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“He’s resistant to my charm.” Flint bats his lashes at me. “Am I not pretty enough?”
“You know you are.” Flint’s glamour ensures he’s the prettiest one in the room wherever he goes. I reach over to pat his arm. “Maybe Hopper is part fae and immune to your charm.”
Despite the long day and the fear of discovering Darius and Pen trapped underground, warmth spreads through me at this moment of normalcy. Everything’s been so tense at work, and life at home has settled into an uneasy truce as we all struggle to figure out how Darius in a corporeal body fits into our lives and into the cabin, which seems smaller by the day.
Moments like this, where all the tension melts away, have become rare, and I treasure them, even if it meant venturing out into a storm for greasy stew.
The tap of rain pelting the windshield and the rapid sweep of the windshield wipers fill the comfortable silence as I turn onto the long road on the outskirts of Clearhelm that leads toward home.
“It wasn’t just for the stew,” Flint says, his serious tone breaking the silence. “It was also so Marc and Darius could have some alone time with Pen. We’ve been hogging her at night, and I thought they could use some time together.”
I glance at him in surprise. “That was thoughtful of you.”
Flint sighs, running a hand through his black hair, his fingers briefly tangling in the strands. “Things haven’t been right between me and Marc since Darius stepped out of his body, and I know a lot of that is my fault. Darius is just so cozy with Marc. It’s like they have their own language that the rest of us don’t understand.”
He thumps his head against the seat. “Am Ijealous? Is that what this feeling is? I don’t want Marc to have someone he’s closer to than me? Am Ithatinsecure?”
I’d say yes to all of the above, but I don’t think Flint wants a response. He already knows the answer, and just needs to work through it out loud.
“Gods, I’m petty.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “Logically, I know they share a special bond and have for a long time. How could they not when cohabitating inside Marc’s body? But he never talked about it with us.”
Flint rolls his head toward me, opening his eyes, and I nod without comment.
He lets out a frustrated huff and stares out the windshield. “But now that Darius has a body of his own,seeingthat bond just seems sosudden. Like it happened overnight. And I need to get over it before I permanently damage my relationship with Marc, but I’m struggling to move past my history with Darius.”
I reach out and place a hand on Flint’s arm. “You don’t have to be perfect. We all have our flaws and insecurities. It’s how we work through them that matters, and you’re taking steps to change.”
“Do I have to cuddle with Darius?” he whines.
I squeeze his arm before returning my hand to the wheel. “No, but if Marc wants to cuddle with him, then you need to be okay with it.”
“They’re sharing a body at night.” Flint looks at me. “Did you know?”
I meet his eyes. “Does it matter?”
“What if he runs away with Marc again?” The fear that underscores those words cuts to the heart of the matter.
Flint isn’t afraid of Marc and Darius being close. He’s afraid that Darius will take Marc from him the way he did a few months ago.
“Darius was living inside Marc to avoid being found by the demon court, right?” I wait for Flint’s nod. “And the reason he can now have a corporeal body is because he’s been absolved of oath breaking, right?”
Flint shifts in his seat. “Yeah.”
“So Darius has no need to run off in Marc’s body,” I say gently. “If he wants to leave, he can do it with his own two legs.”
“You’re right. Iknowyou are. It’s just…”
“Sometimes it takes your heart longer to accept what logic tells you.” I turn onto our gravel road and slow down, worried about what the rain has done to our access road. “And you should talk to Marc. If he knowswhyyou distrust Darius, it will help him understand the distance you’ve been putting between you.”
Flint stiffens. “I’m not the only one putting distance between us. They hole up in his room alone every night.”
“They’d probably stop doing that if they knew everyone in the house was okay with what’s going on,” I point out.
Flint’s shoulders slump. “You’re right, and I’ll try. You may not remember this, but I’m not actually good at talking about my feelings.”
“I don’t need my old memories to know that.” I slow at the gate that blocks our driveway and press the button on my visor to open it. “You don’t have to change overnight. Just take that first step. And I’ll be there for cuddles if Marc isn’t.”
He laughs. “Careful, Sharpe, or I’ll start clinging to you like glue. I’m a bit touch-starved.”
