With that, her skirts swirled around her heels as she left. Séverin bit down on the clove and watched her leave. She was right. He was hunting. And so was she. Neither of them could afford to lose sight of their prize, so one night in each other’s arms stayed as one mistake, and the memory of it was shoved into the dark. He waited a moment before turning back to Tristan.
He knew what argument he’d have with his brother. He had prepared for it, and yet it still wrenched something from him to see the shine in Tristan’s eyes.
“Just tell me,” he said wearily.
Tristan looked away from him. “I wish this were enough for you.”
Séverin closed his eyes. It wasn’t aboutenough. Tristan would never understand. He had never felt the pulse of an entirely different future, only to see it ripped from his grasp and smothered in front of him. He didn’t understand that sometimes the only way to take down what had destroyed you was to disguise yourself as part of it.
“It’s not about enough,” said Séverin. “It’s about balancing the scales. Fairness.”
Tristan didn’t look at him. “You promised you would protect us.”
Séverin hadn’t forgotten. The day he said that was the day he realized some memories have a taste. That day, his mouth was full of blood, and so his promise tasted like salt and iron.
“Let’s say this whole venture doesn’t kill us. What if you get whatyou want? If you get back your House, you’ll be a patriarch…” His voice pitched higher. “Sometimes I wished you didn’t even want tobea patriarch. What if you become like—”
“Don’t.” He hadn’t meant for his voice to sound so cold, but it did, and Tristan flinched. “I willneverbe like our fathers.”
Tristan and Séverin had seven fathers. An assembly line of foster fathers and guardians, all of whom had been fringe members of the Order of Babel. All of whom had made Séverin who he was, for better or worse.
“Being part of the Order won’t make me one of them,” said Séverin, his voice icy. “I don’t want to be their equal. I don’t want them to look us in the eye. I want them to look away, to blink harshly, as if they’ve stared at the sun itself. I don’t want them standing across from us. I want them kneeling.”
Tristan said nothing.
“I protect you,” said Séverin softly. “Remember that promise? I said I’d protect you. I said I’d make us a paradise of our own.”
“L’Eden,” said Tristan miserably.
Séverin had named his hotel not just for the Garden of Paradise, but for the promise that had been struck long ago when the two of them were nothing but wary eyes and skinned knees, while the houses and fathers and lessons moved about them as relentless as seasons.
“I protect you,” said Séverin again, this time quieter. “Always.”
Finally, Tristan’s shoulders fell. He leaned against Séverin, the top of his blond head tickling the inside of Séverin’s nose until he sneezed.
“Fine,” grumbled Tristan.
Séverin tried to think of something else to say. Something that would take Tristan’s mind off what the five of them were planning to do next.
“I hear Goliath molted?”
“Don’t pretend like you care about Goliath. I know you tried to set a cat on him last month.”
“To be fair, Goliath is the stuff of nightmares.”
Tristan didn’t laugh.
OVER THE NEXTweek and a half, Laila spied on the Order members who frequented the Palais des Rêves, keeping an ear out for any rumors of theft following the auction. But all was quiet. Even the notorious Sphinx guards who could follow the trail of any House-marked artifact had not been glimpsed outside the city residences of House Kore and House Nyx.
Everything was fine…
It was a hope Séverin was still clinging to when his butler came in with the mail.
“For you.”
Séverin glanced at the envelope. An elaborate letterHwas emblazoned on the front.
Hypnos.
