Page 40 of Heimlock

Grabbing the flowers I’ve bought for Orliana and Talia, I stuff them into my backpack and walk outside. Shifting, I carefully grab the backpack between my talons and take off for their home. Orliana has essentially already moved in. For as much reluctance both of them showed for weeks, they’re now eagerly catapulting themselves into the future.

I envy them. Don’t get me wrong — I’m extremely happy for them. I manipulated every possible scenario to make it happen, because they were willfully blind for most of it. The moment I met Orliana and saw the way my brother watched her, I knew it was worth a try. My gamble paid off.

A small, quiet part of me has always envied Fynn for the love he’s found in life. Rhuth was a phenomenal woman, with a heart of gold and the spirit of a summer breeze. Their marriage was a good one.

Orliana isn’t much different. Fynn, in all of his strength, deserves kind, soft women.

I don’t know what kind of woman I deserve, but I doubt it’s a soft one.

Would Kyrielle be insulted to be called soft? I think of the Fire Sprite in all ‌the scenarios I’ve seen her in. Three months ago, I quietly stood in the back of the arena and watched her leap onto the back of a grown Cyclops to choke him out with her thighs. My cock was hard for a week after that.

Then there’s the way she stormed into my apartment, cleaning while delivering threats and insults.

Women from the battle gym speak of the way she’s gone head-to-head with their abusers, literally burning her way to a successful extraction. Recently, according to Richor, she all but clipped the wings of an abusive Seraphim. No, she couldn’t be mistaken for soft.

A little part of me is terrified of her.

But she can be hurt. My continuous taunting eventually made her snap. I nearly got a paper cut on my chin from the way she slammed the mail into my body. When I all but refused to speak to her at the battle gym, the wounded expression on her pale face haunted me for days.

Something tells me Kyrielle isn’t soft — she’s a forged material all of her own.

And I’m clearly not impervious to whatever it is.

Landing in front of Fynn and Orliana’s home, I shift. Shaking off the thoughts of Kyrielle, I grab the backpack and saunter up the pathway. Without knocking, I open the door.

Immediately, I’m struck with the energetic difference of it all. Fynn has never been one to create a depression sty — not like me — but his grief certainly had a vibe that all fifty-something plants couldn’t stave off.

This home is different now. Soft music plays, and Joulian laughs from somewhere. My heart immediately grows at the sound. He’s a good kid; spunky with that adolescent tongue, but good nevertheless.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Trinte!” Joulian hurtles out of the kitchen. If there’s one major benefit to having Orliana in our lives, it’s finally having a nephew. I grin, opening my arms. When he launches into my chest, I pick him up. Still scrawny, he basically weighs nothing.

“Hey buddy! How’s it going?” Depositing him back on the ground, I peer down at him. “Have you been putting Fynn through his paces?”

The boy, with bright blue eyes and golden skin, cocks his head. “Paces?”

I brace against my knees to whisper, “It’s actually required to test him, to make sure he’ll make a good dad.”

Joulian lowers his voice. “How do I do that?”

I make a piss-poor attempt at looking innocent. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Don’t tell anyone I mentioned it, okay?”

Joulian gives me a serious look. “Okay, I won’t. But do you have any tips?”

“I can literally hear you,” Fynn growls from the kitchen.

Joulian and I share a grin. Ruffling his dark hair, I smile. “Busted.”

Throwing an arm over his shoulders, I guide him to the kitchen.

Fynn and Orliana bustle around the kitchen, cooking dinner. Talia sits on a stool, reading something on her phone. When I enter the room, she looks up, beaming.

“Trinte!” She wraps me in a warm hug. Indulging in the comforting touch, I inhale her warm scent of cinnamon.

Since the moment I met her, I’ve been defenseless against Talia’s mothering. It’s almost assuredly because I’ve always wanted one, and she clearly adopts anyone willing to be mothered. It took less than five minutes for me to cave from the moment we met at headquarters all those weeks ago. She came to pick up Joulian, took one look at me, and demanded I join them for dinner. It was impossible to say no.

Mainly because I didn’t want to.