The Cat & the Crow

By S. Hart

A dark romance between two unlikely male characters. The recent death of Tarro's wife was not only sudden, it was inconvenient. Being forced to mourn for a woman he never truly enjoyed, he accepts an offer for company that only ends up leading to more trouble. With a reputation for being able to ruin anything, he starts to wonder if he's ruining his new houseguest, or perhaps himself.

This is a fantasy based gay romance novel intended only for adult enjoyment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S. Hart
• Release date: Dec 2, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301770847

S. Hart

I was raised in a community that still hums with folklore and superstition, and has a flair for drama that would put most to shame. Although that may not come across in novels such as these, I have a separate hard drive that holds my other work. I prefer to write stories centered around dark humor, drama and terrible circumstances mixed with folklore crashing into daily life. I'm thin as a rail, listen to music while I write and have been caught on multiple occasions dancing in my chair while I edit and proofread. I've tried many outlets for creativity, and the one that I enjoy the most is my writing, closely followed by my artwork.I do not enjoy long walks on the beach, I am not overly fond of watching the sun rise or set and I have not yet traveled to see anywhere far off and fantastic. I am, however, a damn good shot in a FPS. I drink beer, hate bananas for no good reason and my favorite season is winter because someone needs to love it. I write fast and often, and if my first novel wasn't enough of an indication, I like to please everyone.

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The Cat & the Crow

Written and Published by

S. 'K.' Hart

at Smashwords

Cover by H. C. Fang

Copyright 2012 S. Hart

This Ebook may not be copied, redistributed or altered in any way without the written permission of the author.

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Thank you for respecting our hard work.

This Ebook contains graphic sexual scenes between two men and is not intended or suitable for underage readers.

The Cat & the Crow

Chapter One

I hate Gerstan and it's my opinion that any man who doesn't merely hasn't been there long enough. Women love it, I'm sure. Founded long ago by an unappreciated sixth wife who had fled to the continent to escape her wedding chains, the city-sized country had started as a refuge for women suffering from the same. Since a portion of them had been with child and didn't want their sons removed from their life, arranged marriages were eventually allowed, so long as the boys in question were raised to believe that they only existed to dote on their spouse. Of course, that wouldn't have lasted as long as it had if not for the financial endorsement that came from many a rich widow who wanted in on what they saw as paradise. Or a particularly twisted level of hell, depends on your gender, I suppose.

Gerstan operates like a large masquerade. Everyone puts on their respective masks to hide their true intentions as they exchanges pleasantries with one another. They smile as they accrue information to use as a dagger, comforting someone the day before they ruin them. Gossip could turn the tide against almost anyone. The ones who thrived had to play the field at least as well as everyone else could in addition to tending to what they did for a living. There were of course those who were better at it than others, but being able to devise who they were was nearly impossible, because they had enough intelligence to never show their hand or leave a trail to follow. I can say that, because I was one of them.

I wasn't native to Gerstan, and I had never so much as heard of it before my wife chose me as her victim. I meant husband, my mistake. My choice in the matter had been removed by her mother, and after three years of training me to 'love' her properly, I was the ideal trophy for her to parade around in front of her friends. To the public eye, I was the ever devoted husband to a woman who served as Advisor to the Royals, stunning in appearance, charming when necessary and perfect by their codes of conduct. My job was to make her look like the most worshipped woman in Gerstan.

Sadly, I was great at it.

It made the situation when she inconsiderately died very difficult to handle. Since I was just a pet in her mother's eyes, she took my two children, perhaps afraid that I would ruin them as efficiently as I had ruined everyone Yarau had sent me after over the years. It's one of my many talents, I can break anything. In retrospect I should've waved a hand over her and done my best impression of a voodoo priest dooming her to a bitter end, because she really seemed to think that it was that easy for me to destroy someone. She would've probably believed me and had me killed if I had dared it though, and I've become quite accustomed to being alive.

I was required to make a show of how I mourned for Yarau, which would've been irritating enough. But, I was also on the market again in the eyes of her friends. Since they had no way of knowing what I was really like, they sought to console me with everything from words to illicit promises. I was being pulled in both directions, and I didn't want to go either way. Weep and feign that I was a moment away from a breakdown, or tie another marital noose around my neck and piss off my mother in law in the process.

So, in an empty mansion, surrounded by reminders that my deceased wife believed I was merely a necessary tool to exploit, with her closest friends seeking to comfort an ache that should be there but wasn't, you could say that I grew bored rather quickly. I was 'mourning,' so I couldn't go relatively anywhere. I had been hiding away in my house because I had been ordered to, and I didn't want to try and dodge the advances of Yarau's so-called colleagues. I needed a very convincing excuse to leave my property, a task that I could claim I was done with or still fretting over depending on whatever situation I ran into.

