12. Aeron
Aeron
Neither of us had really moved much since I’d reached out to my grandfather.
Quill was at one end of the bed, and I was at the other.
The sun had gone down and campus was eerily quiet.
I hadn’t bothered to activate the enchanted lights.
We sat in the dark in silence. Outside I heard raindrops begin to patter against the window, a calm autumn storm rolling in.
I could feel Quill’s tension radiating across the space between us.
He was annoyed and at least a little scared, I could smell that much.
But there was something else too, a feeling of distrust that hadn’t really been there before I’d called my grandfather.
He’d heard everything. Of course he had.
And now, for some reason, he was even more standoffish than usual.
“You okay?” I asked, breaking the silence at last.
“Fine,” he said, and the clipped nature of the word told me he was anything but.
I waited, giving him time to elaborate. When he didn’t, I tried again. “That was intense out there.”
“Yeah.” He shifted on the bed, and I heard the rustle of fabric. “Thank you. For... you know. Getting me out of there, I guess. I kinda froze up.”
The gratitude in his voice surprised me. Usually Quill fought me on everything, resisted my help with the kind of stubborn determination that was honestly admirable. But right now, in the dark of my room with the rain pattering against the window, he sounded almost vulnerable. That was new.
“I’d do it again,” I said, meaning every word. “In a heartbeat.”
He didn’t respond to that, but I heard his breathing shift slightly. I leaned back against the wall, trying to figure out what to say next. The darkness seemed to make things easier somehow, like we could talk without acknowledging the other was there.
“What did you see?” I asked carefully. “Before I got there?”
“Shapes,” Quill said slowly. “Humanoid I guess, but I couldn’t make out any details. They were pushing against the wards, and each time they did, the light got brighter. It was like... like they were trying to force their way through.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Did they seem organized? Like they knew what they were doing?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” He paused, and I could practically hear him thinking. “It happened so fast. One second I’m running, the next everything’s going insane.”
“That’s okay,” I said softly. “It was a scary situation.”
“Yeah…” His voice was quieter now, almost a whisper. “I felt them notice me. It was like... like something was looking at me, and I knew if I didn’t move, something bad was going to happen.”
My hands clenched into fists. The thought of those things targeting him… it made my blood boil. “They didn’t get to you.”
“No,” he agreed. “You got to me first.”
There was something in the way he said it that made my pulse quicken. Not quite gratitude, but something close. Something softer than his usual defensive tone. I wanted to push, to take advantage of this moment when his walls were down, but I held back. For once, I was going to play this smart.
“We should probably talk about what happens now,” I said instead. “My grandfather wants us to keep this quiet, but—”
“But that’s weird,” Quill finished. “Why would the head of the Elder Council want a ward breach kept secret? Don’t people deserve to know what’s going on?”
“You know how people are,” I sighed. “They panic, they get scared, and they do irrational things. My grandfather wants to stop that from happening. He’s trying to lead the entire paranormal world right now and sometimes that means keeping certain things quiet.”
“I guess I didn’t grow up in a household full of secrets like you did then.” There was a bitter edge to Quill’s voice now. “I’m sure he has his reasons. But I still think people deserve to know.”
“Your parents never kept secrets from you?” I scoffed, unable to help myself.
“Nope,” Quill huffed back. “Especially not after I started going through the business ledgers at the age of ten.”
I laughed, a real laugh that caught me off guard. “Ten? Damn, Red. That’s—that’s actually kind of impressive.”
“My parents run a potion making business,” he said, and I could hear the shrug in his voice.
“They told me that we couldn’t afford some expensive toy I wanted and wouldn’t tell me why.
So I went looking. I went through all the books looking for the money.
” He paused for a moment. “Needless to say, I didn’t get the toy. But I did get a job.”
“So you grew up knowing exactly what was going on,” I mused, turning this new information over in my head.
“Exactly,” Quill said. “Which is why all this cloak-and-dagger bullshit with your grandfather, and everyone else who's trying to keep it all a secret, bothers me. People should know what’s threatening them. Instead, all the people I know here are pointing fingers at each other behind their backs. If someone didn’t come back to school, suddenly everyone thinks they’re Purity Front. It’s stupid and counterproductive.”
