Soren’s eyes widened, a flash of gold passing through them before they schooled themselves. "I am fine.”
"Okay.” Archer didn’t try to push Soren to say more. They were obviously not fine. Didn’t mean they wanted to talk about it with him though.
Things were quiet for several minutes. Mira and Archer worked their clay as Soren meandered around the room looking at their mother’s various pieces of work.
Eventually it was Soren who spoke. “I am glad you are here, Archer.”
Archer didn't know what had happened earlier. He didn't know what was going on or what this place actually was. He didn't know what Soren was carrying or why it had put that look in their eyes.
But he knew these people were changing his life in ways he had no hope of avoiding. They were carving themselves into his heart bit-by-bit, filling in spaces he thought would remain empty.
He'd been given more affection in a handful of days than in his whole life before arriving in San Noctis.
CHAPTER 12
Romilly
You can’t delay this any further, Romilly thought to himself.It’s time to tell him.
The thought was easier than the action. For Romilly suspected his mate might not be as easygoing about his true form as he had been everything else.
Staying in the castle until he healed didn’t match the level of understanding one would need to grasp humans weren’t the only species in existence. And to add to the knowledge, his little human mate would have to be told he’d been staying in a home full of fierce dragon shifters.
He could see the conversation taking a dangerous turn.
And more than anything, Romilly didn’t want to risk losing his mate. He’d only just found his heart.
From the moment he’d brought Archer into his home, he understood he was on borrowed time. He’d told himself there would be a correct moment, somewhere in the distance, that’s he’d have to share the news.
Romilly knew timing was as important to this as was his intent. If he delivered the news wrong, then it couldn’t be undone.
With each minute of each day that passed, he felt the walls of his secret closing in. Never had he been so nervous to speak with someone. Never had he doubted he had the skill to navigate a meeting.
Soren’s arrival pushed ahead his timelines. Not only had his brothers mentioned their sibling by name, but the magic in the castle was also at an all-time high after Soren’s tantrum in Romilly’s office.
Then again, tantrum wasn’t the correct term. Soren’s feelings were valid, as was the situation they faced with the Fae, though both centered in misunderstanding.
Regardless of the details, there was no denying his little mate would pick up on the changes around him. He’d been perceptive in many ways already. Romilly would be damned if he found out from anyone other than himself.
He was done waiting. If he wanted a future with Archer —and dear Fate, did he want that— then he needed to put on his big boy wings. They couldn’t build a forever on a foundation of lies.
Romilly found Archer shortly before breakfast in Eden’s playroom, his legs crossed as he held a big picture book in his lap. The way his heart soared would have brought alarm to the healers had they been nearby.
His dragon even preened at seeing their mate so relaxed in this space. Romilly vowed to help Archer create a special room of his own if he so wished for one.
But first, they had to talk.
“Little one,” Romilly called out from where he stood.
Archer’s head whipped up, eyes wide. The smile that came next only made Romilly all the more certain he needed to betruthful. He wanted to see that expression on his mate’s face for decades to come. Centuries if they were lucky enough.
“Come with me. I want to show you something.” Romilly extended his hand, urging his boy to come forward. Archer moved to him without hesitation, easily climbing into Romilly’s arms, his body used to being carried.
They left Eden’s room in an unhurried pace. While Romilly’s dragon paced restlessly inside him, the beast’s nerves on edge, his outward demeanor was controlled.
There was a place on the castle grounds most people didn't know about or had forgotten. It sat at the back of the property where the formal gardens gave way to the older part of the land. The trees there were enormous, understandable given they’d been standing for centuries. Their roots so deep into the earth that they had become part of it in every way.
Between two of the oldest of them, someone had long ago placed a bench of dark wood that had weathered to silver, and the ground around it was soft with moss and flowers that only ever grew in this one spot.
