I trailed off, because how did you tell someone that their voice was better than any song, that hearing them say your name felt like coming home to a place you'd never been?
Evan was watching me, like he was waiting for me to laugh or make a joke or somehow diminish the weight of what had just happened.
Instead, I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, and said as gently as I could manage: “You should do that more often.”
“It's hard,” he said, the words coming out rough and halting. “But... not with you.”
The admission hit me somewhere between the sternum and the solar plexus, in that space where hope lived alongside all the reasons it was dangerous to feel it.
“Then I'll be here,” I said, and meant it with every fiber of my being. “However long it takes.”
The promise hung between us, heavy and warm, and for a moment I thought Evan might say something else. Might trust me with more words, more pieces of himself.
Instead, footsteps on the stairs broke the spell, and a voice I didn't recognize called out: “Evan? You up there?”
Evan's entire body went rigid, his face cycling through expressions I couldn't read before settling on something that looked suspiciously like dread.
“Alaric,” he muttered, and the name sounded like a curse.
The door swung open without a knock, and a guy about our age stepped into the room like he owned it.
“Interrupting something, am I?” Alaric said, his gaze sliding from Evan to me with the lazy assessment of someone sizing up prey.
“Get out,” Evan said, his voice flat and dangerous in a way I'd never heard before.
“Relax, cousin.” The word dripped with sarcasm. “I just came by to see if you wanted to come to the lake with the others. But I see you're...” His eyes lingered on me with something that might have been amusement. “Playing therapist.”
The casual cruelty in his tone made my skin crawl.
“I said get out.”
“Come on, Evan. Don't tell me you've found someone who actually believes the strong, silent act is charming?” Alaric's smile was all teeth and no warmth as he looked at me. “How long do you think that'll last once he realizes what you really are? What this family really is?”
Warning bells started ringing in my head, but I kept my expression neutral. “I think I can make my own judgments about people.”
“Oh, can you?” Alaric settled against the doorframe like he was planning to stay a while. “That's adorable. Tell me, what exactly do you think you're getting yourself into here? Playing savior to the broken bird?”
“Alaric.” Evan's voice cracked like a whip, and I saw something flicker in the other boy's eyes that might have been surprise. “Leave. Now.”
For a moment, the two of them stared each other down, some kind of silent communication passing between them that I wasn't privy to. Then Alaric shrugged, pushing off from the doorframe with lazy grace.
“Just looking out for you, cousin,” he said, but his eyes were on me. “Wouldn't want you to get too attached to something temporary.”
He disappeared down the hallway, leaving behind the scent of expensive cologne.
“Friend of yours?” I asked, trying to inject some lightness into the suddenly heavy atmosphere.
“Cousin,” Evan said shortly.
Evan looked like he wanted to say something else, but footsteps on the stairs interrupted him again. This time, they were heavier, more measured, and I knew without looking that Daniel was coming to check on us.
“Boys,” he said from the doorway, his gaze taking in the tension that still lingered in the air. “Everything all right?”
“Fine,” Evan said, but his father's eyes narrowed slightly, like he could smell the lie.
“Why don't we take a walk?” Daniel suggested, though it didn't really sound like a suggestion. “The evening air might do us all some good.”
Outside,the sun was starting to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink that made the forest look like it was on fire. Daniel led us down the gravel drive, past the lantern posts that were beginning to glow in the gathering dusk.
