Page 16 of Sharpen Your Claws

While separated, Nicholas ensured to remain up to date. A band of sprites owed him a favor after he prevented their lake from being contaminated by a horde of uncaring redcaps dumping their kills into the pristine waters. Sprites could fade in and out of existence, traveling at speeds even a fae couldn’t contend with. They monitored William, so he knew exactly where William lived and worked. They were so close after years of separation. He wanted to be at William’s side, asking about all he had missed and learning what all William hoped to do.

His back fell against the windowsill. “Are you here to stop me? If so, I fear you will have to drag me away in chains.”

“I know a lost cause when I see one, but remember, if anything happens, it is your doing. All are endangered by your presence, but more so him.” Laurent’s hands folded over themselves carefully at his waist to make himself seem harmless.

“If you are implying I will hurt William, you are wrong.”

“Am I?” Laurent slipped into a crooked smile.

Fear struck Nicholas to his core, thoughts of darkness and captivity, of Laurent’s bitter voice, finding him beneath the soil.

“Soon, you will not recognize your own harm. You will see yourself as right and just. Do you believe Fearworn saw himself capable of tearing our worlds apart? That he ever considered our fate? He wished to learn, and that wish escalated. Is it not right to assume the same will happen with you?” Laurent asked, his voice always the same octave, as if no one was worthy enough to hear his raised voice.

“We are different people,” he muttered.

“But shades, nonetheless, and you want that mortal so badly. It is a craving, an addiction. Eventually, you will see everything as an obstruction in the way of your so-called love. His friends, his family, mortals love their social circles, but you will not see it as such. They will be obstacles.” Laurent spoke with a warning, like he cared. One of his tricks, one of his ploys to get what he wanted. But as he inched closer, breathing every word, the truth burrowed beneath Nicholas’ skull. An infection he couldn’t cut out.

“The more you see William, the worse you will get. Every moment spent in his presence may feel like bliss, but you are running toward an edge you cannot return from,” Laurent finished, standing at Nicholas’ side, casting him in shadow.

“You are trying to frighten me,” he countered. “You said you aren’t here to stop me, but from the sounds of it, you are trying to talk me out of seeing William.”

“I am merely discussing the future you are laying out for yourself.”

“You only care because of your deal with Alvina, because of what else you wish to use me for. You do not care about William and me,” he countered.

“But you care about the mortal and you will hurt him. Not today, perhaps, or tomorrow, or a year from now, but one day, you will snap and he will pay the price.” Laurent sighed like Nicholas put up a physical fight. He turned his back to his son. “Go to him, if you wish. I will not stop you from facing the consequences of your own actions, though I will be waiting for you once the lesson has been learned. And never forget, I am still owed. Evera will keep a close eye on you.”

Evera entered at the call of her name, frustrated as ever. “You brought this on yourself,” she said.

Laurent didn’t smile over victories, for they were more common than air. He walked away, silent and content in the damage wrought.

Arguing further would be worthless. Laurent did not understand because he had never known love, not love for his children or their mothers. Each of his siblings served a purpose, otherwise they wouldn’t be alive. Blair was the eldest, born from a fae lord who hadn’t cared for her lands, so Laurent sought to steal them. Laurent believed a child with the previous caretaker would make absorbing the land easier. Solomon was the heir to his mother’s lands in a southern territory. Nicholas did not know why Laurent agreed to that or why Solomon lived with them. If he asked, neither of them would have explained. Lastly was Percival, born between Laurent and another powerful fae out of pure interest to see if their blood would cause strong offspring. Percival didn’t live up to their expectations, although Nicholas doubted any of them could.

As for his parentage, he knew nothing. None had ever shared a tale about how his parents met or why his mother would have wanted anything to do with Laurent. The most he knew was that she was adventurous and troublesome, so perhaps it was as simple as her wanting to cause trouble for Laurent by giving an unwanted child. Regardless, he didn’t need to hear a story about her from Laurent because he couldn’t possibly care about anyone other than himself. Because of that, he couldn’t fathom Nicholas’ caring.

“Obstacles,” he whispered.

He certainly saw Laurent and Evera as obstacles, albeit Evera a little less so. That should be understandable. Laurent prevented Nicholas and William from seeing each other. They weren’t even granted a proper goodbye. But William’s friends and family? People like Henry and Charmaine, obstacles? He didn’t… he couldn’t… they made William happy. He wanted William’s happiness, his love, more than anything. Right?

“I won’t hurt him,” he promised, but there it was again; fear. His breathing staggered and vision blurred. He took a step back, as if to leave the castle, to return to Faerie. He would put as much space between him and William if it meant his safety, but then the thought became so ludicrous that he laughed.

Nothing awful would happen. He and William would be happy together, as they always should have been. There was nothing to worry about.

“I am going to see William. Should you bother us, I’ll have your head,” he warned.

“I have no reason to bother either of you. I am here to observe, to make sure you don’t get into trouble,” Evera replied.

“The one most likely to start trouble is you.”

“I can start as much trouble as I want. You’re the one at the end of your leash with your father.”

The world leash irritated him most. Even with this newfound power bursting within him, worry remained that he couldn’t take on Laurent, that there would always be a tether between them. He wanted to be entirely unleashed, to be free, but no matter what he did, something or someone always held him back.

Shaking his head, he leapt out the window. Evera became a shadow, much like Arden had been during the war. He hadn’t heard or seen much of Arden afterward, who immediately returned to Faerie. Arden’s departure did not sadden or disappoint him, though he was curious what Arden owed Laurent and if their deal had ended.

Mortals wandered the streets of Alogan from home to home and shop to shop. They carried parasols to hide from the morning sun. Ladies fanned themselves outside bakeries, their sweets half eaten. Men bickered along street corners and dirtied children scampered through damp alleyways.

Smog coated his lungs, tasting of charcoal and grime. Evera’s mug twisted, bothered by it too. She wiped at her eyes that no doubt burned the same as his. The air tasted foul. He couldn’t fathom how mortals survived breathing it. There wasn’t much greenery, save the shrubs allocated to the vibrant yards of nobles at the center of town. The further from the castle they went, the fewer trees there were until all that remained were weeds sprouting from worn sidewalks or half dead plants struggling to survive outside cracked windows.

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