This time, when things went silent, the world focused on Antonio’s words as the clouds parted, picking at an off-limit scar he’d be able to handle any other day. That morning, freshly bonded, purposefully set aside and ignored, Bo felt as if all of him paled, the universe lost weight, and gray blossomed to vibrant red in his veins.
Just Antonio and his words, picking at an off-limits scar. And Antonio knew, heknew, what that had done to Bo, same as the rest of the world did. Usually, Bo would’ve been able to handle it. Usually, he hadn’t just had everything he thought he’d known torn apart. (Again.) Usually, he couldn’t feel the absence of someone he needed, skin too tight and the constant ache ofshameall that came through his sense of Everil.
“You don’tknowmy parents,” Bo hissed, eyes narrowed and hackles up. “Don’t you pretend you do. Noshit,the fae see us as playthings. If you’ve ever read a goddamn fairytale in your life, you’d get that gist. But you know what? They’ve not fucking lied to me about it.
“They’ve not told my little brotherI’mthe reason they don’t love him. They haven’t strung him on foryearsbecause they were too fucking indifferent to his existence to see him. The fae didn’t doshitto make the entire fucking world think I’m a liar, a fraud, and a laughingstock by the time I was old enough for a driver’s license.”
Bo took a step forward, eyes bright and furious, jaw fixed, and absolutely fucking done. Hurt, and yeah, fury, and Bo, shaking with it, being told what heknew.
“So,” he bit out, meeting Antonio’s resigned look with his own glare. “Fucking tell me.Tell mehow much like my parents they are. Say it to my fucking face. How much will they tell me they love me while they poison everyone else in the world against me? How long will I need to work to earnanykind of credibility?”
“They will,” Antonio answered. And fuck, some other time, Bo might wonder about the bitterness in his voice. The pain in his eyes. “They’ll tell you they love you, thatyou’re so very special.”
“Fuckyou.” Everything hurt. Seventeen years and everything still fucking hurt. The world shook. Or maybe it was just Bo, trembling.
“Yeah. Fuck me. But maybe wonder why the hell I’m here. Consider that maybe you’re talking to the only person who knows what’s in there. That maybe when I say they’ll fuck you up I–”
Antonio cut himself off, looking past Bo’s shoulder, eyes wide with sudden fear. The tilt of the world turned to a rush of power, a thundering of swift currents and cold wind, followed by a warm hand on his shoulder.
“I believe that’s quite enough.” Everil still spoke softly. But the careful, apologetic man was gone. His voice held the force of a river, the unfettered wildness of a stallion. The wind picked up, making the leaves rustle with displeasure. “You have harmed my guest on my lands. That is an offense that requires redress.”
Everil’s anger blistered, sparked like a lit match in the shell of a home left to the elements. A fucking inferno about to catch.
The tight, twisting ache faded into relief, faint as it was under the shitshow of everything else. Sunburn gone with the heavy weight of Everil’s hand. Bo could breathe again. Deep, sharp lungsful, ragged things, but he could.
Bo’d steal as much as he could, the absence of that wrongness, something to hold on to when Everil remembered he was touching Bo and stopped. He reached up to Everil’s hand, tracing knuckles and impossibly smooth skin. Continued back until his fingers curled loosely over the fae’s wrist.
Antonio stared at Everil, transfixed, fear tight in every line of him. His eyes were fucking huge. More whites than anything. This was Bo’s fault. He lost his fucking temper. That didn’t mean he relished the idea of Antonio on the business end of a murderous, man-eating horse.
“He came out of concern for me.” Words scraped raw, too fucking formal. He needed to not fuck this up. He couldtasteEveril’s fury, cold water gone to ice and grass grown wild. Still that fucking fire, too. “Even though my parents wronged him.”
“He upset you.”
In that moment, Everil looked every inch how Bo imagined a fae would: power and control and able to fuck you up without blinking. Complete with the rustling trees and wind that cut.
In Antonio’s shoes, Bo might’ve pissed himself.
As it was, he squeezed Everil’s wrist and looked at him properly, searching for the right fucking words to say. The fae’s gnashing desire to lash out sang loudly in his ears.
Bo wouldn’t mind it. He got it, did just that before Everil arrived. But he didn’t want it.
“Not my land,” he said, voice low. “Not my house. But he came because he wanted to keep me safe. I just want this over.”
Everil squeezed back, though he kept his stormy gaze on Antonio. “What would you have of him?”
To go away. To never try this shit again. To never have told Bo there was another person he’d fucked up when he was a kid.
“Don’t fucking talk to me about my family again,” is what Bo actually said, turning his attention back to Antonio. “Not how you did. Not like a goddamn weapon.” He needed to use the right fucking words, or Everil was going to rip the dude’s throat out. “Swear it, and I’ll accept that as recompense for you running your mouth to me about something we both know you shouldn’t have. That’s what I want.”
Everil nodded once. He wasn’t satisfied with it. Bo could feel his twisting anger, a dry-ice burn on his tongue. Bared claws and hissing lurked there, under the surface.
“Your name,” Everil commanded Antonio. “Your true name and your oath on it.”
“No fucking way.” Antonio’s voice shook, and he stepped back, down the path, away from Bo.
Everil tightened his grip on Bo’s shoulder before letting go. He covered the distance between Antonio and himself in two long strides, catching his shirt. The material stretched under the force of his grip, Everil dragging Antonio in close.
“Do not try my patience, human.” Soft and fucking deadly, that unwavering voice. “I have none. What I want from you is the weight of your struggle as I drag you under. The sound of you choking as the water fills your lungs. I want my teeth on your throat and your bones for the fish.Hewants your oath. You may choose which of us to satisfy.”
