Rought shouts a warning. But by the time I turn around, placing Presh behind me, I already find myself nose-to-nose with a hulking cu-sith.
Ears pressed back against his wide skull, the beast bares his teeth, soundlessly huffing. Hot breath explodes across my cheeks. Then, just enough for it to be intentional, the cu-sith lowers his head and twists to expose his neck. No hint of Reck in the blazing red eyes or malevolent essence.
“Totally believable,” I huff right back. Then, because apparently I’m still not in possession of all my wits, I reach up and run the flat of my hand up the cu-sith’s long snout and between his wide-spaced eyes, massaging his forehead.
The cu-sith presses lightly into my touch, squinting.
“There are no threads between us,” I whisper. I already knew that, felt that severed bond in my own hands as it dissipated into the aether. But still, the loss aches through my chest.
Undeterred, the cu-sith presses his nose lightly against my chest, right where I should have a tattoo of an anatomical floral heart.
“Fine,” I say, forcing myself to move through the residual numbness, through the incredible loss that has hollowed me out from within. I lost those bonds and that future many years ago. Mourning that loss in the now is useless. “You can tag along. But no interference.”
Rath swears viciously, but the cu-sith is so huge I can’t see either of my mates behind him.
“Bellamy?” Presh presses her shoulder to mine, showing not even a hint of fear of her eldest brother’s beast.
“Absolutely not, Zaya,” Rath says from somewhere behind the cu-sith. “We’re not going up against the Outcast for the dire awry, not yet. You just got back. You’re clearly exhausted. We need to debrief. We need to know what’s coming.”
“See what I’m up against?” Presh whispers. Then she adds, loudly, “Bellamy has been imprisoned for as long as you’ve been gone.”
“Imprisoned …” Rath huffs.
He’s certainly not wrong about the debriefing. But instead, I say, “I doubt the Outcast’s cells are strong enough to hold her.” I’m massaging behind the cu-sith’s ear now. The beast tilts his head obligingly, closing his eyes. “If she wanted to leave.”
“That’s why we have to go get her,” Presh says, reaching up to run her fingers through the thick green fur on the cu-sith’s neck. “It’s like … it’s a gesture, you know? That she can trust us.”
The cu-sith’s red eyes slit open for a moment, gazing at the young awry. Then the beast allows the touch to continue.
It’s more than possible I’m a terrible influence on Precious. A terrible role model for a younger awry — and further to that thought, Cal flits through my mind. But … if Presh wants to gather all her siblings to her, then I’m not going to stand in her way.
Rought’s incredible patience has apparently been stretched long enough, because he shoulders around the cu-sith, knocking a bunch of the tables to the side. Then he pulls me into his arms.
Not that I don’t reach for him at the exact same time.
The cu-sith shifts back just enough to give us a little space.
Rought curls around me, pressing chest to chest so I can feel the energy of our bond pulsing between us.
“That was very … difficult,” he murmurs against my ear.
“Yes,” I whisper back.
“Let’s not do it again.” He presses his forehead against mine, one hand moving to cup the back of my neck.
I lay my hand over his chest, over where I know his heart tattoo is etched into his skin. I meet his gaze steadily. I want to protect all of them, especially from their father, but I understand so much more about the bonds between us now. “Agreed.”
Energy shifts through Rought. Relaxing, as if he’s been holding it ready. For an argument with me? Or just primed to defend us all from attack?
Presh wiggles her way into the hug, looping our arms over her shoulders and laying her head against her brother’s chest.
I catch movement out of the corner of my eye — DeVille shifting side to side and eyeing us. I raise my hand. The younger shifter takes the invitation without further prompting, crowding up against Presh but careful not to touch her. I wrap my hand around the back of his neck.
Gigi and Coda have stepped back through the still open doors. The combat mage is keeping herself between the cu-sith and the tech awry as they quietly converse.
“That your new car in the lot, Zaya?” DeVille asks hopefully. “She is a beauty. I’ve never seen one in —”
“Andy,” Presh groans, “we’re having a nice moment.”
