, rippling with muscle. Straight hair, dark as a raven’s wing, long enough to cover a broad neck. And a wide mouth that turned easily into a grin. Except that grin was never for Volos.
    Volos came with a strangled sob.
    ****
    Volos hadn’t said a word to his new companions over breakfast or as they climbed into the rickety carriage that would take them over the mountains. He’d squashed himself as small as possible into the corner, uncomfortable already with the way the springs poked through the seat’s ancient padding. He stared out the window while the others stared at him. After several miles, the red-haired woman could apparently contain her curiosity no longer.
    “Where are you from?” she asked.
    Volos startled slightly when he realized she was addressing him but then gave a small shrug. “I’ve lived many places,” he answered in Kozari. It was the first time in years he’d spoken the language out loud, but the words felt comfortable and familiar to his tongue.
    “Are you Kozari? I can’t place your accent.”
    “My family is Kozari,” he replied half-truthfully. “But it’s been a long time since I was there.” Since the war, he didn’t add. Since your Juganin tried to steal my humanity .
    “And why are you returning?”
    He’d forgotten this about his father’s people— they were very direct in their dealings. Rude, according to Wedey customs, but his father had claimed there were benefits to plain speaking. You knew what people were thinking. It was much easier to exchange