Page 14 of How Not to Charm Your Human Colleague (Falling for Demons #2)

A WELL-TIMED STROLL

Aofe

A ofe was a master of many things.

Finding a workaround for an accessibility issue. Ignoring ableist comments. Dyeing the hair on the back of her head.

Normally she’d include preserving a smile in the face of obvious disrespect when she wasn’t in a safe position to rebuke the action, but her patience was so thin she thought she might inadvertently set a painting on fire with her thoughts.

She had just made strides with Kizros after he’d avoided her, only for him to receive the invitation from his parents and shut her out again.

Now she understood why. She’d watched him slowly fall silent, watched any excitement he might share get whittled away as his family ignored him until he only offered barbed smiles and silent nods.

But then he’d cut her food when he noticed her stop eating, and looking at him in that moment had solidified something in her chest.

Kizros wasn’t meant for silence. He was meant for rambling thoughts and charming jokes and little flowers sprouting out of every crisscross of his belt. And she wanted to pick up right where they’d left off in the shop days ago.

But Aofe didn’t know what she was meant to do here.

Stand up and defend him, and possibly embarrass him?

Offend the Kosteri name and find herself in violation of some clause in her work papers she’d still not read?

Somehow end up alienating herself and Kizros even further, to the point he may not want her around?

Worse, since Karroth had requested he and Kizros have a private drink in his study after dinner, she was left helpless to offer any kind of support Kiz might need.

And though she doubted she might find any sort of buffer with the presence of his siblings, she missed their company after their suspiciously uncomfortable and hasty departures.

“This one is my favorite,” Ukela said, already a dozen paces ahead of where Aofe was both trying to keep up and also not trying all that hard.

The demon stared up at the large canvas, a soft smile on her lips.

“Kizros has some connections with a few artists, quite talented demons, but no one has been able to pinpoint the identity of this artist in particular. We have several of their paintings, including a larger one in the study.”

Aofe looked up at the painting—a scene of shadowy figures dancing in a dark wood—admiring the few things she understood about art.

The use of space, the colors, the emotions it evoked.

She felt a subtle sense of longing, mixed with a hint of rebellion, which was truly a fascinating thing to consider when she’d not been exposed to much art in her past, let alone that of demon make.

Ukela continued her not-so-casual stroll and asked over her shoulder, “Do you have family back in the human world?”

Aofe shifted on her feet, a cold pit trying to open in her stomach. “I do.”

“Oh,” Ukela sighed, holding a clawed hand over her heart even as she kept walking. “They must miss you terribly. I’m so sorry.”

It didn’t feel threatening, but it also didn’t feel all that genuine.

Enough that Aofe held her tongue on admitting or acknowledging Ukela’s perceived sympathies, even if her thoughts threatened to cloud her focus.

“Kizros has been really wonderful since we got here, though. He’s supported me, but also gone out of his way to make sure the other humans have what we need. ”

Aofe nearly clutched at her gifted necklace, but the dimmed smile on Ukela’s face had her tightening her hand on her crutch instead.

“So much potential, my boy. Wasted on that silly little shop,” she hummed, then like she was pulled out of a trance, nearly skipped to the last painting at the end of the hall. “Oh, and this one I snatched right up from Vylless Sohraxi.”

Aofe didn’t give a farting fudge about the next painting, not when she realized exactly how timed Ukela’s arrival was to this location. Just beyond her, through the partially cracked door, she could already hear Karroth’s deep voice.

“… that was your first mistake.”

Aofe slowed her approach, disappointment creeping up her spine.

“Is this really what you called me in here for?” Kizros asked, and already Aofe could hear the impatience dripping from his voice.

“Look,” his father continued, and Aofe could see the smug tilt of Ukela’s chin like she was smelling victory. “It’s respectable what you did, but you’ve already noticed the repercussions. Just think about it.”

By the sound echoing from the office, Kizros had just slammed a glass object down with so much force Aofe was surprised nothing had shattered. “I’m not sequestering Aofe to the back room, nor keeping her from that work. She’s done nothing wrong.”

Cold sluiced down Aofe’s spine as she stiffened.

“And for the record,” Kizros continued, voice rising, “she’s actually improved half a dozen of my methods already from redundant steps and alternate ingredients.

A few clients creating bullshit excuses to shop elsewhere doesn’t bother me because I never wanted nor needed their business.

So don’t pretend you’re worried about my finances when I’ve been doing this for years and not once asked for your advice. ”

“Watch your tone, Son,” Karroth growled, but Kizros’s answering scoff was louder.

“Don’t you dare insult her again, do I make myself clear?

” he snarled, and this time it was Ukela who stiffened at her son’s declaration.

“And the next time you speak about her disability with disgust, or suggest I ‘trade her for another’, just remember our history. What our ancestors were called here to be, and what those humans almost became. Aofe deserves to take up as much space as she likes, and if I don’t hear from Rosalind that you’ve petitioned for more protections and accessibility for the humans, I will drag the Kosteri name through Dreadmoor’s muck and not regret a thing.

I have enough on you and Mother to last an entire week of court hearings, and I can easily find more. ”

Aofe blinked in shock, feeling the sunburst charm warm against her skin.

There was an awfully long silence before Karroth said slowly, “Is that a threat?”

Kizros snorted. “Thought that was pretty fucking clear.”

Aofe jolted as the door swung open, Kizros’s body filling the doorway in a rush. He froze when he spotted her, glanced over to find his mother looking horrified, then ground his jaw as he turned away.

Fury and disappointment weighed on his features as he strode toward Aofe, stopping just before her.

To her surprise, his teeth had elongated into sharp points—confirming she had noticed it before, even if he’d hidden them from her.

His chest rose and fell, and though he looked to have a million things he wanted to say, nothing but angry breaths escaped his lips.

But despite that anger, she could see something else in the blackness of his eyes.

A vulnerability and a fear, not just for what she might have overheard, but what his anger had manifested in him.

His version of the violence he despised had slipped through the cracks in his armor, and he was terrified.

Terrified for what she might think of him now.

Aofe kept her eyes locked on his tormented ones, softened everything about her even though she wanted to match his fury. With careful balance, she reached out and placed her hand on his chest. Pressed against the heart pounding wildly against her palm.

“Let’s go home, Kiz,” she whispered gently.

He blinked down at her, jaw working with what she knew would be some cruel remark that he would regret come morning. But in that moment, she saw so much of herself in him: a pain that ran deeper than what lived on the surface, but also something stronger, desperate to shine through.

So Aofe slid her hand down to find his palm, wrapping her fingers around his warm skin. Even with the threat of his sharp claws, she didn’t hesitate .

He would never hurt her.

“Please,” she said, squeezing gently. “They don’t deserve any more of your beautiful voice tonight.”

It broke whatever numbness he’d fallen into. Kizros nodded, and without another glance back, he gave her space to turn so they could walk away from his parents.