Page 118 of Adonis

Connor chuckled. “Yes, you are the strongest. But are they dangerous to other people?”

“Some, maybe.”

Curiosity burned Connor’s mind. There was a whole other world out there with people like Adonis. Different skies, different trees, different waters.

“Did you see where my friend went?” Connor asked, his thoughts drifting to the night on the ship. Liam knocking Austin over the head, taking him by force to the boat. Roiling seas. A ship that sank. “Austin. He was the one I tumbled down the stairs with. Did they get away on the boat?”

“Yes. Away.” Adonis ran his hand over Connor’s side. “I did not think he was your friend.”

Connor wasn’t too sure about it all, either. “I think he was doing his best to be,” he admitted. “He was scared of the man who owned the tank and the ship. Cessair seemed stupid to me, but I don’t know the whole story.” When Connor considered Austin’s fear, he couldn’t hold a grudge against him for his actions. Not all of them, anyway. He could forgive the part where he screwed Connor over. He wouldn’t forget about him trying to get Adonis locked away in exchange for his own freedom.

“You worry again,” Adonis said matter-of-factly. He rubbed his nose against Connor’s nape. “Can we finish talking so I can heal you?”

Connor twined his fingers with Adonis’s as he set his palm over his stab wound. “Can we explore over there? In your world?”

“Yes.”

“Would you enjoy that?”

“Yes. Us, together. Yes.”

Connor sighed in contentment.

“Done talking now?” Adonis asked.

Connor’s content sigh turned into a laugh. “Oh, you can be such an ass, you know that? Yes. Yes, I am done talking. Please make all the aches and pain go away.”

Warmth blossomed in Connor’s stomach. Heat turned his body boneless, and he went slack in Adonis’s arms. Safe. Held. He heard the sounds of the others downstairs, and as bliss filled him, he knew that this was the most peace he’d ever felt.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

When Connor opened his eyes, he had no sense of how much time had passed. Adonis slept deeply next to Connor, and he didn’t stir even when Connor slipped out of bed. Connor ran his fingers through Adonis’s soft hair before he left the room. He felt much better than he had when falling asleep, but the dryness of his throat was not to be ignored.

It was dark out, and he heard voices in the kitchen as he made his way downstairs.

If he’d taken a moment to listen before entering the kitchen, he would have realised it was not a conversation he was walking in on but an argument. As he stepped through the doorway he came up short. Trevor and Edith were facing off, both clearly agitated.

“—is a wonderful young man. He’s smart, introspective, soft—”

“Soft?” Edith interrupted lip curling in distaste.

Trevor’s jaw tightened. He swallowed before he continued. “He’s gentle, too. Incredibly gentle, especially with Laurence. And you would know this if you’d given him even an ounce of love or attention. He turned out well in spite of you, not because of you. And I care about him far too much to stay with someone who treats him so poorly.”

Connor’s breath caught. What he’d learned flashed through his mind. Confinement. Force. Abandonment. Fear.

“Trevor—” Connor stepped forward, unable to simply sit back and watch. He had wanted his mom to be held accountable for so long. For someone to step in and say that his parents were terrible, that it wasn’thisfault. But now that he knew, now that heknew—

Trevor jolted, his head whipping around to where Connor stood at the threshold of the kitchen. His angry look eased, but the steel in his eyes remained.

“No, Connor.” Trevor held up his hand to stop him. “This is between Edith and me.”

Connor didn’t. He couldn’t. Now that he knew.

“Edith, I want you to look at him. Look at this. Despite everything, he’s stepping in now onyourbehalf. And if you can agree on anything about Connor, you can agree about this: he’s not stupid. He’s not stepping in because he thinks you’ll change your attitude toward him or suddenly start to love him. He’s doing it for you. Because he doesn’t want you to hurt. And you have the nerve to call him a bad child?”

Edith’s gaze slid to him. Connor met her eyes. They were the same grey as his own, and Connor wondered did his expression ever mirror hers? Were his eyes as expressive? Did his bewilderment show in the same way? Was his anger so obvious?

He saw the moment she grappled control over her emotions; where she used to explode, she now simmered.Just like me, Connor thought.