Page 79 of Storm and Sea

“Hey, wanna go try the darts? I bet you’d be good at⁠—”

Leofel stopped mid-sentence as two burly men approached. They stood out from the crowd, seeming to part the tide of bodies without effort. People cast worried glances over their shoulders, hurrying away.

“You know what, I’ll meet you at the darts in an hour,” Leofel said, his charming tenor going serious.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, trying to be casual, but Nyel saw the increasing worry in his yellow eyes. “I’ll meet you there.”

Before Nyel could say anything else, Leofel met the two men a few yards away. The music was too loud for Nyel to catch what they were saying, and a moment later, Leofel was herded away from the square—one man leading, the other pushing at his back. The interaction left Nyel uneasy as he stood alone, palms sweating, unsure of what to do.

Leofel had it handled. Nyel had no right to interfere in his business and would likely just get in the way. There was still so much he didn’t know about humans. But there was a non-human he could help.

Nyel didn’t hesitate this time. His gut told him to go after Atreus. Worst-case scenario, he’d tell Nyel to go away.

It took him less than a minute to lock onto Atreus’s scent. It was distinct among the human scents of earth and oil. It was alive with shifting winds carrying the musky tang of rain. There was a wildness there, an untouchable vastness, like the charge of an open sky before a crack of thunder. The scent clung to Atreus as if he’d just stepped from the swirling torrent—raw, brooding, and ominous. Nyel couldn’t help but breathe deeper, the sensation both rejuvenating and suffused.

He zigzagged through the alleys until he reached the beach, where discarded shoes lay scattered and footprints etched a path in the sand. Nyel kicked off his own shoes, but a distant yell cut through the ocean’s steady song of waves and foam, making him freeze.

Heart pounding, he dashed forward, following the sound until he spotted a lone figure kneeling in the sand. Atreus’s shoulders trembled, his head bowed as fingers tore through his gorgeous curls, yanking hard enough to make Nyel flinch at the sight. Crumpled and unmoving, Atreus looked as though the weight of the world had driven him to his knees.

“Atreus?” Nyel called, quickening his pace, alarmed.

The sound of his name startled Atreus, snapping him out of whatever episode he’d been experiencing. He stood abruptly, swaying as if dizzy. As Nyel cautiously approached, Atreus stiffened but didn’t turn. Nyel shivered, rubbing his arms up and down as he stood beside him. The air turned frigid this close to the sea, and he wished he’d brought a jacket.

“Atreus… what’s going on? You’ve been off since yesterday.”

Atreus said nothing, but Nyel knew he’d heard as he watched the muscles in his jaw flex.

“Please. Just talk to me.”

So many moments passed that Nyel was convinced Atreus would continue ignoring him. But when he spoke, it sounded like a dam breaking, his voice spilling with pent-up frustration.

“How would you know if I’m off? You barely know me. We’re practically strangers.” The words were spoken softly but sent a biting cold through Nyel’s chest.

“I… I just…” Nyel sighed. “I thought I did. Sorry.”

Atreus let out a ragged sigh of his own. “Don’t be. I haven’t made it easy.”

“No. You haven’t.”

A pause.

“I don’t know how,” Atreus confessed, tilting his head to the sky in self-deprecation.

That wasn’t true. Atreus could be open; Nyel had seen glimpses of it. Moments so rare they burrowed into Nyel’s brain like drops of water carving their way into stone. A flash of mirth as they laughed at the fountain, the flush of cheeks as Marina accosted him with a pillow, the half-hidden grin as Giovanni complimented his work. It was there. But Atreus held himself back, damning up his feelings like they were something shameful and unsightly. He built a wall around himself, shutting out everyone—just as he had with Leofel, Marina, and Giovanni.

And now me.

“I think you’re scared.”

At this, Atreus rounded on him, his shoulders stiff and his fists clenched.

“Can you blame me? I risk my life every time I step on this island. Every time I work at the docks. I’m risking everything constantly.” The exhaustion in his voice sounded like a rope pulled taut for too long, fraying and ready to snap.

“You don’t have to.” Nyel steeled himself. If they were going to talk about this, then he would say everything on his mind. He faced Atreus, looking into those intense eyes. “These humans care about you whether you want to admit it or not. Marina adores you like an older brother, Leofel looks up to you, and Giovanni pretty much considers you a son.”

Nyel might as well have slapped Atreus in the face for the appalled expression he now wore.