Chapter 12 #2
I lose it. A full, unrestrained laugh that pulls at the knot in my arse, but I don’t even care. “You were a playground.”
“They found it enjoyable.”
“I’m sure they did,” I say, grinning at him, wondering if many Nyxerians were jealous about that. “Did you at least make it difficult, or were you just letting them win?”
“I adjusted resistance based on their development,” he replies.
“Of course you did,” I say through a big smile. “God forbid the giant, growly cupid doesn’t maintain proper training protocols during playtime.”
There’s that rumble again, softer this time. “You are amused.”
“Yeah,” I admit, my grin lingering as I look at him. “Yeah, I am.”
The image takes shape in my head—Varek, younger, surrounded by kids climbing all over him like he’s some kind of living jungle gym—and all the emotion I store away for Varek in my chest blooms.
Because it all fits, the different versions of him that I’m discovering, more than I expected it to.
“You’re good with people,” I say after a moment, quieter now.
His gaze holds mine. “I am… patient,” he replies.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “That too.”
Silence stretches again, but it’s easy now and so comfortable, I could easily stay this way forever—wrapped in his arms, listening to his deep rumble as he tells me stories. The big knot locking me to him is simply an added incentive.
The bond hums low and steady between us, no longer overwhelming, just… there. The certainty of it fills my soul in a way I’m struggling to comprehend, so I don’t question it. I shift slightly closer without thinking, my hand coming up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm beneath it.
“Don’t move,” I mumble. “This right here… is perfect.”
“I will not,” he says, angling down and pressing a soft kiss on the top of my head.
And I believe him without question as we stay this way, connected, breathing in sync, with the world narrowed down to just this space between us.
“You know, you’re very different from when I first met you.”
I peer over at Sonny as he sips at his weird, toxic-smelling version of moonshine. “What, because I’ve not punched Varek?” While my tone is light, my gut twists because I hate that I did that.
The shit history I have with violence warped me in ways I don’t think I’ll ever get over, but actually striking Varek is something I regret. Something I’ve apologised for. You don’t hit people you love. Period. You don’t hit any—
My heart stutters.
The fuck?
Love?
“Well, I suppose, yes, that,” Sonny continues, completely unaware that my brain has just derailed spectacularly. “But also… this.” He gestures vaguely at me with the hand not holding the drink. “You’re… lighter.”
I let out a breath, dragging my attention back from wherever the hell it just went. “Lighter,” I repeat.
“Yeah,” he says, taking another sip and immediately making a face. “Less like you’re about to bite someone’s head off.”
“That’s still on the table,” I mutter.
“Sure,” he says easily. “But now it feels like a choice instead of your default setting.”
That sinks in.
I don’t answer straight away. Instead, I look out across the stretch of land in front of us.
We’re tucked into one of the quieter outer edges of Dathanor, where the structures thin out and the strange, glowing flora gives way to something that almost looks like scrubland.
Almost Earthlike, if you squint and ignore the sky.
The air’s warm, and it’s peaceful in a way that doesn’t feel fake.
“I used to be like this,” I say eventually.
Sonny goes quiet beside me.
“Before everything,” I add.
“Back home?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I shift my weight, leaning back on my hands, letting my legs stretch out in front of me. “Growing up in Melbourne, I was… loud. A smartarse. Always had something to say.”
Sonny snorts. “Shocking.”
“Yeah, I know. Hard to believe.”
A small smile pulls at my mouth, but it fades a little as I keep going.
“Even when I moved to WA, it didn’t change straight away. Different place, sure, but I was still me. Still… open, I guess.” I pick at a loose thread on my pants, more for something to do than anything else. “Then I started working in the mines.”
Sonny doesn’t interrupt.
“You hear shit every day,” I continue. “Racist crap. Homophobic crap. Said like it’s normal. Like it’s just part of the air out there.” I huff a breath. “And maybe it is.”
He flexes his jaw, but he stays quiet.
“You learn pretty quick what’s safe to say and what’s not,” I go on. “What parts of you are acceptable. What parts you bury so you don’t become the next target.” I shrug one shoulder. “So I buried them.”
There’s no drama in the words. No exaggeration.
Just fact.
“Didn’t even feel like a big decision at the time. Just… survival.”
Sonny nods once. “Yeah.”
“Then I met Thomas.”
The name sits there. Heavy, but not as pained as it used to be.
“He was the same,” I say. “Closeted. Careful. We got each other in a way no one else did.”
“That must’ve been….” Sonny trails off.
“Good,” I finish for him. “It was good.”
And it was… for a while.
“That’s the part that makes it messy,” I add quietly. “It wasn’t always bad.”
