Page 29 of Hiss and Tell (Harmony Glen #2)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

S ebastian

Friday evening, and I’m sitting in my apartment surrounded by ancient texts and ritual preparations when my phone buzzes with a text from Thaddeus: Heard through the Harmony Glen gossip network that you’re preparing for something big.

Emergency brother consultation required.

I’m bringing beer. Don’t even think about arguing.

Before I can respond, there’s a knock at my door. I open it to find Thaddeus standing there with a six-pack of craft beer and his characteristic smirk.

“You look terrible,” he observes, pushing past me into the apartment. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“Hello to you, too.” But I’m smiling despite myself. “How did you know I needed—”

“The Silver Swimmers cornered me at the gym. Apparently, you’ve been ‘glowing with purpose but also looking slightly terrified.’ Their words, not mine.” He sets the beer on my counter and takes in the scattered books and ceremonial items. “So, this is really happening?”

“It’s happening,” I confirm, accepting the beer he offers even as I wonder how to retaliate against my neighbors for telling my brother my deepest secret after promising complete confidentiality. “Soon.”

“And you’re sure? About all of it?” His tone is casual, but his eyes are serious. “Because once you do this ritual thing, there’s no going back, right?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” The words come easily, surprising me with their certainty. “Thad, she’s… she’s everything I never thought I could have. And she wants this too. Wants us.”

Thaddeus settles onto my couch, his leather jacket creaking. “Tell me about her. I mean, really tell me, not the sanitized version the town gossips have created.”

So I do. I tell him about Aspen’s fierce independence, her endearing love for Milo, the way she makes me want to be braver than I am.

I tell him about our fake dating arrangement that became real, about how she makes me want to be the man she sees when she looks at me, about the way she trusts me with the most precious thing in her world—her son.

“She sounds incredible,” Thaddeus says when I finish. “And terrifying. The good kind of terrifying.”

“Exactly.” I take a long drink of beer. “What about you? How’s the bachelor life treating you?”

His expression tightens as though he’s hiding something. “Never better. That old adage is right. Girls love the bad boys. How could an ex-Gorgon enforcer be anything but a chick magnet, right?”

Just then, his phone buzzes. Thaddeus glances at the screen, and his entire demeanor shifts—his face softens, his posture relaxes, and for a moment he looks almost… content.

“Speaking of which,” he says, typing a quick response with more care than I’ve ever seen him put into anything. “I should probably…” His phone buzzes again, and this time he actually smiles—a real smile, not his usual smirk.

“Who is she?” I ask, genuinely curious about this transformation.

Thaddeus’s thumb hovers over his phone. For a moment it looks as though he’s going to shut down my line of questioning, but something shifts and he relents.

“Sloane. A journalist. Someone who asks too many questions and doesn’t know when to quit.

” He pauses, then adds with uncharacteristic vulnerability, “She’s…

different. Fearless. The kind of woman who wears thousand-dollar shoes to interview monsters. ”

“And you like her.”

“Yeah,” he admits, surprising us both. “I really do. She sees things—sees me—in ways that…” He trails off, then shakes his head. “But enough about my complicated situation.”

“Complicated is right. I imagine no one who came out into the light of day during the Revelation lives a life that isn’t complicated.” Wanting to change the subject, I add, “Do you realize that if this goes through, you’ll be Milo’s Uncle Thad?”

“Uncle Thad,” he repeats, testing the words. “I like the sound of that. Kid’s lucky to have you, Sebastian. You’re going to be an amazing father figure.”

“I hope so.” The fear I’ve been carrying surfaces briefly. “What if I’m not enough? What if I can’t live up to what they need?”

Thaddeus leans forward, his expression serious.

“I see a man who spent long days and sleepless nights researching ancient magic because the woman he loves shared something vulnerable with him. Someone who shows up at father-son breakfasts when biological fathers don’t.

And my brother—finally, finally allowing himself to be the person I know lives under that thick, green skin of yours. ”

His words hit deeper than I expected. “When did you get so wise?”

“You just never noticed, big bro.”

We sit in comfortable silence for a while, brothers who’ve gone through life taking very different paths. Outside, the sun is setting.

“So,” Thad says eventually, “what do you need from me? Moral support? Someone to make sure you don’t chicken out? Emergency backup if the ritual goes sideways?”

“Just… be here afterward? Tomorrow night will change everything. It would mean a lot to know you’ll still be part of it.”

“Sebastian.” This is his serious tone. “You’re my brother. Nothing’s ever going to change that. Not magic, not marriage, not anything.” He pauses, then adds with characteristic humor, “Though I reserve the right to tease you mercilessly about bow tie colors for the rest of your life.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

As the evening progresses, we move from serious conversation to Thaddeus’s latest story about the Silver Swimmers’ water ballet performance.

“They’ve added a section with pool noodle sword fighting.

Iris takes it very seriously,” he says, before the conversation shifts to my nervousness about the ritual.

“What if it doesn’t work?” I voice my deepest fear. “What if I’ve built this up and—”

“Then you’ll still have each other,” Thaddeus interrupts. “Sebastian, you’re not offering her this ritual to fix anything. You’re offering it to share everything. There’s a difference.”

His simple wisdom cuts through my anxiety like sunlight through fog.

“When did my little brother become the voice of reason?”

“Someone has to balance out your tendency toward overthinking.” He stands, gathering his biker jacket. “Besides, watching you find happiness makes it easier to believe good things are possible. I should go. Let you get your beauty sleep for tomorrow night’s big moment.”

“Thad?” I stop him at the door. “Thank you. For coming over, for listening, for… everything.”

His smile is warm, genuine. “That’s what family does, Sebastian. We show up.”

After he leaves, I return to my ritual preparations with a lighter heart. The ancient texts don’t seem quite so intimidating; the ceremonial items feel less foreign in my hands.

Tomorrow night, I’ll offer Aspen my blood, my magic, my entire future. But tonight, I’m grateful for the family I already have—biological and chosen—and the love that surrounds us all.

Some bonds are forged in ritual and magic.

Others are simply built on showing up, time and time again, with beer and unexpected wisdom, and unconditional support.

Both kinds are sacred in their own way.