That does sound rough. I have a hard enough time with my own half the time; I don’t need other people's, too. I don’t know many incubi personally, but even so, thinking about how many I’ve ever heard of forming emotional bonds… Well, the answer is zero.
“It was just before I finished college, about three years ago, right before we ran. We went out to Starview College for one of Gavin’s things.”
I remember that; it was one of the times I hadn’t been able to go. I’d been back at court with my parents... yippee.
We didn’t always go to every event together; there were far too many of us doing too many things, but we tried to stick together. We’d formed a brotherhood of sorts when we were younger, and while Dimitri and Felix are older than us, they’d been part of it too.
Life did a damn good job of tearing us apart where it could, but something tells me Wren might be the only thing that can get us all back on the same page.
I look around the room from Dimitri to Titus, back over to Nolan, and finally to Felix, who sulks in the corner, hidden in his shadows, unable to leave, the same as the rest of us.
The difference is that he can’t be around her for her own safety. Even beyond Titus’s fear that Felix might harm her, she’s a dud, which makes her weak in our world. Everyone knows that the Miller coven is run by means of cruelty; their father is the worst of them all.
If he got a whiff of Felix’s clearly growing feelings…
I shudder to even think what he might do.
The only person missing is Gavin, and he can huff and puff all he wants, but I know he’ll cave, eventually. I’ve seen the way he looks at her when he thinks nobody’s watching, seen the change already after just a few weeks; he’s just stubborn.
“She wiped the floor with him, and he was so mad. He spent hours bitching about how she was cheating in the room, and I just needed five minutes, so I slipped away for a smoke.” He waves a hand through the air, and Iseeit. I’m not sure if it’s his sorcerer abilities or his incubus, but it’s like I’m there, standing in the middle of his memory.
He jogs down the stairs and out the back door. It’s no wonder she was drawn to him, in his leather jacket, dyed hair, tattoos, and piercings. He’s younger by a handful of years and has that bad-boy look all the girls always fell all over themselves for.
Hell, there was a time when I thought he was a gift from Mother Earth herself.
Everything changes when he walks out that door, and on the stairs sits a young Wren, crying and alone.
“She wasn’t out celebrating, didn’t have a single friend. She just sat alone, crying on the stairs.”
My chest aches at the memory, even if it’s not my own.
“I couldn't just leave her. Even if I knew I probably should have, it was like something was pulling me to her.”
“She has that effect on people,” I assure him, because I know all too well what that feels like. From the second she came knocking at our door, I’d been drawn to her, even after I realized who she was.
We watch as the night plays out, how she comes out of her shell, smiling and laughing with him.
She’s still just as beautiful, but something about her then seems lighter. It takes me a few, but as they walk the path, I realize this must be who she was before Jordan died.
I didn’t know he was dead, her twin, and according to her, it was at the hands of her aunt.
There’s a lot to unpack there, but now isn’t the time. Right now, I just want to help her get through this showcase in one piece, which seems like it will take more work than it should.
We watch as they kiss before he waves the vision away, and I pout my lip.
“It was just getting good.”
He shakes his head at me and rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree.
“So why didn’t you break the bond after? Why keep it all this time?” Titus asks, though I have a feeling he knows the answer.
“I couldn’t.” It’s impossible to miss the strain in his voice, as if the very thought pains him.
He doesn’t say why, offers no explanation, and we don’t push him for one.
“So, why not tell her it’s you?” I ask instead because that bit doesn’t make sense.
He rubs the back of his neck and looks down at the table, a tell that he’s uncomfortable, one I haven’t seen in a while.
