Page 31

LEAVENED BY KNEADING

Severath

“ W e’re here for…more bread?”

Severath cocked his head. “I suppose we can get that while we are here too.”

Before them stood the bakery, its stone facade hemmed in tightly by other buildings along an alley-less road. Just the smell of the place made Severath’s shoulders unpinch, toasted wheat almost as good as Ember’s knuckles. What was inside would make him tense up again, but hopefully not for long.

He’d avoided Ember for an entire day, and depending on one’s definition, he had been successful.

She hadn’t asked him why he’d spent three times as long missing the backyard buckthorn with especially fiery arrows or why he’d eaten cold leftovers in silence, so he’d succeeded in not saying the unintelligible mess of maybe-words-maybe-just-pained-sounds in his head, but he’d failed too because she looked so unhappy.

Blazes, he would have taken her insulting his tail, his cooking, his missing eye—anything but that.

The squeezing in his chest at her worried face overwhelmed the minor relief at avoiding the turmoil in his guts, though, and he didn’t even bother to send a drayk—he just showed up on the bakery’s stoop.

After the festival, Elliran hadn’t visited to revert the runes on Ember’s cuff, a thing he cursed at first because the scribe’s presence would have been a good distraction, but perhaps it had been fate that she was probably too hungover to complete her duty, and his ward could still be brought anywhere in Heck with Councilor Fineril’s approval.

Anywhere , he thought as he ushered her through the door, and I choose here.

“Sev!” Lazerath sprinted around the counter, arms held aloft for an embrace and tail snapping through the air.

Severath stiffened, and the overly exuberant squeeze came with abandon.

Lazerath attempted to lift him, and even though it was Severath’s fault for allowing the embrace to go on longer than two heartbeats, he still grunted and gave his brother an unfriendly pinch to his armpit.

Laz pretended to be mortally wounded, and Ember pressed a hand to her mouth to hold back laughter.

At least someone was having a good time .

“This must be your brother.” Her grin was impossible not to match. Severath didn’t know what he expected out of the human, perhaps a snide look and a sarcastic remark about keeping secrets, but her apparent joy was an infectious relief.

“Oh, and is this the big bad murderer you warned me about?” Lazerath spun to face her, resting fists on his hips, apron-clad chest jutting out.

Severath gritted his teeth, but Ember just cocked her head, dark eyes narrowing and grin remaining, so he ventured, “Yes, and if you do not behave, I will set her loose on you. Ember, this is Lazerath.”

“His twin,” he said. “I got all the charisma.”

“And I was saddled with all the good sense. Where’s Davarox?”

“In the back. You caught us during the, uh…”—he looked around the empty front room—“the midafternoon lull.”

Severath clicked his tongue and noted a full tray of sweet buns on the counter. “That was by design. I’m in need of two favors: one, a delivery to Elder Zaretha, anything bronzeberry flavored.”

“Ah, trying to make up for setting something on fire you shouldn’t have?”

“I forgot to bring her sweets from the festival this year.” Laz gave him a disapproving look, but Severath went on before his brother could chastise him. “And two, would Dav be amenable to a baking lesson?”

“Uh, I don’t think he needs lessons.”

Severath sighed. “ To give one.”

“ You finally want to?—”

“For Ember.”

“Oh!” Lazerath’s mouth fell open, all his teeth on display. “Sure, I would love to?—”

“ Dav. ” Severath snorted, and Lazerath finally caught up.

A hurried introduction with the other demon and an unnecessarily long chat later, Ember and Davarox were working studiously in the kitchen, and Severath had managed to pry Lazerath away under the guise of a cracked windowpane out front.

“Which did you say it was?” He leaned so close his horns knocked into the glass and almost did crack it. “I don’t see?—”

“I have a problem.”

“Oh?” Lazerath spun away from the window, black eyes going wide and intrigue plastered on his face more plainly than the smudge of flour across his nose.

Severath’s gaze flicked to the kitchen door, and before he could say more, Lazerath sucked in a knowing breath.

“You like her.”