I wanted to argue, wanted to defend my family’s way of doing things, but something stopped me.
Maybe it was a sense of duty to remain neutral and not create more animosity toward my grandfather, or maybe it was just that Quill was finally talking to me like I was a person instead of an annoyance.
Either way, I found myself asking a question instead of defending.
“What was it like? Growing up like that?”
There was a long pause. I could practically feel him deciding whether to answer, whether to open up even this much.
“Boring mostly,” he finally said, and there was something almost fond in his tone. “And stressful. My parents are good people. They work hard. But we were… we are poor because they refuse to innovate.”
“Is that why you’re so serious about classes?”
He didn’t answer. But that was answer enough.
“Tell me something,” I said into the darkness, taking a risk. “Something real. Something you don’t tell other people.”
“Why?”
I just chuckled. “What the hell else are we going to do?”
He was quiet for so long I thought he might not answer. The rain continued its steady patter against the window, a soothing backdrop to the tension between us.
“I’m scared,” Quill finally admitted, his voice barely audible. “All the time. That I’m not going to be good enough. That I’m going to let my parents down, or that I’ll screw up the business, or that I’m wasting my time here at Widdershins when I should be helping them instead.”
My heart skipped a beat. This carefully controlled, fiercely independent guy sitting in the dark with me was afraid. Just like everyone else. And what’s more, he was actually being honest with me for once.
“You’re not going to screw it up,” I said quietly.
“You don’t know that,” he shot back, but there was no bite to it.
“No,” I agreed. “But I know you. And I know you’re too smart and you care too much about getting things right to let it fall apart.”
I heard him shift on the bed, and then, to my surprise, he moved closer. Not by much, but enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. And close enough that I could tell his scent had shifted toward something less irritated and more… curious.
“Why are you being nice to me?” he asked, and the vulnerability in his voice made my throat tight.
“Because you deserve it,” I said simply.
He made a small, almost broken sound. “That’s not an answer.”
“Because I can’t help it,” I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “Because even when you’re driving me insane, even when you’re fighting me at every turn, I just want to... I don’t know. Take care of you. Be near you. Make sure you’re okay.”
“Aeron—”
“I know,” I cut him off. “You don’t want that. You don’t want me. But that doesn’t really change how I feel. Honestly, I’m not even sure why I feel it. I just do.”
In the darkness, I felt rather than saw him turn toward me. His breathing had quickened, and I could smell that spike of arousal cutting through the fear and tension. My own body responded immediately, my cock hardening in my jeans.
“This is a bad idea,” he whispered. “Us being stuck together.”
“Probably,” I agreed. “You hate me.”
“You’re right,” he said, his body shifting closer. “You’re the most annoying asshole I’ve ever met.”
“High praise, coming from you, Red.” I looked up at him, barely able to make out his shape in the dark. He was inches away from me. “I bet you’re gonna yell at me again any moment now—”
I was cut off as his lips pressed against mine.
It wasn’t tentative or timid like I expected.
This was desperate, hungry, his mouth finding mine in the dark with unerring accuracy.
His hands came up to grip my shoulders, pulling me closer as he deepened the kiss.
I responded immediately, one hand sliding into his red hair while the other wrapped around his waist, drawing his body against mine.
He tasted like old fear and adrenaline. But his pheromones were filling the room now, sweet and wanting, and I couldn’t get enough.
When he broke the kiss to breathe, I immediately went for his neck, trailing my lips along that sensitive skin just below his ear.
He gasped, his fingers digging into my shoulders.
“We shouldn’t,” he breathed, but he was already pulling his shirt over his head.
“You’re probably right,” I agreed, doing the same.
In the darkness, I couldn’t see him, but I could feel every inch of his skin as it pressed against mine. His chest was lean but muscled, his abs pronounced. I mapped the landscape of him with my hands and mouth, learning every sensitive spot, every place that made him gasp or moan.
“Aeron,” he whispered, his voice raw.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured against his collarbone. “Just like before.”
He pulled back just enough to look at me, though in the darkness I could only make out the faint outline of his features. His breathing was ragged, his pupils blown wide. Without a word, he pushed me backward on the bed, straddling my thighs.