Chapter 7
Corvus
The dense odor of hot chocolate will forever remind me of this humiliating day.
Members of my family are occupying all the various armchairs and couches crowding the drawing room.
The Christmas decorations transform the already opulent space into a fantasy of the perfect holiday from a century ago.
Too bad I’ve been gifted a piece of coal in the shape of Aspen’s smartphone.
The kid is hiding behind his parents now, unusually quiet as he feeds on his second mug of chocolate. Oh, he should be worried, because I am a very, very patient man.
My other gift kneels under the huge Christmas tree, clad in a Santa-themed tracksuit that’s way too small on him.
The stretched fabric reveals thick, hairy forearms and calves, and—worst of all—the meat of Dalton’s tattooed stomach.
At least he’s not wet and shivering anymore, which I shouldn’t care about, yet here we are.
I keep my distance, even though he tries to capture my gaze, because birds of prey are all around us, and if I show weakness, they will rip us both apart.
It is fortunate that Damen not only wrapped Dalton with rope but also gagged him. This way, he won’t undermine my efforts to save what remains of my dignity. Considering most people present saw me on my knees, sucking a huge dick like it was a lollipop, it’s going to be a struggle.
Mother wails between her sobs, and when Collin, our butler, offers her a mug of chocolate, I hear her plead with him for a “splash of brandy” in her hot beverage.
Usually, our roles are reversed, and it’s me being embarrassed of her, like that time when she started shoplifting for kicks, and I had to pick her up from the police station in my Aston Martin. But there’s no sweeping my transgression under the rug.
Uncle Karl, the current head of the family, glares at me in a way that’s a perfect match for the expression of great-great-grandfather Charles in the painting behind him.
With his dashing silver fox hair, tall form, and an air of natural superiority, he looks a bit like an older version of his son Damen.
He finishes his hot chocolate in a single swig, as if he’s taking shots at some shoddy bar, and I open my mouth as he places the mug back on the saucer.
Collin chooses this moment to offer the chocolate to me, and I wave him off, barely keeping myself from growling.
Why not put on a record with Christmas carols while we’re at it?
“You’re really trying to tell me this is your fiance?
” Uncle Karl finally breaks through the chatter, pointing to Dalton in a wide gesture straight out of theater.
“Do all gay men need drama so much that you have to ruin Christmas?” he asks, but glares at his son.
Damen rolls his eyes and entwines his fingers with Killian, who knows better than to speak up.
I should have expected this question, but nothing could prepare me for having to answer it while surrounded by vultures who call themselves my family.
This was exactly what I wanted to avoid when I stole Dalton from the hunting grounds.
Every single person in this room wants to know everything about what doesn’t concern them.
My sexuality is none of their business. I am not like Damen to advertise it for thrills.
If I were one of them, I’d be searching for any weakness to pick on, but while I would always choose my own peace of mind over a hot stud I only met yesterday, I’ve already called him mine, and going back on my word would make me even more laughable than I already am.
A sense of deep humiliation crawls up my throat like bile whenever I remember how Aspen captured me giving Dalton a blowjob. Admitting I lost my mind for a dick I met just last night just wouldn't do, so fiancé it is, despite my stomach twisting every time I consider the implications.
My limbs feel like ice, but I make this stiffness seem deliberate as I glare at him and pull out a cigarette to do something with my hands.
“Why? Are you implicating there is something wrong with my choice of man?” I challenge, but as I sweep over Dalton with my gaze, I know there is so much wrong.
What will I do with him now that I’ve claimed him?
But Uncle Karl will have to spell out his issues if he wants to challenge me. If I’m forced to be uncomfortable, so can he.
“This is ludicrous! You know exactly what’s wrong with him.” He throws his arms up, and spills the few droplets of hot chocolate he had left in his cup on his wife’s white dress.
I smirk, because Juliana Van der Horn won’t be having that.
“Karl! Would you watch it! Do you always have to stand in the way of love?” She scowls at him as she grabs a napkin that won’t help with brown spots.
Aspen peeks out from behind his father, Uncle Roger, who wouldn’t swap his favorite white Stetson for any other hat even on Christmas day. He’s out of his tactical gear and now sports a flashy pair of Gucci pants and an open hoodie in matching colors and a blinging G on the zipper.