Severath grunted at his brother’s ability to save up all his perception for the most distressing moment.

“But you don’t like anybody.”

That wasn’t true—it was more accurate to say he tolerated very few and liked even less—yet there was no use correcting him. “You see, then, the problem.”

Lazerath strode just before him, black brows narrowing and lips pursed in that hard-thinking way. “She’s human, she’s a criminal, she’s in your custody. Those are problems— not ones I really believe in, mind you—yet you think liking her at all is the problem?”

Severath shrugged. “All of those other things too, but I’m sure you’ll explain how they’re not.”

“Because they’re not .” There was a single set of seats by the window, and Lazerath dropped himself into one, leaned back casually, and gesticulated with almost every word.

“You wouldn’t have brought her here if you actually thought she was dangerous, so that’s not even a thing .

And as far as the human part goes, we’re extremely compatible with them, so that’s the opposite of a problem. ”

“How can you know something like that?”

“Just trust me.” Lazerath waved away the hint despite a waggle to his brows.

The only reason he wasn’t elaborating was because his brother had asked for help, and that occurrence was so rare, Laz had to exploit it lest it escape.

“So that only leaves the problem of you being her guardian, but you’re way too uptight and noble and a bunch of other dumb stuff to make a move while she’s a prisoner in your house, so I…

wait.” His jaw went slack, and his hands fell out of the air.

“Oh, by the deepest blazes, what did you do ?”

Severath covered his face with claws unwittingly extended and trudged over to the other chair. “There was some…observation.” He cringed at his own words. “And maybe some light touching.”

Lazerath made an alarmingly joyous noise, and his tail actually fucking wagged. “And now you want to know how to go from light to heavy?”

“No,” he snapped, then felt himself deflate. “Well, yes, in a way.”

Lazerath sat forward, elbows hitting the table as he spread his fingers wide. “All right, listen, human women have a totally different setup down there. Well, not totally, but it’s in, like, a different order and it’s sort of smaller, but boy is it stretchy?—”

“No, stop, don’t.” Severath gritted his teeth, fang slipping out. “And keep your damn voice down.”

Laz whined in the back of his throat. “But you need to know.”

“I already have an…idea, and that isn’t what I came here for considering I didn’t expect you to know.” He left a brief pause into which Laz, yet again, did not interject.

Instead, his brother just grinned crookedly, made a suggestive hand gesture—risky, since Severath was already considering breaking his fingers—and then sat back with a contented sigh.

There was something unnerving in that smile.

It wasn’t one Lazerath gave him often since it silently said, I know something you don’t know , but the confidence behind it made Severath’s next words come out painfully.

“My past attempts at courting have been woefully unsuccessful.”

Lazerath remained silent, tilting his head like a confused veilhound, smile falling away.

Under the warm lantern lights and beset by the familiar doughy smells, Severath felt his throat tighten.

Though he would not necessarily admit it, Laz and Dav’s bakery was likely his favorite place in Heck.

He didn’t care for traversing the busy district to get there or the too-tight embrace that came with entering, but the comfort of his brother’s concerned eyes was always there—eyes that saw right into him even if they were attached to a mouth that often said far too much.

“I’ve only managed to hurt the few demons who’ve hazarded my company for any length of time,” Severath said, clearing the constriction from his throat. “It is as if I’m meant to remain unbonded.”

His brother’s lip curled like he’d pulled out something forgotten from the back of the icebox.

“Well, if you’re still unbonded, then obviously you haven’t successfully courted anyone, but that’s just how it goes until you are successful.

” It was such an obvious thing to say Severath wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thought of it, but then Laz pulled him right out of the realization. “And you didn’t hurt Palma.”

Severath’s jaw tightened at the memory of the blue demon. “That’s not how she tells it.”

“No, you just weren’t vulnerable with her.”

It wasn’t a coincidence he was using the same word she had, and so Severath urged him to go on, armed with only a piercing, one-eyed gaze.

“She may have come here after you two split to talk.”

