Page 19 of Sharpen Your Claws

Anger boiled behind Nicholas’ eyes, though his voice remained soft, “This is not obsession, it is love. Why do you not believe me?”

Because William recognized the look in his eyes, the unyielding desire that led to destruction. Fearworn had such a look when he retrieved his book of monsters from Nicholas, when he gazed down at the battlefield believing he won. Nicholas looked at him like an object to obtain and keep, a trophy he may polish and care for everyday, but an object nonetheless.

He wished Nicholas meant what he said, that their love was truly shared. Deep down, past the frustration and anger, there had always been hope for Nicholas to appear and make things right. He hated admitting to that, hated thinking of how happy they could be, how he could give in when Nicholas hurt him, but now… things were different, and they weren’t right.

Nicholas’ worst fear happened because of him. Each day that passed, he would grow worse in ways they may not fathom. Would his presence make Nicholas’ symptoms worse? If they weren’t together, could Nicholas live a life in Faerie, a better one?

He hesitated to ask, “What will you do if I do not return your feelings?”

“I will have you, William Vandervult, or not one at all. My soul is forever yours,” Nicholas replied.

“You didn’t answer my question. What if I do not return your affections?”

He broke into a smile, sweet, save for his eyes that raged. “Why would you not? Have I done wrong?”

The room shook. Metal creaked from a wind that flung open windows and shattered glass. Lightning crashed and thunder roared when there had been sun seconds ago. Patients and nurses shouted, perplexed by the lights flickering, casting the warehouse in eerie darkness.

“Do you remain upset? I have explained myself,” Nicholas snarled, and he felt a pressure on his chest, as if Nicholas’ anger took physical form and laid heavy on his lungs.

“I do understand.” He took a step back. The windows would be his best escape. He could jump to the floor below, risk a broken bone if it meant survival. “I merely wish to say that this is a complicated situation.”

Nicholas approached. That strangling sensation strengthened. William struggled to breathe, let alone speak. His hand fell on the window, searching for the clasp. “I…I haven’t seen or heard from you in years. There,” he coughed, “have been a lot of misunderstandings. I need time to think over things. I will not simply fall into your arms. Besides, I have very pressing matters.”

Nicholas blinked, and the storm subsided. The howling wind settled. Lights brightened, the pressure dissipated, and he snapped his fingers. “Ah yes, the missing patients?”

William took a solid breath. His fingers held the window clasp, prepared to seek freedom. Nicholas acted as if moments ago hadn’t happened, like he didn’t realize what he caused or might have done if William didn’t say the right words at the right time.

“Yes, a handful of my patients are missing.” He never removed his eyes from Nicholas or his fingers from the window. There was a knife strapped to his waist, and a gun locked in the desk. He wouldn’t get the gun in time if he needed it, so the knife would have to do.

“Leave it up to you to stumble upon trouble.” Nicholas snickered, then settled a hand beneath his chin. “My sprites spoke of it only recently. How lucky you are to have me on your team! I do love a good adventure.”

“This is no game. These patients mean a great deal to me. I will not have you assist for the fun of it,” he said hesitantly.

Nicholas gave him a slow once over, then frowned. “You claim to understand me, but you remain upset.”

“My frustration has nothing to do with that.” And it certainly ran much deeper. The wound Nicholas gave couldn’t be sealed by his return. Rather, he dug new tunnels through William’s heart, finding an entirely new way to wreck him.

Nicholas crossed his arms like a petulant child. “It seems like it does. Do you truthfully no longer have feelings for me? Do not lie. It is unfair.”

“By the Souls!” He threw his hands in the air. “What does it matter how I feel? What do you expect to happen?”

“I believe the mortals call it courting.”

He laughed bitterly. “What do you think courting is? Sex?”

Nicholas rounded the desk. William’s back hit the window. Feeling the solid surface behind him, realizing he was trapped, made sweat trickle along his neck.

Nicholas took his waist and tugged him close. He hated how comfortable it was, how he wanted a moment like this, how he so easily settled in Nicholas’ familiar embrace, even after what happened. How easily Nicholas became angered and how easily that anger disappeared without him understanding a moment of it.

“You speak as if that is all there ever was between us. Did we not have sweet moments too? I will give all that I have for you,” Nicholas promised.

William couldn’t forget their sweet moments, even when he tried. There was more than he could count, more than he realized after Nicholas disappeared. He dreamed of them, and most nights, they warped into nightmares. He couldn’t deny wanting more, wishing for him and Nicholas to spend their days together walking the park or visiting a library, but he was not naïve enough to believe any of it to be possible.

“Need I remind you of your arrangement with Evera? I will not find myself at the center of trouble between you and your father.” He did not wish to see Laurent ever again. The moment at the castle was more than enough, and he imagined Laurent didn’t want to see him either.

“I broke a deal with him once. I will do so again.”

“I never thought you were so naïve. Mortals and fae do not work well together. We can’t—”

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