“I don’t know, maybe because you seem oddly committed to trying to see whatever the fuck you have been trying to see for the last few months, and it’s making me think the end of the world is coming, and that you are hiding it from me while you try to figure out how to fucking fix it?” Killian chimed sweetly, his voice dripping with enough warning that his hackles rose.
“Nonsense. Everything is fine,” he said with a laugh, barely stopping his wince on hearing how sharp his words and laughter sounded.
“Yeah, that was super convincing,” Killian deadpanned. The Siren’s gaze flicked over him. “Planning to take me out on a date in your sweat-drenched sweats?”
Fuck, right, their date! Cyrus looked down, wincing at how his clothes were plastered to his body. “Let me...go get changed.”
Pushing to his feet, he found his legs slightly shaky, but managed to hide it as he moved closer to Killian and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead, giving one of the man’s hands a squeeze as he lied again. “I promise, everything is fine.”
Killian tugged his hand free, wrinkling his nose while he rubbed at his forehead, holding the hand Cyrus had touchedout away from his outfit. “You really just sweated through everything, didn’t you?”
Cyrus chuckled. Ah, his Baby was displeased with him. “Go relax in the living room. I’ll grab a quick shower and get ready. I’ll be fast, promise.”
“Whatever. I’ll wait, I suppose,” Killian said snidely, before leaving with a huff.
As soon as the door shut behind the Siren, Cyrus sagged. Groaning, he rubbed his face. “Fuck…”
Killian sat down on the couch with a huff after wiping his forehead and washing his hand. If there was one thing he didn’t like, it was the feeling of others’ sweat. Mainly as…well, he didn’t sweat on his own, so why would he want other people’s sweat touching him, even if he did happen to love that person. Killian didn’t mind it much during sex, but...any other time? No.
Crossing his legs and arms, he glared across the room at the swirling golden metal lines of the sculpture on the wall. His eyes, out of habit, followed the one thread he’d found years ago that was whole. It was the only line, the only thread on the wooden base that never broke, even as it twisted and bent in various ways.
Stupid Fates and their threads. Regardless of what Cyrus was claiming, he knewsomething was going on, and that something involved the threads of fate. More than whatever the Fate was trying to see, the man was acting…off.
For instance, while Cyrus was usually affectionate with him, it was mostly in private. They had their boundaries at work, and Killian had never been one for public displays of affection, and neither was Cyrus… Yet, lately…
The Cryptid was bordering on clingy…just overly affectionate, and he seemed almost hesitant to let Killian out of his sight. The question that kept coming into his mind was: what had the Fate seen?
Because the man had to have seen something, this couldn’t have started for no reason. Just…
Killian groaned and rubbed his face. “Whatever, whatever…”
He was going to let it go. Yep, he’d let it go until it likely blew up in Cyrus’ face, or more likely his own. Ah, water’s wrath be damned.
Sighing, he pulled out his phone, and despite not really wanting to read it, he found himself going straight to his inbox, and reading the dumb fuck email his father had sent him that morning—the one he’d ignored until now.
As the hologram tried to pop up, to obnoxiously voice aloud the nonsense on the screen, he canceled it, his eyes scanning the words instead.
To my most precious child, Killian.
He scoffed.‘Precious’—hah! Ah yes, precious enough to be bestowed with the fate of death. Precious because Killian was miraculously the only child he had sired, out of who the hell knows how many, who could give fucking birth.Gee,whatan honor to be so valued for my working womb,he thought sarcastically before reading further.
Too many years have gone by since I last laid eyes on your face, my child. And while it’s true we have had our differences, no one can say I haven’t been more than lenient with your need for freedom. That leniency stops now. It is time for you to relinquish your stubbornness and honorably return home.
As per my previous emails, your engagement to Cydra Zedrissus is set, the date selected, and plans are in place. You will be marrying, and you will be fulfilling the duty that is owed to the family who raised you.
This is my final warning. I have attached plane tickets, and reservations for all the accommodations you could possibly ask for or need on your journey. It is time for you to return to our tides.
Sincerely,
Poseidon’s chosen ruler, your father, King Thaitros Ortilan Nyvanus.
“Lenient, my ass,” he hissed, not hesitating to delete the email.
It was one of many he had deleted over the last few months, all demanding the same three things. One, that he returned to his people; two, that he married the mysterious and no doubt awful bastard they’d picked out for him; and three, that he began his fate of popping out kids until he died.
Killian had blocked multiple email servers, set up many digital blocks, yet somehow, they still fucking managed to get another email to him. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Hisfather had ensured that he’d have a plethora of offsprings all over the dumb fucking universe, who no doubt would help send it.
The audacity of the fucking bastards. The audacity of them still thinking he would do as they asked. That they had any fucking right to demand anything from him, after what he’d seen, after what they’d done! Yet, over two hundred years, and an uncountable number of attempts by them at tearing his free will away, they still wouldn’t stop…
