They lift me toward what I want instead of plucking it down and handing it over. They help me find solid ground in a world made of quicksand. I lead, they follow. I need, they give. They shift who’s at the helm based on strengths, with no jealousy or competition marring the smooth transition of trust and control. They’re family, a true team in every sense, and now I am too.
I’ve hated the thought ofbelongingto them. Spending too much time under the thumb of undeserving masters and cruel fae tainted the mere thought of feeling owned by anyone ever again. But I suddenly understand what it means to betheirs, and I realize that I couldn’t be any safer or in more perfect hands than the loving ones they offer me.
Warmth gathers in my chest, but I place everything I’m feeling in a box and set it aside for later. I want to be somewhere safe where there are no interruptions when I wrap myself and them in these profound revelations and get lost in one another.
I give Curio a nod, and he stands up and walks over to remove the bolt scorpions. Riall is suddenly in front of me, blocking my view. He reaches for my hand, exposing the burn on my arm that’s throbbing and angry. Brow furrowed with concern, he bites into his wrist and then drips his blood all over the burn before it immediately starts looking better. Riall offers me his wrist and I take it, bringing his two puncture marks to my mouth and licking his wrist clean.
I suddenly find myself wishing I was licking other things, but I kick that thought in the throat and focus on what’s important. I hate that it feels like I’m fishing for answers with untested lures. I’m not the most patient person, and this dance around for information is tedious and slow. I want what’s in Verus’s head, and I want it now.
Riall’s bite stops bleeding. He swipes his thumb across my lip with a heated look and then pops that thumb into his mouth before returning to his seat next to Curio. My arm is completely healed; there’s not even a mark. I roll down my sleeve, not wanting to give away any other secrets for free.
Curio sits down, the bolt scorpions now back in the incubator, and I level Verus with alet’s cut the shitlook. His eyes flick from me to Riall and back again as though he knows some kind of exchange just occurred but he can’t pinpoint what.
“I’m done measuring cocks. You think yours is a prized piece, but we both know mine is bigger and better. Either prove that what you say is true or fucking die and stop wasting my time.”
Riall snorts out a laugh before collecting himself. I can just make out Tarek’s amused grin out of the corner of my eye, and Curio’s chest is vibrating with silent laughter while his face is entirely blank. I have no idea how he’s doing that, I’ll have to ask him to teach me that trick later.
Verus’s silver eyes narrow. It’s like he’s trying to slice me open and see all the secrets lining my insides. He’s fighting not to answer, but whatever Tarek has been dosing him with is once again winning, and he sags in his chair, defeated.
“We weren’t trying to kill you,” he assures, looking from me to the other Scorpions and then back. “We were supposed to separate one of you from the others, capture them and then use them as bait to bring the other two heads of the Order to the negotiating table.”
“When did things change?” I press, trying to keep my question vague but confident.
“Everything is changing,” he admits easily. “We’re getting close, and it means we need to be more aggressive. An alliance would have been smart; I just don’t know why the Crescents didn’t tell us about you.”
The statement is open-ended, and he watches me like he’s waiting for me to explain, so I mimic his resignation and huff out a deep sigh and sag back in my chair.
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully as I let my eyes focus on the stacked stones that make up the wall behind him while trying to look pensive and a little lost.
I try not to hold my breath while I wait to see how he’ll react to my honest but contextuallyfull-of-pissconfession.
“Erif was understandably upset whenhekilled his brother.” Verus juts his chin in Riall’s direction.
I scoff at his misplaced anger. “Did you think he was going to go peacefully?”
“We had hawx claw,” he defends.
My stomach lurches at the name, and I’m suddenly yanked back to Dorsin’s quarters. He was asking me questions, but I couldn’t remember anything.
“Did you dose her with something?”Dorsin had asked.
“Only the hawx claw we discussed so she’d be out for the grab and transport.”
The orc’s jagged voice and his unforgettable stench assaults me like he’s in the room with us right now. I look around, making sure that he’s not, which is addled because the fucker is dead. I untether myself from the flash of memory and concentrate on Verus’s mouth and what he’s saying.
“Erif wasn’t going to kill him, hurt him maybe, but he knew The Cause needed allies. He wouldn’t have risked that even for something as personal as avenging his brother.”
Erif must have been the leader.
I should probably confirm that, but instead, I’m wondering if hawx claw is commonly used in kidnappings or if it’s unique to Verus’s people. For some time now, I’ve thought that there was a family or someone left behind who cared about me. The ransom that Dorsin was hoping to collect always supported that theory, but what if I was betrayed? What if I was sold out by my own people? Where does that leave me now?
Anger and doubt start to simmer in my stomach. It feels like acid is trying to climb my insides. I force myself to prioritize the conversation at hand and not the possibility that there may not be any loving, open arms at the end of this trail. I may only find whoever started me on this fucked-up path in the first place.
Is that enough for me?
To know?
To risk the scars something like that will leave behind when I already have more than enough disfiguring my soul?