“Could we not gift Corvus the guy for Christmas? He seems to need that. Look, he’s already under the tree?” Aspen tries with a smile, and grabs some red ribbon off one of the branches. “There.” He ties a bow on Dalton’s arm.
Dalton mutters something through the gag and gives me a pleading look, soon mimicked by Aspen. Stupid boy. He knows he’s crossed a line back at the cabin, and he’s trying to crawl back into my good graces like a brand-name-covered worm.
Pathetic.
“Seems like I really need that? What does that mean?” I snap, narrowing my eyes, even though I know exactly what kind of idea is at the root of that statement.
We have all at times stated someone was ‘in need of a good fuck’.
Considering the irrationality of my actions, perhaps Aspen’s right, but I’d rather bleed out on the expensive carpet than admit that.
Aspen opens his mouth but Uncle Karl stops him from digging his own grave.
“What I need is the money this piece of shit owes us!” He points at Dalton who hangs his head in shame. “It’s not just that he borrowed more than he was capable of paying off, but then tried to leave town!”
Fuck.
Goddamn it.
“He wanted to reach me,” I lie, looking straight into Uncle Karl’s eyes. “A mistake on his part, but I am ready to clear his debt. He’s not an enemy of this family. He simply panicked,” I say that so firmly for a moment I almost believe it myself.
He stalls, and it seems everyone in the room is holding their breath, including my teary-eyed mother.
“You will pay all of it? With several days interest?” Because of course he’s that petty. I stiffen, because even for me it’s not pocket change. And yet, are Dalton’s dick and my dignity worthy of such a high price tag?
Yes.
Aunt Juliana slaps his arm. “Karl! Stop it with the interest!”
He grumbles. “Well, he should pay all of it if he’s taking it on.” But then he turns to me again. “I still need to know what you were thinking was going to happen after you stole him from the hunt? He was our prisoner!”
“I figured I would just take him away. It’s not like he killed anyone. It’s just debt. He’s only here because you wanted more prey.”
Uncle Karl waves his arms around. “It would have come up if he’s your fiancé! What were you planning? To keep him in the basement for the rest of his life?”
I stall, annoyed I haven’t thought it through, but they don’t need to know. But keeping Dalton under lock and key would solve all my issues. He’d get to live in comfort, I’d get to have him, and the people who should never find out about my secrets wouldn’t be privy to any of that.
It’s bad enough that my family now has dirt on me. I hate it when my head refuses to provide me with a suitably evasive answer, but this time my mother comes to my aid with a tearful sob.
“I thought we tell each other everything,” she whimpers, hugging the empty mug to her chest. I really don’t want to argue, or throw the truth in her face at a public gathering like this one, but no, I definitely don’t tell her everything.
“I said I’ll pay, and what I do with him is none of anyone’s business. Are we done here?” I snap and to make my point, approach Dalton. I pull out his gag, and grab my knife to cut the rope, because I’m not asking Damen for help with the elaborate knots he decided on.
Dalton sighs in relief. “Thanks, I was cramping up a little.”
Damen shakes his head, watching us with a smug smile. “It would have been fine if you told us. There was no need for this circus.”
“I am holding a very sharp knife, you know.” I squint at him as Dalton stands up.
Those tight red sweat pants leave nothing to the imagination.
I bet everyone here is judging us. Judging me.
They will make assumptions, and the next time we meet, I will have to fight off lewd gay jokes about the size of my ‘fiancé’s’ equipment.
My life would be so much fucking easier if I didn’t crave the things I do… I guess this is my punishment for losing control.
“Merry fucking Christmas everyone. We won’t be staying,” I say coolly as my mother sobs again. I’m usually more moved by her tears, but she’ll be fine. “Collin, please make the travel arrangements.”
I’m about to turn to the door when… Dalton hugs me. And gives me a kiss on the cheek. In front of everyone. I’m stiff as dried-up fruit cake, but this is good. This makes our ruse more realistic and easier to swallow. I slide my arm to the back of his waist. It feels… good to touch him again.
But without further ado, I slip out of the hug after a moment and head for the door. When I snap my fingers, Dalton follows.
“Make sure to pay tonight, or I will add another day of interest!” Uncle Karl yells as if the few thousand would make a difference at this point.
What a bitter old man.
Now I just need to establish the rules with Dalton, so he knows his place. Then everything will be fine.