𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐬 (Book Two)

8. Reconciliation

Azriel

It wasn't fun being in the wrong.

A fact made less bearable by the conscious knowledge of being wrong.

Azriel couldn't help the building weight in his chest. The bubbling grief and regret of causing his brother such pain. But in the same moment he could not let get of his rage. The ancients had once described rage as residing in the liver, one love elegist describing his 'simmering liver' as 'swelling with crotechy bile' a fact he only knew from the many lovesick rants Rhys went on.

What a chore, to be the friend of an academic. They always had waxing words on standby to build up your regret.

Unfortunately Rhys had chosen this moment to remain silent, to take his defiant statement on the chin. Azriel had been hoping for a bit of rage. Perhaps even a petulant lashing out if only to make it feel less... vile.

Cassian shifted uncomfortably at his side. He had been a nervous wreck before the beach meeting, hence they were so late. A combination of meeting up with Isabella in a date setting, a family setting for Oliver and interacting with Rhys had resulted in a melt down that Azriel hadn't dared call a panic attack.

His lover wouldn't react well to that 'labelling'.

"If you're going to fight like dogs," Isabella's eyes dropped low, submissive. "I'm going to take Oliver back home."

"That's not a bad idea." Cassian rose to his feet. Isabella blinked up at him in surprise. "I'll come with you."

Rhys huffed but Cassian didn't miss a beat.

"Best we just have this conversation in pairs and then as a group."

He gave no other explanation before Isabella and a now sleepy Oliver were bundled up and out the door. Both Rhys and Azriel waved at the little boy who was curled up in his mother's arms.

They may be preparing to fight like dogs but they weren't going to do so in front of a child.

Azriel waved down the young waiter crushing on Rhys, ordering himself a coffee and Rhys the sugariest milkshake he could think of. Which was easy since it was his favourite.

Rhys only sighed, immediately footing the tab before Azriel could step in.

"Are we going to talk or sit in silence?" Rhys asked, clearly making an effort. Which only served to make Azriel feel like shit for not being the first to start the conversation. "Because I doubt you're finished after those encouraging words."

He kind of was but also wasn't.

Maybe relax a little first.

He all but mentally growled at the shadows. They were right of course. At some point his shoulders had tensed and raised, the equivalent of his hackles rising. It took far too much effort to relax. He had to physically roll his shoulders to Rhys' bewildered amusement.

"Seriously?" His brother demands. "You were that tense."

"It's not exactly a relaxing debate."

"I was under the impression we were on the same side." Rhys' voice was cordial, practiced. "Don't we all want the same thing?"

Azriel snorts, "A happy ever after?"

Rhys cocks head in interest. "Perhaps. There's nothing wrong with dreaming of simpler life."

A statement that reveal more about Rhys' ideal world that Azriel's. The shadowsinger had never wanted a simple life. He wanted money and wealth, enough to support his family, keep food on the table and a roof over his head. To have his mate never want anything and his children's education assured.