Feral King (The Dominant Bastard Duology 1)

“The fact that you’ve shut yourself off means you’re not dealing with it.”

His brother sat on one of the stools and leaned his elbows on the work table where he often went down on Minnow when she dared to follow him out – which was pretty much daily. He was starting to think oral sex wasn’t an effective threat.

“This is the third mother I’ve lost. I’m getting efficient.”

“The fuck you are. You haven’t dealt with any of them.”

“People will always leave, Church. It only hurts when you let yourself believe they’ll stay.”

Church drummed his fingers on the table, his forehead creasing. “If I would have known she was going to visit her sister for so long I wouldn’t have left when I did.”

“Oh, please. I don’t need a babysitter.” Severin poked at the fire, stoking it higher and adding bigger logs. “I definitely didn’t need a nanny anymore.” He shrugged, watching the flames lick up a particularly dry log. “People die.”

“Of course people die, but without loving people what the hell is the point of all this?” Church sighed. “You can’t keep yourself detache

d from everyone like you do. It’s not healthy.”

“Oh, and crying like a baby over Sutton is healthy?” Her name came out as a growl, but he pushed away his mental image of her face, and the last words she’d said to him when she’d called the day before. “She was an old woman. We knew she was going to die sooner or later. Shocker. Old woman dies. Someone call CNN.”

Church’s gaze hardened. “Be a dick about Sutton. Be a dick to me, if you want. Just try to be nice to Minnow. Maybe we let you down, but she seems pretty set on sticking around.”

“She should go too. Rodrigo likes her. Maybe he’ll take her.”

“Oh for fuck’s sakes. You can’t hand her off like a pet.”

“She is a pet.”

Church slammed his hand down in frustration. “You’re going to do with her like you do with everyone. The closer she gets, the harder you’ll test her. Eventually you’re going to push everyone away, Severin, and you’ll end up having a lonely fucking life. I’ll always be around for you, but that only does so much good.”

So Church didn’t trust that she’d stay either. Had she been confiding in him? Was she already on the verge of leaving? Maybe she’d been planning to leave when Sutton came home and now felt obligated to stay.

Yes. That made sense.

Anxiety gnawed at him. He didn’t want her to leave, but the feelings he had for her were one-sided, just as he’d suspected. Now Church would leave and Sutton was gone, and Minnow was as good as packing her bags. He’d be alone in his tomb of a house and he’d have to be okay with that.

He was a grown man. Grown men weren’t supposed to need anyone. He’d gone out of his way to find ways to be alone in life, so why did the idea of being completely alone leave him with a vast, bleeding emptiness?

If there was no one to acknowledge his existence, would he disappear? He’d always been out of step with the world. Maybe he’d never been real.

A loud clapping sound drew him back out of his thoughts, and for a moment he was disoriented.

He was staring into flames. He was at the forge. Church was there.

“Severin, stop it!” Church said, his voice sharp. “You need to grieve. You can’t let yourself disassociate after I go because Minnow won’t know how to get you out of it. And so help me – I will call the fucking police to bring you to the hospital if you go too far down the rabbit hole this time.”

“You have a life to get back to and enough people to take care of,” he replied, remembering enough about normal human interactions to give his brother a reassuring half smile. “I’ll be fine.”

“My God, Sev. You’ve never been fine.” Church rubbed a hand over his face. “You’re the only family I have left in the world, and I need you to be okay. Maybe if you just talked to someone –”

The old argument and was still going nowhere.

“Some things become more real when you say them out loud. Poking a wound with a stick doesn’t help it heal.”

“Cleaning it out does. Talking can help with all that shit you carry around. If not me, and not a counselor, why not Minnow? Rodrigo? I don’t know – maybe...”

“If you send me another fucking journal for Christmas we will have words.”

Church chuckled, but it was a sad sound, then his expression sobered. “I can’t believe she’s gone, man. Christmas.” He shook his head.