Drinks led to Wyte and Declan dragging one another to the dance floor (blessedly sans glass).Better yet,Antoniofollowed for the next song, until the final beats found sluagh and human near one of those little alcoves they didn’t quite duck into, both of them grinning.
“All sorts of filthy trouble,” Declan said, all teeth, higher than he had been in decades.
High from Antonio, the way his bondlookedat him, hands at his cheek and sharp cut hip.Higher still, at the first press of Antonio’s lips to his inweeks, heated as his touch, eager.Declan kissed back, used those teeth to his breathless, ruthless advantage.
So good.Perfect.They could still work so well together.
Growing heat, gone with the rustling laugh from around the corner.Declan and Antonio broke apart just as Tsuri and Nae came into view, arm in arm.Nae, her hair a riot of autumn blaze maple with green butterfly clips, wore low-slung baggy camo pants and a strapless cutoff top the same color as the clips.
“I’m of the opinion that being a dryad means I’m allowed to joke about camouflage,” she was saying to Tsuri, sipping at her brightly colored drink.“Who’s going to be offended?A siren?”
“Perhaps.”Tsuri gestured with the iridescent feather boa they wore over their hot-pink top and smiled at her, looking sohappy.Besotted.Their eyes lit further when they caught sight of Antonio and Declan.“I was hoping you’d be here.Hyacinth’s parties are a bit legendary, and this one sounded right up your alley.”
“We didn’t mean to interrupt,” Nae added, every inch the minx Tsuri accused her of being.“Didn’t see you.”
“You’re just making sure we keep on the elbow-rubbing task,” Declan reassured them, leaning in closer to his bond.“That we’re not knocking any pigeons around by accident.”
“You joke, but I’m always bumping into things,” Nae said on a laugh.“Tsuri’s taken up the duty of preventing me from hip-checking a side table.”
“I call it guerilla decorating,” Tsuri said loyally, draping their arm around Nae’s waist.“Some people need fewer vases.My aunt and uncle in particular.”
At the mention of the Monarch’s the luring ease in the bond was replaced with something sour, corrosive.An unwelcome change, after the last few hours.
“Can’t say I noticed much of the decor when we visited the place,” Antonio said, somehow managing to keep the irritation from his tone.Because this wasfine, Declan knew he would say, if asked.
Fine, from Antonio, meant the exact opposite of the word’s definition.An unfortunate truth, considering it was one of the man’s favorite descriptors of his well-being.
“Lots of white and gold and very clean.”Nae grimaced.“Whenever we visit, I always end up seeing a large sphinx pointedly not bumping into delicate items.”
The more she talked, the worse it became.The simmering fear that came with memory.Antonio’s anger and resentment kindled anew.All of it more familiar to Declan now than their brief, shared joy had been.
Just like that, and it was as if the rest of the party never happened.
Wasthiswhat they had to look forward to?Scant hours of happiness, brushed away by innocent, wayward comments?
When would they touch again?Kissagain?
The future stretched out, an expanse of years like the previous weeks with occasional blips of now.Parties like this where there’d be a spark of something beautiful again, tenuous and shimmering.Where they would remember what it was like to look at each other with heat, only for the next day to be all the harder for it.
Centuries of Antonio gritting his teeth and swallowing glass.Lifetimes of Declan knowing he’d cost Antonio everything.Disappointing him no matter what path they took.He wouldn’t thank Declan for breaking away from the Council, not after what it took to get there.The man felt he had blood on his hands, for all it was Kylan’s own doing.
Declan had only wanted to make things better.For his short, silly life to matter.
“I’m so tired of being alone.”
Broken, burnt out, or dead.
Matches at their feet, no matter how it went.Antonio set aflame, because Declan hadn’t known he would care about the person holding the lighter with him when it started.What scattering the ashes meant.Not until he had something other than his own miserable existence to lose.
“I melted half a carpet in a fit of pique not too long ago.Mother’s made it clear that’s not to be forgotten, me and my dramatics.”Declan sighed, wings tucked in.“Not quite up there with a bit of destructive redecorating at the in-laws, mind.”
Centuries.
Voids, centuries ofthis.Of making conversation when he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t keep going.Muddling through these rare bright points until they happened not at all.And Declan, smiling and talking and keeping himself there, as Antonio hadn’t yet pulled away from him, hadn’t stepped back just far enough so Declan reaching for him would be humiliating.He held on as he hadn’t in too long and Declan–
Declan couldn’tdothis.
He wasn’t equipped to swallow the shards and survive it.He’d known they’d cut his throat.He hadn’t realized they’d get into his blood.Shred him from the inside.
