Elbows on the table, Gedeon steepled his fingers. “Like every other day.”
“Black is not a color.” My cheeks ached from trying to keep my amusement in check, and Gedeon’s glower only fueled it further.
“But your shirt isblue,” Nara pressed. “And Kali is right; black cannot be considered an actual color. It’s the corpse of colors.”
Gedeon closed his eyes, his chest slowly expanding and collapsing. He’d spent this morning trying on the entire collection of t-shirts to determine which one screamedcolorthe least. As if that was even a thing.
Admittedly, it was also one of the best mornings I’d had in the last decade.
“Blue looks good on you.” Sana wrapped a black curl around her finger, the ink encircling her wrist identifying her as Conall’s second-in-command. Not a surprise that she’d claimed the seat closest to the door, ready to serve as the last line of defense for her leaders in case of an ambush. “You should wear it more often.”
“I also packed a pink t-shirt for him.” Zion patted Gedeon’s thigh. “If you want him to wear it for the wedding ceremony, Conall, that can be arranged.”
The table exploded. Shaking, Damia threw her head back. Her daughter, even if not by blood, cackled just like her mother, their laughter boisterous enough to loop in Conall and his partners and lure me into succumbing to its call as well.
Grabbing Gedeon’s nape and chin, Zion planted a loud kiss on his nose, and Gedeon’s impossibly deep sigh inspired another round of howling.
Trembling, I gave myself over it. The last memory of such pure joy was so old, I’d dismissed any attempts to locate its date.
Zion hooked an elbow on his chair’s backseat, an embodiment of satiated insanity.
Gedeon’s lip corner twitched upward.
But a blast of wind shut the cracked-open window, the bang so jarring our laughter died in its tracks.
Gedeon’s expression hardened. “I called this meeting because you are the only ones I fully trust. Eleven people out of the thousands residing in our compounds.”
Without a second thought, I squeezed his leg. He tensed, but once his muscles loosened, so did the hail pattering me from the inside. Yes, I was furious at him, my rage without bounds, but my heart had never ceased belonging to him, same as to Zion. The stupid organ wouldn’t listen to reason.
“I have discovered who the traitor in my compound is.” His jawline as harsh as the revelation, Gedeon addressed Conall. “And I know who is in yours.”
33
GEDEON
Silence so potent it wilted the air descended like bars of a cage around the room at the top of the highest and still-in-a-habitable-condition building in Conall’s compound.
Aanya placed her pale hand on top of Nissa’s on the oak table right as Dain squeezed Conall’s shoulder, their foursome so in tune I yearned to have the same one day. To know someone so intimately, so fully you could feel, not know, but actuallyfeelwhat pained them, what made their blood boil, what beckoned that twinkle in their eyes to surface, what lured their laughter out to grace you with its chime.
I had not considered settling down before. The opposite—I had made fun of people seeking it. Conall was the same. So once my childhood friend had announced he had met someone, orsomeones, to be precise, and was considering completing the ritual called a wedding, I had teased him incessantly.
Provoking him had used to fill me with joy, as that was what you did with your siblings, related by blood or not, but now…I understood my friend’s pondering.
Although a ritual would not keep you together, could not function as glue by far, it was a step that asked to state your intentions out loud. Admit them not merely to your partners, butto yourself. Such as awakening each morning and consciously choosing to face challenges together instead of fighting each other.
Yes, hurt could not be avoided—we all were as flawed as anyone—but it wasn’t the spur-of-the-moment words that made or broke a relationship. It was respecting your partners, putting them above your intrinsic selfishness, and giving your all in caring for them.
Conall had noticed the change in me, based on his knowing smile in response to me tugging Zion’s chair closer to me earlier. The three feet between us had been a distance too great.
But confessing that I knew who the traitor among our ranks was and that I had withheld the information from the two people I would die for…it raised mountains in the small space between Kali sitting on my left and Zion on my right.
My peripherals betrayed her going rigid and him drumming his fingers on the sheath secured to his upper arm, the black leather strap digging into his bicep.
I was in a lot of trouble. An ocean of it.
A hunch whispered to me that Zion would be fine with me having kept the names of the rats to myself for a while. Undoubtedly, he would be a tad frustrated at not having had the opportunity to drag them to his underground to play until he quenched the thirst of his blade, but Kali…
I had betrayed her trust by vanishing for three months. Although assuming I had secluded myself would be a lie. I could not leave the axis my world spun around, so I had stayed in the shadows. Wreathed by darkness, I had watched them both roam our streets from afar. Cloaked by late night’s gloom, I had counted the silhouettes moving in the windows of our rooms. I had cashed in favors owed to me, employed Zola’s help, and navigated Ilasall to protect Kali’s and Zion’s backs when they visited the network of our contacts.