Severath frowned, a tough feat when his lips were already in a perpetually frowny position. “It’s irritating that you remember after so many years. And anyway, a warrior can have no vulnerabilities.”

“Yeah, she said you said that too.” Annoyance passed briefly over his brother’s face. “But you’re not supposed to spar with your soulbonded.”

Severath knew what Laz meant, yet he couldn’t help himself from snapping sarcastically, “Diaran liked sparring.”

Laz clicked his tongue. “And why didn’t that work out?”

“I don’t know,” Severath mumbled, crossing his arms.

“Are you sure?”

“No.” He slid down slightly in his chair, tail thwacking the ground.

“Is it because you ended things?”

Severath shot him a betrayed look.

“Diaran came here afterwards too.”

“What, are you every female demon’s closest confidant?”

“Apparently when my brother fucks up courting them, I am.”

Severath growled, leaning forward, and to his surprise Lazerath matched him in aggression.

As his claws and fangs extended, he imagined Lazerath leaping over the table and taking a swing, something neither of them had done since they were much younger, yet Laz wasn’t backing down, a sure sign Severath was being the kind of ass his brother would soon stop putting up with.

Another huff, another moment of misplaced anger, and then Severath sat back. His brother did too, and they both shot hesitant glances at the kitchen door, but it remained closed.

“Did Diaran tell you…everything?” Gods, he hoped not .

“She only said she was worried about you.”

Severath wouldn’t have believed him if he hadn’t lost the playful bounce to his voice. Diaran was a well-trained warrior and guard, studious, logical, brash—his perfect match, or so he had thought. He was sure she had never been worried about another soul in her entire life.

“Palma actually said the same thing too.”

Now that Severath could believe—she had been Diaran’s antithesis: compassionate, fun-loving, whimsical…

until the end. Then Palma had shouted and cried and told him she couldn’t bond with someone so hardened, a stark contrast to Diaran’s complaint that Severath was “too soft.” But he was only “soft” because Palma had been so critical, and once the softness came out, it simply couldn’t be shoved back in, like some child’s stuffed plaything with its seams all split.

Severath clawed at his hair, only stopping when he caught the bandage.

Fixing it, he thought of Ember and her soft touch, and then he thought of her piercing gaze.

“I would rather not make any attempt if I’m going to end up hurting Ember,” he said, and the admittance felt like he had been run through.

“I mean, she did kill somebody, so she’s not that fragile.” Lazerath shrugged.

Severath had seen her skillfully chop and slice, but never with malice. Even her anger at him had been properly placed. “But I’m not?—”

“You,” Lazerath interjected, “are a demon, not bread dough.”

Well, no shit.

“You don’t need to, you know, have the perfect ratio of ingredients, and you don’t need to mold to whatever other demons want you to be.”

Severath opened his mouth.

Lazerath held up a finger. “ And you don’t need to rise up just to get punched down.”

“I under?—”

“Or get slathered in egg yolk and sprinkled with salt.”

“I don’t know what that’s supposed to?—”

“Oh! And you know that sort of long, twisted loaf we do? You don’t need to let anyone do that to you either. I mean, unless you want to, but I wouldn’t recommend it—your cock won’t work so good the next day.”

Severath grumbled under his breath, “I’m not sure I prefer you being this insightful.”

His brother grinned with too many teeth. “I’m trying to tell you to be yourself and follow your instinct.”

“My instinct wants me to lick her from head to tail and beg her to stay with me for as long as she can bear my presence.”

“Yes, that .” Lazerath snapped and pointed at him. “You never said that to Palma or Diaran! Follow that instinct.”

That was, of course, exactly what Severath was afraid of hearing and also exactly what he wanted to be told.

He pinched his nose and blew out a breath before his mind took him back to Ember’s bedchamber and all the places he could employ his tongue.

“Shall we ensure my pending downfall hasn’t gutted our friend? ”

“Sure, but what about the window?”

Severath stood, squinting at his brother. “The window is intact—that was an excuse to get you out here.”

“Oh, good one!” Lazerath flashed him a grin then frowned. “But what am I supposed to tell Dav?”