Bastien’s jaw went slack at the unexpected appearance of Fain Hauk. St. Jake… it’d been a long time, but his old friend looked good. Healthy. A lot more mentally stable than he’d been back in the day.
Fain was a huge beast of a creature—even larger than Dancer. And like his younger brother, he had traditional Andarion warrior braids, too, except a portion of his had been bleached white and he was dressed in Tavali gear with one of their masks hanging loose around his neck.
Bastien frowned as he vaguely recalled seeing some of their gear with Fain back in the day. Weird that he’d never thought to ask Fain about it, nor had he assumed Fain to be a member of their outlawed guild since it was a death sentence in most empires to be caught with any Tavali markings, Canting, or gear.
Including Kirovar.
But unlike Jullien, who was part of the Tavali Gorturnum Nation and had a black bug-looking Canting, Fain had a solid red sleeve badge, which meant he was a Rogue pilot. Someone who owed neither tithe nor allegiance to any single Tavali Nation.
Bastien dipped his gaze to see that even after all these years, Fain still wore Galene’s engagement ring around his pinkie. While he might have married Omira, Galene Batur was the one female alive who’d always owned Fain’s heart.
Like Bastien with Ember. She would always be the one who’d gotten away. The one he regretted losing.
Sumi turned around slowly.
And the pain on Fain’s painted face was tangible. He stared at her as if she were a ghost whose sole purpose was to haunt him.
Darling glanced back and forth between them. “You two know each other?”
“I was married to her older sister.” Fain blinked as if finally getting a handle on the fact that she wasn’t Omira and that she meant him no harm.
Jayne smacked her hand against her own forehead. “That’s why she looks so familiar. I knew I recognized her from somewhere. Stupid me. I was thinking bounty sheets, not Fain’s wife.”
Fain’s gaze dropped to Dancer’s head in Sumi’s lap. In that moment, Dancer blinked his eyes open as if he felt his brother’s presence. Guilt and anguish marked his features as he realized how this must look to Fain.
Moving forward, Fain dropped to his knees next to Dancer. “Hey,drey. You still with me?”
Dancer scowled. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Fain asked in a shocked tone.
He glanced at Sumi then back to Fain. “I never meant to hurt you.”
Fain cupped Dancer’s head in his hands. “Dancer… this doesn’t hurt me.” He gave him a sincere smile. “You deserve to be happy,kiran. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.” He dropped his hand to Dancer’s then he took Sumi’s into his other hand and joined them together. “Don’t let my past darken or taintyourfuture. I love both mykisaandkiran. I always have.”
Even so, Bastien saw the ragged torment in Fain’s eyes. It was a pain he knew all too well himself.
“I’d rather you hit me,drey.”
Fain laughed at Dancer’s words. “You’re too weak at the moment. Few days… I’ll be happy to beat you down.”
He playfully slapped his brother’s face. “You suck as a brother. I want my money back.”
Fain snorted. “Could be worse. I’m stuck withyou.”
Bastien bit his lip to stifle the unexpected tears those words wrought inside him. And the guilt and self-recrimination they awoke. How many times had he yelled at his brother and called him every insult he knew in six languages?
He’d stupidly thought he hated Quin—so much that he’d blown off their last holiday together because he’d refused to sit through another dinner with Quin eyeballing him and judging him as lacking. For that matter, he’d barely stomached Lil most days. He’d looked for any excuse to avoid being around them, wishing he was anywhere else other than in their company.
Until they were gone.
Now… he’d give anything to see them and apologize. Trade every bit of his future life if he could go back to one single memory and relive it with them as a whole family.
Even a fight.
Why hadn’t I gone to that stupid holiday dinner whenØda asked me?
How could they be gone now? Why was he still here without them? For that pain alone, he wanted to beat his uncle until nothing was left of him. Barnabas should have killed him, too. Should have never left a single breath in his body.
