He nodded, even though a part of him had doubts.
Taking his helm, Urian headed for his home. But with every step, he shook more from his pent-up rage and grief. Worse? He knew he couldn’t go home like this. Not covered in blood and gore. The last thing he wanted was for his son and daughter to have this image of their father.
Or Xanthia.
What he’d done tonight was bad. On that count, Theo hadn’t been wrong. He had gloried in their deaths in a way that sickened even him. His wife and children didn’t need to know what he was capable of.
Worse, he didn’t regret it at all. He’d do it again, without hesitation.
I’m an animal. Theo was right. Their mother would have been ashamed of him.
And yet he wasn’t. His need for justice still burned so deep in his bones that he wanted to go back and desecrate them more. There was some innate part of him that he didn’t understand. It screamed out for action with a madness he couldn’t comprehend.
What is wrong with me?
His brothers didn’t feel this same screaming need to right the scales of order that he did. To balance chaos and seek out those who’d done wrong.
Why was he so different from them?
Not wanting to think about it, he craved Xyn’s presence more than any other, but he knew better than to seek her out, especially after what had happened when he’d intruded on Apollymi’s garden. The last thing he needed was another head injury. So he headed for Paris’s home to wash and change clothes.
To his surprise, Paris wasn’t there. Davyn answered the door with a shocked expression as he saw the condition Urian was in.
Urian wiped at the blood on his face. “I was wondering if I could wash up here before I went home?”
Davyn sputtered. “Depends … please tell me none of the guts or gore you’re wearing belongs to Paris.”
Aghast and offended by the question, he scowled at his friend. “Nay, but if you don’t let me in, I might add yours to it.”
Stepping back, Davyn made room for him to enter. “Well, you can’t blame me for asking, given how you two go at each other sometimes. It’s a natural assumption that it would be his, or another of your siblings.” He closed the door while Urian set his helm on a cloth atop their table. “Where is Paris, anyway?”
“I don’t know. I assumed he’d be heading straight here.” Removing his cloak, Urian headed for the washing basin and poured the water while Davyn helped him unbuckle his armor.
He wrinkled his nose in distaste. “What did you get into?”
“Human entrails mostly.”
“Ew!” Davyn shuddered. “Remind me never to disembowel them, then. They smell horrible!”
“Indeed. I have to say that it makes me rather happy we have a liquid diet.”
Suddenly, someone cleared his throat loudly behind them. “Should I ask why you’re stripping the clothes off my brother, Dav?”
Urian glanced over his shoulder to see a clean and neatly polished Paris glaring at them. “Like you, I didn’t want to go home bloody and reeking to my wife.”
Paris crossed his arms over his chest. “But you don’t mind reeking around my husband?”
“Not really. Don’t care if I repulse him.”
Paris laughed as he finally relaxed. “Fair point.” He came over to help Urian strip down so that he could clean up. “It was disgusting. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
Davyn snorted. “I can’t believe you two didn’t take me. She was my mother, too.”
Paris was instantly contrite. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about it. And I didn’t want you to feel bad.”
Urian quickly finished bathing while they drifted off to their bedroom, dropping garments as they went. “Paris, I’m going to borrow some clothes and let myself out while you apologize for being an ass.”
They rumbled a response that was punctuated by some rather eyebrow-raising sounds that made it even more awkward for him.
Wishing he shared that level of passion with his spouse, Urian quickly finished, then picked up his sword and shield and Paris’s cloak before heading toward his quiet, secluded home.
Unlike Davyn for Paris, no one waited up for him.
A quick sweep of his cottage found the children nestled in their beds, fast asleep. As was Xanthia. Which only made the emptiness inside Urian ache all the more. Even at home, he felt like an outsider.
Unwelcome in his own house.
In his own family. He still didn’t feel as if he belonged anywhere.
Except with a dragon.
How weird was that?
Sighing, Urian placed his sword in its bracket on the wall and hung up his shield, then stoked the fire for his wife. Xanthia was cold natured, so he always made a point to put new wood on the fire before he went to bed and to get up before her so that the room wouldn’t be too chilly whenever she awoke.
As he stood, he realized that she was watching him from the bed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I heard what you did tonight.” Her tone was cold and brittle.
He did his best to play it off, hoping she’d let the matter go. “Oh?”
She glared up at him. Her eyes were bitter in their judgment. “Everyone was talking about it after Theo returned without you and the others, and he told what the lot of you had planned. They say the humans will retaliate now. That they’ll come here to find us.”
He snorted at her ridiculous fear. As if a human could get through one of Apollymi’s bolt-holes, and even if they did, they’d land at his father’s feet in the center hall. A bad day for the human, but a good dinner for whatever Daimon happened to be there.
They could use the snack.
So he smirked at his wife. “I doubt that. If anything, they should fear us more.” It was the first time any Apollite or Daimon had ever struck back at them.
And it was long past time for such, in his opinion.
Sadly, Xanthia didn’t share his point of view. Rather, she curled her lip at him. “You’re a monstrous killer, Urian. I’m ashamed of what you’ve done.”
Those words cut him deeply. But not nearly as much as the condemnation in her eyes. That stung soul deep.
“I see.” He put the poker down beside the fireplace and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?”
He kept walking, without looking back. “Somewhere I’m wanted. Which obviously isn’t here.”
*
Xyn was still in her human form when she smelled that warm, sweet scent that was her Urian. For the longest minute, she started not to change. To tell him that she’d been the one who’d handed him the cup earlier after Apollymi blasted him.
That she’d finally felt the silk of his hair with her flesh that had burned from the memory of it ever since.
If only she dared …
Hating herself for the cowardice, she changed into her dragon body and tucked her black wings down so that she could meet him by the falls.
By the sharpness of his scent, she knew he was furious.
Most of all, she knew he was upset, and emotionally hurt.
What happened?
“We gutted every last one of them.”
That made her feel better for him, but his mood confused her all the more. Shouldn’t he be happy? Good.
Judging by the stunned expression on his face, her comment seemed to catch him off guard. “You’re not horrified?”
Should I be?
He gave her a pointed stare. Then spoke slowly, enunciating each word. “I slaughtered them, Xyn.”
She nodded slowly. I got that, Urian. They killed your mother. They deserved whatever it is that you did and then some. She nuzzled him with her snout to offer him comfort. I just wish I could have been there to help you.
He latched onto her and held tight.
Xyn savored his embrace, wishing it were a real hug with their bodies pressed against each other. Why couldn’t she find the courage to tell him the truth?
But then, she knew. She was terrified of losing what little contact she had with him. How would he react?
What if he never wanted to see her again?
It was a chance she just couldn’t take.
Urian kissed her snout and pulled back. “Did you see Apollymi’s priestess today?”