As usual, liquor solved all of my problems. I was running low on wine. I think that the solitude had been wearing away at my personal attendant as well, because Denya let out a sigh of relief when I asked if it would be possible to head to the outdoor marketplace. It was hard not to run to the carriage when it was brought around to the front of my house, because I'd been alone inside of that cage long enough that we could be heading to a funeral and it would be on par with a brothel for me. Out. Finally. And with an excuse that even my mother in law wouldn't be able to argue with. As a long-standing alcoholic she would probably at least allow me the same habit, especially because it had a chance of killing me slowly over time and I think that she would've loved to see that happen.

I grabbed the top of the carriage, slung myself inside of it and sat there with a goofy smile on my face because nobody could see me and I was feeling as if I'd accomplished something. Like a covert mission to avoid the insanity that would creep up on me if I remained there any longer, I was on the verge of laughing over how clever I was. Pathetic, I know, but I'd been alone for awhile at that point and it was getting to me. But it came to an end as we pulled into the marketplace, because it was an open theater and I had a part to play.

I checked to make sure I had an obscene amount of crow feathers visible, and that no dust had lightened the blackness of my overcoat before I stepped out into the rain. I think I might've been responsible for ridding the north end of crows with the coat that I'd requested. It's a Gertsan belief that crows ferry the dead to the underworld, and furthermore, that they hunt the vengeful souls that escape and drag them back to hell. I had even hung three feathers from my neck, so that I would be able to play the part of the terrified and abandoned widower despite any dress code. The fact that it gave off an antisocial witchdoctor feeling was just a bonus, because the sight of it would often convince those who didn't know me to keep it that way. I had enough to deal with, no need for new acquaintances. Some women, though, cannot take a hint even if it were written on a brick and slapped into their face.

Commander Rinant approached me as Denya and I were making our way under the awnings that lined the square. At the time the only people who would go out of their way to speak to me were the ones who served in the military, because most of them knew my horrible wife and all of them knew her detestable mother. Even if we had never been introduced, it was pretty easy to figure out who I was. I was the only man within the city's walls that had short hair, and the color nearly glowed in the dark. Not red or blonde but everything in between, it had been what had caught Yarau's eye when she was told to pick a husband and had spotted me in the rain. Pale complexion with all black garments, crow feathers hanging around my neck and lining my hood to herald my wife's spirit to the underworld. You could say that I stood out in a crowd.

She started our conversation the same way that everyone did, offering me a tan hand that had seen years of both combat and luxury. Tarro Furashi... She wore a hesitant smile as she eyed my attire, perhaps thinking that I had been overdoing things with the sheer amount of feathery protection I had covered myself with. I'm surprised to see you. Ryosho tells me that you hardly leave your house anymore.

I was willing to bet that the woman who had ordered me to remain there would say that. I bowed my head to her and swept a hand over the market, wearing the best distraught expression that I could muster. I merely wanted to see if there were any imports worth my time, Commander Rinant. I took her hand briefly, removing myself as quickly as possible because she was close with Ryosho, and I didn't care to give her anything that the bitch might use against me.

I had temporarily forgotten that she was slow in an endearing sort of way, something I was reminded of when she rubbed at my arm in a reassuring manner and wore a kind smile. Are you doing any better now?

I bit my lips to hide a laugh at that, closing my eyes for a long moment before I looked to the cobblestones under my feet. I slowly shook my head, amused because she was referring to the last time she had seen me, which would've been when I sliced my braids off at the side of my wife's grave and thrown them in with her. I had done it because there's a law in Gerstan that states that men are required to wear their hair long, and I had hoped that cutting it would make me a pariah to the women that were chasing me. To my dismay, that plan had backfired. All it took was one woman stating that she found it romantic and the idea had infected them all like the plague. It changed from how I had disgraced myself to how I had let Yarau take a piece of me to the grave with her in a matter of hours.

I groaned at that memory of that nonsense and gave her the response she was patiently waiting for. No, not much. It was an honest answer at least, I wasn't doing any better. But, that didn't mean that I was upset either, merely the same. I didn't really want to speak with her, so I bit my lip and sank my face in my hand with a low whine, holding the other hand up to pause her when she was about to put an arm on my shoulder. That attempt to get her to back off had failed so I feigned that I had gotten myself under control a few minutes later and took a deep breath as I gave her another distraught glance. Keeping up appearances, one of my stronger talents. I took a deep breath and made my voice twist as I whispered to her, I'll be okay...

