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“I just—”
Saint whirled, blocking Octavius’s path. “They don’t deserveyou,” he blurted. “They tossed you out like trash. You don’t need them.” He breathed hard, but then, with a sigh, he turned back around and started walking again. “You’re better than them.”
Where was this coming from? Saint didn’t know him. They’d been thrown together for a few days, survived a few close calls with Mikalis. He couldn’tknowOctavius. Why did he care? “I need them,” Octavius admitted. “Without them, I’m just… a ghost.” He feared it might be worse than that now. Without them, he was nyk, and even knowing nyks weren’t all that different, he couldn’t undo a few thousand years of indoctrination overnight.
“No.” Saint spun on his heel, marched up to Octavius, and stopped, chest to chest. “You’re a ghost because you’ve carved yourself out of the world, because your past is fucked up and it hurts. I don’t need to know the details, I read it in everything you do. You desperately want their approval, but you push them away. They can’t save you, only you can save you. You don’t need them. You have me, you have Jay. We’re your Brotherhood, if you’d have us.”
The words landed hard. What did he mean, hehadthem? “What?”
Saint’s expression turned stern, even vicious. “Forget them, come to the end of the world with me.”
This was ridiculous. Saint didn’t want him. This was a trick of some kind. “What are you talking about? Raiden is about to destroy them. They’re clearly not prepared. They need me. Why are you trying to turn me against them?”
“The Brotherhood doesn’t give a shit about you. If I hadn’t gotten to you, Zaine would have pumped you full of venom, and you’d be dust.”
“Fuck you, no. They just… They just need to look at things differently, that’s all.”
“They’ve had thousands of years to see things differently. They’re never changing, Octavius. Not while Mikalis is their leader. But sure, go on your knees and beg their forgiveness, Little Wolf. Maybe they’ll take you in, and perhaps they won’t turn on you later for another petty reason because Mikalis deems it.”
Why was he saying these things now? They had a plan, it was working. They had Zaine, and he would see how Raiden was the traitor. “You’re wrong. They’re good. Deep down. They’ll stop Raiden, they’ll take us back.”
Saint snarled a laugh. “And you’re deluded.” He turned, threw up a hand, and walked off. “Have a nice rest of your life trying to win Mikalis’s approval. Good luck with that.”
This wasn’t about Octavius. This was about Saint, and what the Brotherhood had done to him. WhatMikalishad done to him. “He’ll come around, he’ll see you again. I’m sure of it.”
Saint stopped on the trail. His shoulders slouched.
Octavius made his way up behind him. “I know he hurt you.”
“This isn’t about me. This is about you not seeing your true worth, Octavius, and trust me, it’s not as a Brotherhood puppet.” He lifted his gaze, and in the lingering darkness beneath the trees, his nyk eyes shone.
His words did strange things to Octavius’s insides, made them squirm with unease and guilt. He wasn’t even sure why. Perhaps because he didn’t deserve such kindness, or the way Saint glared at him now, as though in awe. As though—
Saint’s hands bracketed his face, and before he could pull back, his soft lips pushed against Octavius’s. He hadn’t expected it. Was it an attack? Octavius shoved him off and gasped. He tasted Saint on his lips, blood too, but mostly Saint’s sharp bitterness.
Wait, was that a… was that a kiss?
Saint stared, breathing hard.
“Why did you do that?” Octavius touched the tingling on his lips, uncertain whether it had been an attack or a trick or something else.
“You know why.”
He didn’t understand.
Saint took a step closer—now so close that simmering heat radiated off him and into Octavius. They didn’t touch, not yet, but he was certain it was coming, and he had no idea if he wanted that, or to lash out and push him back. His mind had fallen quiet, and his body burned, his gut clenching with a strange new sensation.
Octavius studied the ancient nyk with the shining eyes, savage fangs gleaming in the early morning light. Saint gazed back at him now, all soft and strange, with no trace of anger. Nobody looked at Octavius like that. Ever.
Saint’s firm fingers caught his chin, lifted his head, and this time, when their lips met, the kiss was gentle, like a soft query, asking permission.
Octavius’s heart pounded, his body came alive, every thought funneled to how that kiss felt, how warm it was, and how he needed it. He parted his lips, kissed him back, deepening their touch. Then Saint’s tongue sought more of him, and the kiss hardened with hunger. Other parts of Octavius hardened too, as though his body no longer listened to reason and did as it pleased.
He wanted this. He wanted it so much that desire overwhelmed all the reasons not to want this.
He was kissing Saint. He washardfor Saint. He wanted to touch more of him, to explore him, wanted to feel him close. This hunger was new, but just as powerful as the thirst for blood. And by Nyx, he wanted that too. Wanted to thrust his fangs in andtake.
But this was Saint. The Big Bad Wolf. Mikalis’screation.
