By the sound echoing from the office, Kizros had just slammed a glass object down with so much force Aofe was surprised nothing had shattered. “I’m not sequestering Aofe to the back room, nor keeping her from that work. She’s done nothing wrong.”
Cold sluiced down Aofe’s spine as she stiffened.
“And for the record,” Kizros continued, voice rising, “she’s actuallyimprovedhalf a dozen of my methods already from redundant steps and alternate ingredients. A few clients creating bullshit excuses to shop elsewhere doesn’t botherme because I never wanted nor needed their business. So don’t pretend you’re worried about my finances when I’ve been doing this for years and not once asked for your advice.”
“Watch your tone, Son,” Karroth growled, but Kizros’s answering scoff was louder.
“Don’t youdareinsult her again, do I make myself clear?” he snarled, and this time it was Ukela who stiffened at her son’s declaration. “And the next time you speak about her disability with disgust, or suggest I ‘trade her for another’, just remember our history. What our ancestors were called here to be, and what those humans almost became. Aofe deserves to take up as much space as she likes, and if I don’t hear from Rosalind that you’ve petitioned for more protections and accessibility for the humans, I will drag the Kosteri name through Dreadmoor’s muck and not regret a thing. I have enough on you and Mother to last an entire week of court hearings, and I can easily find more.”
Aofe blinked in shock, feeling the sunburst charm warm against her skin.
There was an awfully long silence before Karroth said slowly, “Is that a threat?”
Kizros snorted. “Thought that was pretty fucking clear.”
Aofe jolted as the door swung open, Kizros’s body filling the doorway in a rush. He froze when he spotted her, glanced over to find his mother looking horrified, then ground his jaw as he turned away.
Fury and disappointment weighed on hisfeatures as he strode toward Aofe, stopping just before her. To her surprise, his teeth had elongated into sharp points—confirming she had noticed it before, even if he’d hidden them from her. His chest rose and fell, and though he looked to have a million things he wanted to say, nothing but angry breaths escaped his lips.
But despite that anger, she could see something else in the blackness of his eyes. A vulnerability and a fear, not just for what she might have overheard, but what his anger had manifested in him. His version of the violence he despised had slipped through the cracks in his armor, and he was terrified.
Terrified for whatshemight think of him now.
Aofe kept her eyes locked on his tormented ones, softened everything about her even though she wanted to match his fury. With careful balance, she reached out and placed her hand on his chest. Pressed against the heart pounding wildly against her palm.
“Let’s go home, Kiz,” she whispered gently.
He blinked down at her, jaw working with what she knew would be some cruel remark that he would regret come morning. But in that moment, she saw so much of herself in him: a pain that ran deeper than what lived on the surface, but also something stronger, desperate to shine through.
So Aofe slid her hand down to find his palm, wrapping her fingers around his warm skin. Even with the threat of his sharp claws, she didn’t hesitate.
He would never hurt her.
“Please,” she said, squeezing gently. “They don’t deserve any more of your beautiful voice tonight.”
It broke whatever numbness he’d fallen into. Kizros nodded, and without another glance back, he gave her space to turn so they could walk away from his parents.
11
BLUE DECOR
Aofe
Aofe folded her hands in her lap, picking at her fingernail to keep from some other dramatic reaction to Kizros’s silence, like unraveling the stitching of her dress or flinging herself over him to protect him from the curious looks their carriage was getting.
She’d wondered at his request earlier that evening that the driver stay in the Kosteri courtyard but was starting to understand a lot more about the demon sitting across from her.
Kizros held a fist to his mouth, barely bothered by the movement of the cart as he stared out at nothing. It was such a horrible contrast to even his anxious actions, she feared for what might be running through his thoughts.
Well, she suspected shedidknow, and that was even worse than watching him shut her out in favor of busy tasks like sweeping the same corner of the shop for three days straight or overwatering Tim until he actively started moving his pot away from the watering can.
But even in his absentminded state, Kizros still offered the driver a polite nod of thanks when they made it back to the shop, waiting until he was certain Aofe was clear of the carriage before sending it away. And he was still respectful, opening the shop door and letting her enter first.
Despite the always fresh, earthy smell of the apothecary, the air felt heavy as Kizros closed the door and locked it behind him. Aofe watched patiently, body leaning against Tim’s shelf while the vine anxiously writhed against her shoulder, mirroring the emotion from his owner.
Kizros pressed his forehead to the door, tension lining his shoulders. He inhaled audibly then blew a long enough breath out that it condensed on the glass. He didn’t bother reaching up to light the shop, and with the starlight outside, it was dark but not impossible to see when his shadow finally turned away from the door.
“Aofe, I’m so?—”
