When Weston offered to fetch the guitar, Milo set his books aside and waited with bated breath. It took a minute; then Weston walked in with a gorgeous acoustic guitar, the wooden body leading to a long fretboard. His fingers itched to get a hold of it, but when Weston handed it to him, Milo hesitated.
What if he dropped it? Broke it? Damaged it in some way?
This was a legacy of Teowulf’s life, and Keon didn’t have much left of his brother. Too much time had passed. What if he ruined the last positive memory of Teowulf that Keon held dear? The pressure was immense, but there was no going back now.
Weston was already rifling through a box he’d brought with him, muttering about music sheets and a pick to protect his fingers, and musing over whether they had gloves Milo could use to ease the pressure on his fingers. Which, considering his hands and feet were the worst affected by his nerve condition, wasn’t a terrible idea.
Another smile formed, as he realised this was possible. Weston would help him figure out what was best, even if it took hours of trial and error. He seemed determined to help Milo reclaim this piece of his past. And a part of him, deep down where he’d forgotten it existed, was desperate to let him.
*
IT TOOK LITERALhours, but Milo was stunned at how easily it came back. No, it wasn’t comfortable. Yes, it hurt and his fingers and wrist would ache like hell tomorrow, but the flare of hope couldn’t be destroyed.
His fingers remembered the moves; his brain recalled the old traditional songs, having had no access to the modern Dnaran songs Teowulf’s music sheets showcased. Milo remained in the house to practice as the walls were well insulated, and Keon was busy at the clearing, preparing for the get-together to welcome the exiles home from Dnara.
Aware of the risk he’d hurt himself or tire out before the night’s events, Milo made sure to rest often. After every twenty minutes, he stopped to drink, flex his fingers, and read a chapter to give his hands a rest. Pausing to roll dough or stir a pot of stew, when Weston let him help prepare the various food for the night, Milo had plenty of distractions.
After two hours, he picked up his crutches to take a walk. He found Keon hovering in the clearing, pointing to the tall tree branches, directing someone standing on a ladder. “To the left,” he called as Milo approached to wait two steps behind. “A tad higher and you’ll be golden.”
Stringed lights wove over a branch; then Haley popped from behind the thick leaves of the tree. “Make up your mind. You just told me to go lower,” she snapped, though it lacked the heat of her usual protests.
Milo smiled, recalling her surprise when Keon had asked if she wanted to help prepare the clearing for the party. Not remotely domestic, Haley had rejoiced at leaving the cooking and arrangements to Milo and Weston at the house, despite it meaning she would spend time with Keon. He’d seen them alone together a handful of times, and Haley normally made it as awkward as possible with silent treatment. Regardless of how she behaved, Keon still tried to include her to remind her she was family, and that meant more to Milo than words could say.
Keon laughed, lifting a hand to wave her down. “It’s fine wherever you put it. No one is going to care that much,” he admitted, the fact he’d been teasing her making Haley scowl though she didn’t hesitate to climb down the ladder.
“You’re a terrible tease,” Milo remarked, immediately becoming the focus of Keon’s attention though he didn’t look surprised to see him.
“You should know.” He winked, then crossed to kiss his cheek and waved a hand in the direction of the clearing. “What do you think?”
“It looks wonderful.”
Keon nodded, eyeing the area with pride. As composed and happy as he looked, Milo knew there was something brewing under the surface. He wasn’t sure what gave it away. There was a vague sense of apprehension in the back of his mind that didn’t feel like his own emotion, though Keon’s thoughts were quiet and content.
Slipping a hand into Keon’s, by letting the crutch rest between his arm and side, Milo leaned in close to whisper, “Are you worried about Eliseo?” It was the only thing Weston had mentioned, throughout their cooking spree, that might linger on Keon’s mind. “Weston said he’d been injured in Dnara.”
Heaving a deep sigh, Keon flashed him a wan smile. “Yeah. He got hurt, and Doctor Robell says he shouldn’t risk the doorway,” he explained, which was more than Weston had shared, as was right for the Beta. “I know he’ll be well taken care of in Dnara, but I’m still worried. He’s got a lot on his shoulders, leading the team, finding the exiles, and dealing with Dnara for the first time, but…”
Keon paused, glanced around the clearing, and lowered his voice to make it hard for other m’weko to hear at a distance. “As Simeon’s mate, he went through a lot of shit I can’t even imagine. Stuff maybe only Drew might understand because he’s experienced it,” he said, reminding Milo of the history between them.
“Like you say, Drew will take care of him,” Milo said, hoping to soothe his worries. If he was right and Drew had experience of a volatile relationship, then he would keep an eye on Eliseo, offer advice, or perhaps help him recover from bad memories and the grief of losing his true mate. “When Eliseo comes home, we’ll make sure he’s safe. If he decides to take a chosen mate, you’ve made it possible to do that safely with the reassurance you’ll always protect him.”
Keon’s thoughtful sadness became a flirtatious smile, and he bent to graze a kiss across his lips. “How do you always know what to say to make me feel better?”
Milo almost rolled his eyes. “How do you know when I need you without me having to ask?” he retaliated because whether it was to help reach something, to hold on to something Milo was about to drop, to ease the ache or stress or burden of whatever he was doing, Keon knew when he was needed.
Just like he always seemed to know when Milo craved his company, his kisses, and the close contact Keon gave freely.
“I guess our bond is growing,” Keon whispered against his lips. “And I couldn’t be happier.”
He felt a blush rising, but didn’t hesitate to reply, “Me too. I…I really love the bond we’ve made.” Milo mirrored Keon’s smile, finally seeing happiness and freedom in his future.
*
Keon
AT THE EDGEof the trees, where the clearing led to the caves, Keon resolved to make this a night to remember. He would officially announce Yosi and Callum’s mating to the pack, as they’d agreed, once he knew Yosi had told Gale.
Welcoming the exiles home was his first priority, but he imagined those who had chosen to return had an idea of what to expect. Eliseo had read the new laws, and Keon had sent a written account to share his vision for the future with anyone who returned from Dnara.
