I’m aware. #2
Renan is silent for a moment. "Huh."
"Don't."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were about to."
"I was going to say 'huh' again, but with more implications."
We reach Discord headquarters. The guards step aside. Up the stairs. Through the door to my private rooms.
It closes behind us.
Renan leans against the wall and watches me go to my desk. Reports are stacked there—intelligence summaries, threat assessments..
I sit down. Pick up the first report.
Coin's trade routes through the northern passage have shown increased activity—
I set it down. Pick up another.
War's delegation has been observed meeting with representatives from—
Set that one down too. My eyes keep sliding off the words. The pressure in my chest is worse now, this physical weight that makes it hard to breathe, and my cock won't stop responding to the memory of her face, her voice, the way she bled and didn't break.
"So we're not going to work," Renan says. "We're going to sit here and think about her."
"I'm not—"
"You've picked up three reports. You haven't turned a single page."
I look down. He's right. The third report is in my hands and I don't remember reaching for it.
"Fuck." The word comes out rough. I shove back from the desk and stand.
"There it is." Renan doesn't move from the wall. "You want to tell me what's happening, or should I guess?"
"Nothing's happening."
"Bullshit."
"It's—"
"Bullshit." He pushes off the wall. "You've been doing this job for centuries. You don't beat men half to death in Concord sessions over nothing. You don't get hard in the middle of formal proceedings over nothing."
"Renan."
"You don't remember some random mortal's name and track her direction through the city over nothing."
I don't answer. I can't answer, because he's right.
I want her here. In this room. Where I can see her breathing, where I can make sure no one's touching her, where the pressure in my chest might finally ease.
The thought surfaces and I don't push it down. Can't. She should be here. Not in Coin's gilded cage, not being pawed at by their handlers. She should be—
"I want to know who's touching her right now," I hear myself say. "I want their names."
Renan's eyebrows go up. "So you can do what you did to Daiven? Because that was satisfying to watch, but the paperwork is going to be annoying."
"I don't care about paperwork."
"I know. That's why I do it."
My hands are shaking. I look at them with distant interest. They shouldn't be shaking. I'm a Titan. Older than most of them know. I've lived for millennia.
And a mortal woman with blood on her mouth is making my hands shake.
"Well." Renan's voice is strange. Almost amused. "This is new."
"I'm aware."
"No, I mean—this is new. I've known you for centuries. You've never—" He stops, recalibrates. "You really want to go after her."
"Yes."
"Tonight."
"Yes."
"Koshin." He's grinning now. "Coin's not going to hand her over because you want her. Especially after what you did to Daiven."
"Then Coin's going to have a problem."
"The Concord—"
"Fuck the Concord."
"I was going to say the Concord can eat my ass, but sure, your version works too." He crosses the room, drops into the chair across from my desk. "So what's stopping you? You want her. Go get her."
"It's not—" I stop. Start again. "I don't know what this is."
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Because I've never felt this before. Because the pull under my ribs is constant and wrong and terrifying. Because I can't think about anything except where she is and who's touching her and whether she's bleeding again.
Because my cock twitches every time I remember her face, and I've never wanted a mortal, never wanted anyone, and now I can't stop wanting.
"She was honest," I say finally. "Completely. Not performing, not pretending—just honest. And everyone else in that room was so full of shit I could taste it."
"So you want to fuck her because she doesn't play games."
I move before I think. One second I'm by the window, the next I've got Renan by the collar and I'm slamming him into the wall hard enough to crack the plaster. My knife is in my hand—don't remember drawing it—and the blade presses against his throat, dimpling the skin.
He doesn't flinch. Doesn't reach for his own weapon. Just looks at me with those calm gray eyes, waiting.
"Don't," I say. The word comes out low. Dangerous. "Don't talk about her like that."
Silence.
Renan's pulse beats steady against the blade. He's not afraid. He's never been afraid of me. But something in his expression shifts. Understanding.
"Okay," he says quietly. "Noted."
I hold him there for another second. Two. The knife steady against his throat, my hand fisted in his collar, and I can feel my own heartbeat pounding too fast.
I just pulled a knife on my only friend. Because he made a crude joke. The kind of joke we've made about a thousand people. The kind of joke I would have laughed at yesterday.
I let go and step back. The knife disappears back into my sleeve.
Renan straightens his collar. Touches his throat once, brief, checking for blood. There isn't any. I know how to hold a blade.
"That's new too," he says. His voice is different now. Not amused—thoughtful. Like he's seeing something he's never seen before and isn't sure what to make of it.
"I know."
"We talk like that. We've always talked like that."
"Not about her."
He studies me for a long moment. I watch him put pieces together—the Concord, Daiven, my reaction just now. The way something fundamental has shifted and neither of us knows what it means.
"Not about her," he repeats slowly. "Got it." He's quiet for a beat. "You've never pulled a knife on me."
"Koshin… What is she to you?"
I don't answer. I don't have an answer. I don't know what she is—just that the thought of someone dismissing her, reducing her, talking about her like she's just another body I want to fuck—
My hand twitches toward my sleeve again. I make myself stop.
"Coin's estate," Renan says finally. "Tonight?"
"Yes."
The word comes out before I decide to say it. My hand is on the window frame. Knuckles white.
Somewhere in that gilded prison, a mortal woman with blood on her mouth is learning what it means to be owned by someone who isn't me.
"You know this is going to cause problems," Renan says from behind me. "War between Houses. Concord violations. Faith clutching their pearls."
"Yes."
"And you don't care."
"How many guards?" My voice doesn't sound right.
"Twelve on rotation. Four at the main entrance. Daiven keeps two in the east wing where he houses his... acquisitions."
"One hour," I say. "Get Kira. Tell her we're paying Coin a visit."
Renan's grin is sharp. "With what reasoning?"
"I don't need a fucking reason." I turn from the window. "I'm the Mad God. I do what I want."