"Because of what? Your precious Tideborn traditions? The people who threw you away?" Corin's voice rose, his frustration rippling through the water between them. "What could possibly be worth clinging to after exile?"
"The possibility of return," Azelon said before he could stop himself.
Corin went very still. "What?"
The words hung between them, impossible to take back.
"There's always a chance that the Council might revoke my exile," Azelon admitted. "Under certain conditions."
"What conditions?" Corin whispered.
Azelon couldn't meet his eyes. "It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me!" Corin insisted, and a wave of his anger sent a nearby group of crustaceans scattering. "What conditions, Azelon?"
"I would need to remain pure," Azelon said. "Take a Tideborn mate to continue my bloodline. Prove my loyalty to the traditions I was exiled for questioning."
Understanding dawned in Corin's eyes, followed by a hurt so profound that the entire room seemed to vibrate with it.
"And you can't do that if you're with me," he whispered.
"I'm not with anyone," Azelon said stiffly.
"But you want to go back." Corin's voice cracked. "You want to return to the people who exiled you for—for what? What did you do that was so terrible?"
Azelon closed his eyes briefly. "I prevented a ritual execution."
"You saved someone."
Of course Corin wouldn't understand.
"I interfered with Council justice."
"And now you want to crawl back to them." Corin stood abruptly, his emotions churning the water into small waves. "Even though it would mean abandoning?—"
"I haven't abandoned anyone," Azelon cut in. "I've simply maintained appropriate boundaries."
"Appropriate!" Corin's laugh held no humor. "Yes, very appropriate. Holding me every night when the nightmares come, then pretending nothing happened each morning. Saving me from drowning, then watching me drown in a different way."
Azelon rose to his feet. "You're being dramatic."
"I'm being honest!" Corin shouted. "Which is more than I can say for you."
"I never led you to believe there could be anything between us," Azelon said coldly.
"You never had to." Corin's voice dropped low. "I guess I deluded myself."
Before Azelon could respond, Corin turned and fled the room, leaving him alone with the churning pool and the echo of words he couldn't take back.
Azelon sank to his knees beside the water, watching as it gradually stilled. His reflection stared back at him, accusatory. His markings had dimmed to almost nothing, a sign of the emotional control he prided himself on.
Control that seemed increasingly pointless with each passing day.
He remained standing by the door for a while, he couldn't say how long, until the sound of Corin's voice drifted from elsewhere in the store. A laugh, slightly forced. Then Jamie's deeper tones, a question Azelon couldn't make out.
He found himself moving toward the sounds. He couldn't help it.
In the kitchen, he found them standing close together, Jamie's hand resting on Corin's shoulder as he guided him through some kind of cooking process.
