She stepped away as Emory walked back into the room, and Cameron was surprised to find his eyes were stinging. He’d had worse said to him before, by someone who was supposed to love him. She was virtually a stranger, and her words shouldn’t matter, but that last comment had struck a little too close to home.
He hadn’t put his gender on his profile, but he’d been sharing more trans and gender-nonconforming posts and had also joined a few groups for demiboys. He couldn’t remember off the top of his head if he’d been tagged in any photos wearing more femme-coded clothing.
It wasn’t all the time, and it sure wasn’t around everyone, but Cameron was having fun experimenting with different ways to present himself and his gender. He’d begun dressing more nontraditionally around Christopher and Ronan, and it was possible a few photos had made it onto his profile.
Emory appeared oblivious to the tension in the room. He walked back over to Cameron’s side and placed a soft kiss on his head. If looks could kill, Cameron would surely be dead, because Leslie looked at him like he’d walked into her house and kicked her puppy.
On the drive back across the estate, Cameron found himself zoning out, something he used to do a lot to get through some of the rougher days with Thomas. He did his best to pull out his charm at dinner, but he could feel himself wilting, and by the time they made it back to Emory’s bedroom, all he wanted to do was collapse in bed. First, though, he needed to check his social media and see how damning it was.
To his dismay, several of the groups he’d joined were visible on his profile, and in one of his most recent photos, he was wearing a blouse that showed off a decent amount of his collarbones and chest. Emory had really liked the shirt, and he’d been the one to post the photo. Clearly, there was nothingCameron could do about it now, and there was no use worrying Emory over it. Instead, he burrowed as deeply as he could into Emory’s warm, safe embrace and tried to ignore the anxious knot in his stomach.
The next morning, Emory fielded most of the questions the aunts lobbed at them over breakfast. Cameron was just getting his strength back, flexing those socializing muscles, when Leslie swept in with her bad attitude and a new barrage of pointed observations. She was careful of who she said them around. When Cameron was with Emory, Corin, or Ariel, Leslie would whisper to the other aunts, but the second Emory had to field a question or take a call, she somehow materialized at Cameron’s side.
“Emory has always had mixed taste in partners. We all figured he’d end up with an omega, as most alpha lion shifters do, but regardless of their secondary gender, we envisioned him with a nice man or woman…someone confident and sure enough of themselves to stand by his side. Someone who could keep up with the business,” she said, following after Cameron as he tried to escape into the flower garden.
“I promise, I have a lot of experience in the business world?—”
“Yes, you said that, dear, but I just don’t know how well you fit in with the familyimage.”
Cameron’s octopus cringed, and Cameron tried to hide his response by doubling back and heading around to the other side of the house.
“For years, the company has exuded an image of professionalism and good taste,” she said, easily following Cameron as he ducked around a hedge. “Who our CEO chooses to mate with reflects directly on the family, and you must be aware of that, or you would not have come to meet his family.”
“I am aware of the added scrutiny our relationship will face, but?—”
“Has he met your parents yet? They’re water shifters like you, but not octopuses?” Leslie asked as they stepped over the threshold into one of the living rooms.
“No, they’re seahorses,” Cameron said, his octopus bristling at any mention of his family. Insulting him was one thing, but he wouldn’t stand for anyone speaking ill of his parents or sister. They had quite literally saved his life.
“Seahorses, huh? Bit of a romantic bunch, aren’t they? They typically have quite large families if I’m not mistaken.”
Cameron wasn’t even sure how to respond to that, but before he could, an aunt he hadn’t met yet approached, and Leslie turned her pointed nose up and pivoted to speak with her instead.
He trudged back towards the kitchen and was relieved to find Emory there, in an intense-looking conversation on the phone.
Cameron’s octopus set out a plaintive pulse of energy before Cameron could stop it, but thankfully—unthankfully? Cameron wasn’t sure anymore—Emory walked out of the room before it could reach him.
Cameron pulled out his phone and opened his chat with Ronan. The silly little pirate hat middle finger made his eyes sting. His octopus wasn’t very good at typing, and Cameron couldn’t force himself to write out the text he knew he needed to send.
Instead, he pocketed his phone and turned to engage with one of the aunts who seemed the least likely to notice how wet his eyes were.
Chapter Twelve
Emory
Emory had never put much thought into the mating rituals of his pride. Before his father died, he hadn't been worried about mating, and afterward, he’d been so consumed with work he hadn’t had much time to consider the role his father would have played. As the hours trudged by on their visit, he felt his father’s absence like a gaping wound in his chest.
His father had always known how to handle Leslie and the other aunts. He had seamlessly navigated family politics and somehow known how to cater to the cliques that had formed, some of which rivaled those Emory had dealt with in high school.
Their first day had started out smoothly. They visited several of the family homes, and Emory was as impressed as ever at the way Cameron could bounce between conversations and field questions as if it were no big deal. Visiting Corin and Ariel had been the highlight of Emory’s month, and he tried to ride that wave into Leslie’s house, only to come crashing back down to earth.
Emory wasn’t able to put his finger on why, but it was clear she immediately disliked Cameron. Her questions were sharp and fast, giving Cameron no time to respond. Emory’s lion, who had been mostly calm, began to pace, angry that she was so blatantly uninterested in getting to know their fated mate.
He managed to keep his lion in check, and overall, he’d thought they’d made it out relatively unscathed, but Cameron seemed withdrawn at dinner. He responded to direct questions but otherwise sat quietly, pushing food around his plate.
The next morning, Cameron acted more like his usual self, and Emory tried to forget his worries from the previous day. Unfortunately, Leslie came over for breakfast and stayed the entire day, souring the mood of the rest of the house. It was like she was a poisonous gas, seeping under the doors and spreading up the walls.
As the day progressed, Cameron attempted to velcro himself to Emory’s side. While his lion basked in the attention, Emory could almost picture Cameron’s tentacles tightening around him, and he didn’t think that was a good thing.
