Page 16 of Astaroth

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“No,” Aster said. He ran his mouth across the edge of his mug. “Are you still trying to rectify that? Because there’s no use. The only thing you’ll find down that rabbit hole is self-hatred and more trauma.”

“I’m not traumatized.”

“Then what are you?”

“Hurt,” Briar snapped. “Confused. Trying to make sense of it.”

“And if there’s no sense to be made?”

“There has to be.”

“There isn’t.”

“I didn’t come in here to argue with you about this.”

“Then why’d you come?” Aster tipped his head. He tracked Briar with a slow, mindful once over.

“Because I’d rather be alone with you than alone with my thoughts.”

“Is that what you are? Alone with me?”

Briar’s cheeks flared. He swallowed a mouthful of too-hot tea and shook his head. Maybe this was a mistake. A terrible, selfish mistake. Maybe he’d wandered the manor in the dead of night to escape his own haunting—Michael and the High Court and his sore clippings. Maybe he’d misjudged this, them, who they’d been together in the atrium hours ago.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Aster said.

“Well, that’s your fault.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Briar bit out, sucking in a strangled breath. “I hate that I keep bringing it up. It’s like I can’t—I can’tnottalk about it, even though thinking about it makes my skin crawl. It. . . It makes me seize up, like I have to mention it, or, or question it, or—”

“Breathe, Briar.”

“I haven’t taken a breath since he took my wings,” Briar said, finally, just like that, flinging the truth like a bullet. His heart plummeted into his stomach. He kept his eyes locked with Aster’s, daring him to open his mouth, to say another word, to throw pity at Briar’s feet like a rotting carcass.Keep it,he wanted to say.Keep your sympathy away from this wrecked place.

Aster placed his mug on the dresser. “I’d like to walk toward you.”

“Then walk toward me,” he said, confused.

“I’d like to place my arms around you, too.”

“I don’t understand why you’re—”

“Because you’re shaking,” he said, gently, cooing at a frightened dog.

Briar hadn’t noticed the tea spilling over his knuckles until right then. He took another hot gulp, draining the mug until there was hardly any liquid left. “Are you asking for permission?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing. Sometimes Chastity has moments like this, too. She’ll coil her neck and sway side-to-side. It’s her way of telling me she’s in the mood to hunt—sometimes it’s because she feels threatened. Whether she’s hungry or scared, I’ll certainly get bit if I reach for her. She can’t articulate her feelings in a way I’ll understand, but you can. That’s why I’m making my intentions clear.”

“I’m not a snake, Aster.”

“No, but you look ready to bite. Or run.”

“I won’t.”

“I’d take the bite, if that clarifies anything.”

“And if I ran?”