She shook her head with a sigh, her eyes showing enough compassion that I wondered again how she could possibly be in the military. Naive and kind, it didn't seem to fit. I am so sorry, Tarro. I truly am.

I nodded, accepting her condolences with a pained expression and a sigh. In truth I didn't give much of a damn; she had probably known my late wife better than I ever had. Since she seemed to want to continue the discussion, I took a deep breath and shot a look at Denya that made him smile as I went back to my shopping. What brings you to the market, Commander?

What she said stopped my hand as I was reaching for a taste of wine offered by a blushing girl. You, actually. I blinked stupidly for a moment, then stared off at a stray bottle as I went over anything I might've done to anger either her or Ryosho. She carried on, I stopped by your house and left a note with one of your servants, but since you're here perhaps you'd be able to spare a moment?

Why? Once I had said it I spun to face her, and the look on my face must've been something because she gave me another comforting smile in an attempt to set my nerves at ease.

I was wondering if you would benefit from some company.

I narrowed my eyes at her, studying the signs on deterioration that came with middle age on her face as I went over what I knew of her. She was married, I was certain of it. I remembered because Yarau had made comments about the way that she had handled her husband, as if it had been sickening to see a woman who allowed her spouse to make decisions on her behalf. I think that the comments had been made with the assumption that I would agree, but I was always smart enough to shut my mouth and avoid relatively every topic that Yarau had ever broached with me. Still, many of the women I mentioned earlier were far older than me; most had passed their prime a decade ago. It made it that much more awkward as I stared at her, because I was twenty five, but she was old enough to be my mother at the very least.

I didn't care to think about the possibility that she was offering to spend time alone with me any longer. Also, I could very easily have misconstrued the implication of what she had said, so I asked for verification. I'm not sure that I understand you, Commander Rinant...

She shrugged, animating her words poorly with her hand as she did. My son is approaching his time to marry. He's a very compassionate boy. I arched an eyebrow, not following. After a long pause she hastily added, The child wouldn't be any work for you whatsoever, I'm sure.

I glanced at Denya, and he looked as confused as I felt. She wasn't giving me nearly anything to work with to understand what the hell she was on about, so I tried again, rephrasing for her. Why would you want to send your son to my house?

She flushed, and a guilty smirk graced her lips as she met my eyes. You're the most eligible man who I could ask. There aren't many that are raised for a political marriage these days, I was hoping that he could learn something from you to help him better himself.

A laughable thought, I could only teach him how to fake his happiness with a woman. At least if I did, he would be fucking great at it. I considered what she had said for a few moments, catching another glance from someone that was even older than she was. It made me wonder if she truly wanted him to learn from me when I had no desire to teach, or if perhaps she was also aware that many of the women that were watching me had daughters reaching their maturity. If that was the case, it was rather brilliant, since they would see him at my side and assume that he would put as much work into pleasing his future wife as I had. Perfect by association. It had potential to start a bidding war over the young man, if I cared to play that game for her.

I almost declined, but as the words were about to leave my lips I realized what I would have to do if I didn't accept her offer. Nothing. I had spent the better part of that week watching the rain fall with a glass of wine in my hand. That's why it was so depleted, actually. I had always thought I wanted to be alone, but after years of being told what to do with my time I'd quite forgotten what I preferred to do with it when it was mine to spend. I nodded to her, taking the taste of wine and letting it sit in my mouth for a long moment. It was good, enough so to make me smile, tricky because I was supposed to be devastated by my wife's death. Luckily she had supplied something I could blame my brief moment of appreciation on.

Very well, Commander. I'll offer my knowledge to the boy, perhaps even see if he takes a liking to some of the young ladies I'm acquainted with.

The smile that broke over her face was excited enough that it made me pale, as if I had just agreed to something far more complicated than we had discussed. I glanced at Denya, and he had an expression that spoke of apprehension as well, which meant that it wasn't just my mind screwing with me.

She didn't so much as notice the way that the color had drained from my already light face, If you'd like, I can bring him by your house in time to join you for your evening meal, so you don't have to eat alone. I'm sure it must be quite dreary by now.

Oh good, she wanted to rush, too. It made me wonder if she maybe had only needed a babysitter. I had no want for her to be near my property, nor did I care to spend more time with her than necessary when doing her a favor, even if we were both still using the guise that she was helping me. I spoke quietly and carefully in an attempt to quell some of her inexplicable excitement, It would be far more convenient for both of us if I were to drop in on your husband and son on my return. I sighed, averting my eyes. He can use one of my recently vacated spare bedrooms.

