Atlas looksstunning, so pure and absolutely glowing before me. Sometimes I seem to forget that he was always like this, until the curse.
And now, every time I see him, I’m overcome with an affection that suffocates me. I remember my baby brother, toddling around in his sleep clothes as he followed me to bed, unwilling to sleep in his own quarters. I see him at fourteen, blooming so beautifully and telling me all about his future, where he’d plant flowers and sing songs to his children.
Now he’s in university and stronger than any one man should be, having gone through what he has. Yet still so, so pretty.
“Darling,” I murmur, entering his room fully to shut the door behind myself.
Atlas lifts his gaze, finding me in the mirror. “Atticus! How do I look? Is it too much?”
I can see his nerves, his anxiety, and his excitement. Tonight is clearly a big deal for Atlas, and I feel some semblance of guilt that I’m making it mentally all about me.
“You look amazing,” I tell him.
Atlas beams, his big blue eyes shimmering as his lips quirk into a small, shy smile. “Thank you.”
“Julian is downstairs watching party preparations like a guard dog,” I add, only half joking.
“Oh, lord.” Atlas laughs. “I’m going to have to tighten my leash if he doesn’t hurry up and get dressed. The party starts soon.”
I make a hum of agreement, sitting on the edge of his bed as he fiddles with his blouse.
“Atticus,” he starts. “Can I ask you a question?”
The tone of his voice has suddenly turned serious, his eyes darting nervously between me and his mirror.
“Of course.”
“I just… I was wondering if you think it’s weird that I’ve stopped going to the chapel so much?” he asks.
Ever since the curse was broken, Atlas has returned to only attending occasional Sunday services when the family convenes. He no longer makes it a habit, and itissomething I noticed, but it’s nothing I perceived as weird.
I would be a hypocrite if I did, considering I don’t even attend the family services anymore. Not now that I’ve sold ten years of my life to a demon.
“No,” I answer gently. “I don’t believe it’s weird. Before, you were trying to work through a very difficult situation, praying for answers revolving around your curse. Now you’re a normal guy.”
Atlas nods, but the expression on his face tells me he thinks it’s more than that, though he doesn’t elaborate on it.
Instead, he clears his throat and asks, “Did something happen to you? That night in my room, when you said you’d cured me… I heard a scream. Has something… weird happened?”
Fuck. Ishouldsay yes; I should probably tell somebody what I did. But the dark spell didn’t work; it didn’t save him, and his knowing I lost a decade in my attempt will only harm him in the end. He’ll blame himself.
So, I reply, “No. Don’t worry about it, darling.”
With a frown, he directs his attention back to his birthday outfit.
Then, from downstairs, we hear Julian yell, “Guests are arriving!”
“Alright!” With a clap of his hands, Atlas turns on his heel, and his bright smile returns. “It’s time to party!”
The drawing room is becoming more packed by the second with various familiar and unfamiliar faces. Several people arelingering in the center of the room, talking or dancing, and one is lounging on the chaise with a cup full ofjungle juicein his hand.
I make a mental note that if it’s stained in the morning, I’ll be demanding that the cost be taken out of Julian’s paycheck.
Why? Because he’s currently grinding on my little brother by the snack table, kissing his mouth like a starving man and unbothered by the current company getting an eyeful.
I’m also slightly irritated because on our way downstairs, Atlas told me that on Monday—his actual birthday—he’ll be flying to California with Julian so that he can see Julian’s hometown. Which, of course, meansIwon’t get to see him on such a special day.
Plus, why would Atlas requestthatas his birthday present? Odd.
