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“Honey, what if we try to do it again?” I ask excitedly.
My hand roves down his body, landing on the front of his pants. He’s hard, and my excitement amps up even higher.
“This is a welcome home I can get used to,” he growls, hands framing my face as he kisses me hard.
In his arms, with him kissing me voraciously, it’s easy to believe anything—everything—is possible.
I go up on my tiptoes and kiss him back just as vigorously, loving getting lost in his scent, his taste, and the feel of his strong body flush against mine.
“It was so amazing.” I break away from his lips just long enough to say. “I was thinking that maybe if we make love like last night, both of you will wake up again, and maybe this time, the two of you could actually talk.”
The words rush out of my mouth so fast, at first, I don’t notice Remus yank back from me. “Like sexual healing!” I finish excitedly, my eyes searching his.
Remus completely pulls away from me at that, his arms dropping from my face and the light in his eyes dimming. “I don’t want to talk about him,” he says flatly.
My heart sinks a little. Dammit, I’ve probably gone about this all wrong, but I’m not ready to give up yet. “Oh, come on,” I say, putting a hand on his arm. “The whole problem with the two of you is communication. It’s the oldest one in the book. But now that we’ve found a way to spark a connection between the two of you with me as a conduit—”
“You are not a conduit!” Remus says harshly.
But I just shake my head. “Of course I am, silly. I really think this was meant to happen. You went looking for a consort, not realizing the whole time what you really needed was a way to finally connect with your brother, a consort for both of you—”
“I don’t want to fuck you so I can connect to my fucking brother,” Remus says loudly, stalking away from me.
I finally stop, catching up to what I’ve been missing this whole time in my enthusiasm to present him with the idea. I was so excited about my revelation I hadn’t seen how tense he was.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Is there something going on you’re not telling me about?”
His gaze slides to the side. Then he steps forward again, eyes coming back to me even though his body stays tense. “I’ve been looking forward to getting home to you. And for once in my life, I don’t want to think about my goddamned brother. Can’t it just be you and me here? Like it was at the beginning?”
He kisses me, and for a moment, I want to get lost in him and say yes, of course. But even as my hands lift to twine around the back of his neck, they bump into Romulus’s face, and it hits me.
I pull away from his lips. “You’re not wearing your glamour.” And he hasn’t been since he came in. I didn’t register it then because I was so used to them, but his wings brushed the door as he entered.
He closes his eyes, and his wings shimmer, then disappear, along with his tail.
But what was he doing that he hadn’t had his glamour on before he came in? Was a glamour something you had to concentrate all the time on and he accidentally let it slip? Wasn’t that really dangerous here?
And why do I get the feeling he’s trying to distract me from something he doesn’t want to tell me?
When he tries to kiss me again, I pull back this time, searching his eyes. He just closes them, again moving in for a kiss.
“Remus,” I plead, shoving lightly against his chest. “I just want to talk.”
He breathes out hard, not looking frustrated exactly, but when he turns away from me, I get a closed-off feeling from him when usually there are more open lines of communication between us.
“We don’t have to talk about Romulus,” I say but can’t help adding, “even though we have to sometime.” I hold up my hands when his dark eyes flash my way. “It doesn’t have to be now, but your brother is a reality that’s not going away any time soon. Maybe right now, while everything else is going on, isn’t the time. But you’re not the only one in this. He’s a victim here too—”
“Is that what he’s telling you?” Remus lights up, obviously furious. “And who’s the other victim, you?”
“No,” I say, impatient with his attitude. I meant he was the other victim of the circumstances they’re caught in, but obviously, that’s the wrong wording to use with someone as prideful as him. “He’d never say that. He’s long-suffering about the whole thing, but he deserves a life and happiness, too, you know. We all do.”
“And you’d be happier with him, is that it?”
I throw my hands up in frustration. “I never said that. If you would just listen to the words coming out of my mouth. I don’t think anyone should suffer in loneliness when there’s plenty of love to go around.”
He scoffs. “Just say it with your full chest. You prefer him to me, and you’re both trying to edge me out.”
“What?” All the breath leaves my chest. I try to approach him, but he physically bars me from him with his hands.
