10. Diablos #3
I shrugged, trying way too hard to look unfazed. The last thing I wanted was for my brothers to get a good read of me and worry even more.
“You didn’t know what that-” Dagon cut himself off with a low growl. “You didn’t know what King would do. He forced this bond on you without warning.”
Dagon was as furious as the others, and that shocked me, honestly. He was usually angry at me, not for me. He hadn't been on my side in a long time. A familiar ache settled somewhere deep, but then again, it had never really left, had it? Somewhere along the years, I had just learned to carry it.
I cleared my throat before speaking again. “It doesn’t matter. What is done is done.”
“Like hell it is,” Andras said, downing his whiskey in one swallow. “He can’t do this to us just because he adopted us. We’re not his property. We’re not-”
“Just because you’re adopted doesn’t mean we’re not a family! We are all brothers!” Luc cut him off.
“Damn it. Yes, we are, Luc.” Andras said, his voice dropping.
I noticed Bren avoiding everyone’s eyes while Andras was trying to mitigate the damage his words caused. I understood what he meant. He wasn’t implying we’re not a family, far from it. Andras wouldn’t do that. But Luc had always been sensitive about the topic of family.
Still, it was good having my brothers next to me. Knowing they had my back was reassuring, but I didn’t need them to protect me. I had survived seventeen years without them, after all.
As they talked, I drifted and looked out the window. There was a storm outside, and I couldn't help but think it was meant for me – a sign that this was only the beginning.
The cold, the night, the rain – none of it ever really left.
For a while, I had found shelter in a home where I had found a family.
But now it was time to leave… to step back into the heart of the storm.
A place I always found myself in. A place with no exits.
At least I knew how to fight demons. Maybe not the kind our father had spoken about, but demons, nonetheless.
No matter from how many angles I looked at it, I truly didn't have another choice. And honestly? There's no point in avoiding the inevitable.
“I’m going to do as King said.” I said it quietly. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
All eyes snapped to me. Everyone started speaking at once, all except Dagon.
He just looked at me. Long and hard. Then he said, “I’m going with you.”
The room fell silent. I turned to him, and I didn't like what I saw in his eyes. Everything about Dagon's posture said stay back. He was as closed off and unreadable as ever.
“No one is going anywhere.” Wilder and Andras said together.
“I don’t need anyone to come with me. I’m not a child, and this isn’t about Dad. I'm going because we don't know what could happen if this object ends up in the wrong hands. Besides, I don't want to spend the rest of my life feeling like something's been carved out of me."
“And you believe everything King said?” Dagon asked.
I turned to him and answered honestly. "No. I don't believe half of it, because at least one part was a lie, and I can't verify the rest."
Dagon looked momentarily surprised, but quickly recovered.
“What was the lie?” Andras asked.
I turned to Andras. “You didn’t pick up on it?”
“If I had, would I be asking?” he snapped, irritated.
"'Because you're my sons,'" I repeated King's exact words. "When we asked why he needed us specifically, he answered that he couldn't trust anyone else, only us. Because we were his sons."
The first one to speak was Bren. "Why do you think that's a lie?"
"I said I don't know that it's a lie," I clarified. "I'm saying I'm not trusting his words blindly. But it doesn't change anything… I'm bound to this object, and I am going to find it."
“What if you get hurt?” Luc’s question hit like a knife, not because of what it asked, but because of the worry behind it.
“Don’t worry, little brother, I can take care of myself.”
“That’s why I’m going with you,” Dagon said.
“Since when did we become best brothers, Dagon? Since when did we become close enough for that? I must have missed that chapter of our lives."
I couldn't stop the edge bleeding into my voice. He was the last person I had thought would choose to come with me.
“Take it or take it. There’s no other choice. I’m going with you. End of discussion. Be ready at 7 a.m.”
He looked around the room and stormed out. Just like that.
“I want to come too. There is no way I’m leaving you alone with Dagon.”
“Wilder, you have your job and you'll probably want to look after everyone here. You’re staying. Nobody else is coming with me. Honestly, I don’t even want Dagon there.”
A quiet part of me knew that was a lie. I could do this alone. I knew better than most what it was like to fight by myself. But the truth was I wanted him next to me.
A small voice reminded me of how things had once been between us, and hope flickered inside, fragile and stubborn. Hope I had slowly, painfully smothered over the years. But apparently it was still alive, just barely.
Could I have it all back?
Could I have him back?
Just maybe… could we find our way to what we used to be?