“Indeed. I have to say that it makes me rather happy we have a liquid diet.”
Suddenly, someone cleared his throat loudly behind them. “Should I ask why you’re stripping the clothes off my brother, Dav?”
Urian glanced over his shoulder to see a clean and neatly polished Paris glaring at them. “Like you, I didn’t want to go home bloody and reeking to my wife.”
Paris crossed his arms over his chest. “But you don’t mind reeking around my husband?”
“Not really. Don’t care if I repulse him.”
Paris laughed as he finally relaxed. “Fair point.” He came over to help Urian strip down so that he could clean up. “It was disgusting. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
Davyn snorted. “I can’t believe you two didn’t take me. She was my mother, too.”
Paris was instantly contrite. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about it. And I didn’t want you to feel bad.”
Urian quickly finished bathing while they drifted off to their bedroom, dropping garments as they went. “Paris, I’m going to borrow some clothes and let myself out while you apologize for being an ass.”
They rumbled a response that was punctuated by some rather eyebrow-raising sounds that made it even more awkward for him.
Wishing he shared that level of passion with his spouse, Urian quickly finished, then picked up his sword and shield and Paris’s cloak before heading toward his quiet, secluded home.
Unlike Davyn for Paris, no one waited up for him.
A quick sweep of his cottage found the children nestled in their beds, fast asleep. As was Xanthia. Which only made the emptiness inside Urian ache all the more. Even at home, he felt like an outsider.
Unwelcome in his own house.
In his own family. He still didn’t feel as if he belonged anywhere.
Except with a dragon.
How weird was that?
Sighing, Urian placed his sword in its bracket on the wall and hung up his shield, then stoked the fire for his wife. Xanthia was cold natured, so he always made a point to put new wood on the fire before he went to bed and to get up before her so that the room wouldn’t be too chilly whenever she awoke.
As he stood, he realized that she was watching him from the bed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I heard what you did tonight.” Her tone was cold and brittle.
He did his best to play it off, hoping she’d let the matter go. “Oh?”
She glared up at him. Her eyes were bitter in their judgment. “Everyone was talking about it after Theo returned without you and the others, and he told what the lot of you had planned. They say the humans will retaliate now. That they’ll come here to find us.”
He snorted at her ridiculous fear. As if a human could get through one of Apollymi’s bolt-holes, and even if they did, they’d land at his father’s feet in the center hall. A bad day for the human, but a good dinner for whatever Daimon happened to be there.
They could use the snack.
So he smirked at his wife. “I doubt that. If anything, they should fear us more.” It was the first time any Apollite or Daimon had ever struck back at them.
And it was long past time for such, in his opinion.
Sadly, Xanthia didn’t share his point of view. Rather, she curled her lip at him. “You’re a monstrous killer, Urian. I’m ashamed of what you’ve done.”
Those words cut him deeply. But not nearly as much as the condemnation in her eyes. That stung soul deep.
“I see.” He put the poker down beside the fireplace and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?”