Sonny glances at me, his expression steady. “It usually isn’t.”
I nod once. “Yeah.” The silence stretches for a moment before I admit, “It stopped being good,” I say.
Sonny exhales slowly, like he’s choosing his next words carefully. “I know Varek… killed him,” he says, not looking directly at me. “That’s what you said when we first met.”
“Yeah.”
“That all of it?”
There’s no pressure in the question, just… space, if I want to use it.
I stare out at the horizon for a long second, weighing it up. Then I let out a quiet breath. “No,” I say.
Sonny doesn’t react outwardly. He doesn’t look surprised. Just… listens.
“It wasn’t always bad,” I repeat. “But when it turned… it turned properly.” I swallow and rub my hand over my nape.
“He drank. A lot. Hid it well at first. Then stopped hiding it.” I rub a hand over my chest absently.
“Out there, no one cared. No neighbours close enough to hear anything. No one asking questions.”
The words come out steady, but there’s weight behind them.
“And I’d already spent years learning to keep my head down. Not make waves. Not draw attention.”
Sonny’s expression shifts, softer now. “Yeah.”
“So I stayed,” I finish.
For a moment, neither of us speaks. Then Sonny nudges his shoulder lightly against mine. “Hey,” he says, voice quieter now. “That’s not on you.”
I huff a breath. “Yeah, I know that. Doesn’t mean I believe it all the time.”
“Fair,” he says.
We sit with that for a bit. Then he tilts his head slightly, looking at me again. “So this—” He gestures vaguely at me again. “This version of you—it isn’t new?”
“No,” I say. “It’s… old. Or maybe just buried.”
“And now?”
I glance down at my hands, then back out towards the settlement. Towards where I can feel Varek. That steady, constant presence. “I think I’m just… not burying it anymore,” I say.
Sonny studies me for a second, then grins slightly. “Took getting dragged into another dimension to figure that out.”
I snort. “Bit extreme, yeah.”
“Could’ve just gone to therapy,” he adds.
“Don’t ruin it.”
He laughs, then sobers a little. “And him?” Sonny asks carefully. “Varek.”
I don’t hesitate. “Yeah,” I say.
The answer comes easy. Too easy to question.
“I’m… good with him,” I add, a little quieter.
Sonny watches me for a second, then nods. “Good,” he says simply.
I lean back again, letting the quiet settle around us. The air’s warm. The world feels… steady. And inside my chest, that word pulsates again.
Love.
This time, I don’t shove it away. I don’t panic. Instead, I sit with it, knowing without too much effort that it doesn’t feel wrong.
Bloody hell.
That thought alone should probably send me into a spiral, but instead it just… stays. Which is almost worse. Because now I actually have to deal with it.
This is something I should tell Varek, right?
The idea makes my stomach flip—not in a bad way, but in that unfamiliar, exposed kind of way that comes with saying things out loud that actually matter.
And then there’s the other problem. Does Varek even know what that means?
He understands bonds. Fated mates. Instinct. Biology. All the things his world built into him from the start.
But love?
That’s… different. Isn’t it? Or maybe it’s not. Maybe I’m just complicating the hell out of something that doesn’t need it.
“Do you need to use the shitter or something?”
Sonny’s voice cuts straight through my spiralling thoughts. I blink, dragging my focus back to him.
He aims a big grin my way as he gestures vaguely at my face, drawing a circle in the air. “I mean, you’re either constipated, about to bolt for the nearest toilet, or your brain’s doing laps again.”
I roll my eyes, grateful for the interruption. “No, I don’t need the loo.”
Sonny snorts. “There it is.”
“What?”
“Loo. That accent,” he says, pointing at me like he’s just proven a theory. “Comes out when you’re being snipey or distracted.”
My lips twitch despite myself. “Yeah, well. It’s still in there somewhere. Hard to shake completely.”
“Good,” he says. “Adds flavour.”
“Glad I can entertain.”
“You do,” he replies easily, then squints at me again. “So which is it?”
“Which is what?”
“Constipation or existential crisis?”
I hesitate. Then I sigh, scrubbing a hand over my face.
I’ve been bonded for a lot longer that Sonny—or at least met my fated mate when Sonny would have still been a teenager.
Add in that he’s a fair bit younger than I am, I feel a bit of a clueless dick for even considering sharing this with him.
Fuck it. “All right, fine. It’s the second one. ”
“Called it,” he mutters, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Hit me.”
I glance at him sideways, then back out at the open stretch in front of us. “Fated mates,” I say slowly. “That’s… a thing in this world. Well. Kael’s world. Varek’s world. Now our world.”
“Yep.”