Chapter forty-two
Diablos
We traveled for several days, taking more breaks than necessary. We were postponing getting home as long as we could, both of us knew it, neither saying it out loud.
It was time. We were back in town, and Bren had called half an hour ago to tell me King was out and wouldn't be back for several hours. This was our chance to explain everything to our brothers, hoping they would understand.
Would they accept two of their brothers being together? Could they understand why Dagon hid that he was a demon, and could they accept that I was one now, too? So many what-ifs crowded my mind.
My heart hammered in my chest, all previous calm gone. I took deep breaths and focused on the thread connecting me to Dagon, drawing comfort from his hand in mine.
Mostly, I was worried about Dagon. He acted indifferent during the ride, but I felt his unease through our bond, and it hurt to see him this way.
As we pulled into the driveway, determination surged within me. Dagon had always protected us from the shadows, watching silently. He carried his pain alone after losing his brother, but that ended now. It was my turn to protect him.
Dagon parked and faced me, masking his feelings behind harsh lines and a cold stare, though I saw warmth and love hidden beneath. He leaned over, kissing me softly. "It'll be okay, trust me."
Even now, he comforted me. But what did he need in this moment?
The front door flew open, and our brothers rushed out. Bren sprinted toward us, and I jumped from the car, grinning. He threw himself at me. "I missed youuu!"
"I missed you too, Bren."
After checking me over, he tackled Dagon, who stumbled, clearly shocked. Bren shook him playfully. "Jesus, don't you know how to give a hug?"
Dagon awkwardly hugged him back, relaxing a bit.
Wild hugged me next. "You okay, little one?"
"I told you we'd be fine." He nodded, stepping aside.
Andras approached Dagon, then me. "Glad you're home." He didn't hug, but his eyes spoke volumes.
Luc silently hugged us both, warmth evident in his quiet manner.
"Let's talk inside," Bren suggested. "Luggage?"
"We'll grab it later," I answered. "We need to talk first. Let's go to the gaming room."
They exchanged looks, but Dagon guided them inside. Fuck, I didn’t know how any of them would react. The only person I was not worried about was Bren, and it was comforting to know we’d have someone on our side.
“How do you want to do this?”I heard Dagon’s voice in my mind.
“Let me do the talking in the beginning?”
“Okay.”
Once gathered, Bren poured whiskey, handing me a glass without comment. Dagon stood stiffly between us, uncertain. It was like he didn’t know how to act and didn’t feel he belonged here.
Taking a deep breath, I began, "There's a lot to tell you, and honestly, it's hard to start. I'm asking you to listen to our story, our side. And then you make your own decisions on how to react and if you still want us in your life.”
“What's going on?” Wild asked, confused.
I contemplated where to begin and what to say first. But all it took was seeing Dagon so uncomfortable, and I knew. Not taking my eyes off him, I took another sip of my whiskey and left it on the bar. His eyes widened because he realized what I was about to do.
Taking one step and then another, I approached him and took his hand in mine. Leaning over, I whispered in his ear, “You belong here.”
His tension eased slightly. When we pulled apart, I looked at our brothers, and their reaction would have been hilarious if I wasn’t so worried. Andras and Wilder’s jaws were on the floor, Luc looked confused, and Bren was smiling like a fool.