Her expression wilted as she heard me, That's right, your daughter and the little one... She gave me a look of sympathy and at that I was rather insulted, because part of me had appreciated it. My wife, I could've done without. My two children on the other hand were the only living creatures that tried to make me happy even though they knew that it was a constant and uphill battle against my true personality. And I was missing them more with each day that went by. The fact that she just assumed that, and was correct, made me irate faster than I care to admit.

I took a deep breath and bowed my head to her, then pointed at the stall in the market that was selling the wine that I'd decided I wanted. In an instant Denya had abandoned his previous task of eavesdropping, giving the merchant specific instructions on where and when to deliver it. Once I was sure that he had the right of it I gave him a brief grin of appreciation and turned my attention back to Commander Rinant. Thank you for your kind offer, Commander. I appreciate it more than you know.

With that she bowed her head, her eyes on the crow feathers that lined my hood when I pulled it over my hair in preparation of the rain I was about to walk back into. She wet her lips and started to form a question, but something in my expression convinced her not to. I suddenly wasn't in the mood for more conversation, so I made my way quickly to the carriage that was waiting for me, relaxing inside of it as my eyes followed her. She kept company with some dangerous people, which I knew well enough. A friend of my mother-in-law was not to be trusted, or underestimated. Even so, when she walked off and greeted another of her colleague's spouses, the smile that found her face was genuine. A confusing woman. At least I had something to distract myself with. Teaching her son how to make a woman happy and orchestrating a bidding war. I was hoping that it would keep me busy for awhile. Little did I know that I would ruin him instead.

Chapter Two

I had heard of Arset Rinant, much for the same reason that he had heard of me. He was spoken of, however, as the man who had married to a low class family, the one that never reached his full potential and had been wasted on the weak. Commander Rinant had been successful in her younger days, but her work had quickly tapered off over the last few years and they had needed to let some of their staff go. As a result, their property was in disarray. Well, by my standards anyway. Uneven and unmatched stones led up to a door that had cracks in the red paint that covered it. One of the lamps had a dead bug inside of the glass, which they may not have even noticed yet, but I can be rather picky when the mood strikes me. I had been taught and conditioned by my wife and her despicable mother to always try and feel out who had the upper hand whenever I was confronted with a new acquaintance.

It seemed already that I did.

That had me almost smiling as I approached the door. I was expected. Their doorman pulled the door aside before I had even reached it. Too early in fact, another strike against them because I wasn't in the practice of running to catch a door that I could have easily opened on my own. Commander Rinant should've asked me to teach their staff, because that, I would've eagerly done. I could adhere to a set of rules so specific that it was overwhelming at the best of times, so it was my opinion that they should be able to do their far easier job without error. When I did walk inside, he bowed his head to me, then shifted around under my eyes as if he believed that I was as dangerous as the others who shared my family name. May I take your coat, Sir?

I shook my head slightly and let out a sigh, No need, I won't be staying.

He bowed, Very well, Sir. This way, please.

I arched an eyebrow at the interior. Comfortable and warm; it made me immediately nervous. My house more resembled one of those oversized churches, which only made their house feel like a confining box by comparison. When he led me into their lounge, Arset rose gracefully from his chair and offered a slender hand to me. As I reached for it I didn't even attempt to hide the look of scrutiny in my expression.

He was pretty. Not handsome, I meant what I said. Even though he was far older than I was, his clean shaven face was smooth, no trace of stubble to be found. His skin was perfect, soft and warm to the touch without any break in it's bronze coloring. Dark chestnut hair fell to his thighs, silken and cared for well enough that it made him seem nearly surreal. A slim body trapped in an ornate green silk robe with pants under that which sat low enough that I didn't need to wonder what was holding them up. I let out a grunt of a laugh, I couldn't help it. He might've be a Gerstan native, but he was meticulous and naturally appealing in appearance, and as such, was the best that they had to offer. It made me curious to see his son.

I gave him a tense smile, measuring myself against him for a moment. In appearance, I won. Hands down. Granted, I had chopped most of my hair off and maintained it shorter than they would deem appropriate. I was only still allowed to be seen in public because everyone knew that I had buried it with Yarau. That gave me the upper hand in a way, since people still chatted over how romantic it was. A hoax, really, but I let them talk and build my reputation for me. I had yet to hear of any outrageous acts that Arset had done to prove his love for his mate.

If the hair wasn't enough to lend me

Reviews for The Cat & the Crow

[Alfonso Thorne · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The pacing wasn't rushed, hot scenes and great story line! I was apprehensive at first because the beginning felt like there was a lot of info dumping. But it just turns out that was just the characters inner monologue and was done smoothly through out the story! The pacing was not rushed, so i actually grew to like both male love interest and rooted for their relationship! And the sex scenes were not cliche and HOT! I was happy with the story line and how everything was resolved!