Page 14

“It’s not a bad pain, Little King,” Krave breathed, his voice shaking against the shell of his ear.

“It’s the kind of ache that only belongs to gods—those burdened with a power that could end worlds.

.. or cradle them.” He held him tighter, grounding him with his wind.

“That’s you. Do you understand? That’s what you carry.

” He pressed his mouth to his head, stroking reverently in his hair.

“That’s your unbreakable, breathtaking love.

” He swallowed, forcing air through his burning lungs.

“It clings to life when all that is wicked demands it be burned.”

He pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, cradling his head in both hands.

“No matter how vast the darkness inside you, Little King—your love is profoundly deeper and far greater. And your mother is so proud of you. When you wake her, she will be filled with your power just as I am. And she will know that everything she gave to protect you was worth a million deaths.”

He threw himself against him, his tiny arms clinging tightly.

“I love Mother very much,” he wept, his body jerking with soft sobs.

“I never want to hurt her. I want to protect her. Just like I want to protect Uncle Reuban and the Angel of Mothers, and all the mothers that she longs to protect. That’s what I want, Father.

I want to protect all of you, but... what if I can’t? What if the monster won’t let me?”

“The monster has no authority over you, Little King,” he swore, his fingers gripping the back of his head tightly against him.

“Each of us, your fathers , will fight with you. That’s why you’re with us,” he said.

“So we can help you fight and defeat any evil that dares come against you. We will not fail, my Little King. We will be victorious, do you understand?”

He nodded quickly against his chest. “Father is coming now,” he whispered, his body locking up.

Krave stood with him right as the air kicked up with the arrival of Kaos and Kildare in the clearing, Kaos heading for the hut and Kildare making his way toward him.

Krave’s winds had formed a dense lattice of power around every inch of the boy while he eyed the hard lines on Kildare’s face for signs of what the fuck was going on.

“How is he?” Kildare only mouthed.

Krave shook his head in answer before whispering, “What’s going on? Did he find Raviel?”

“Nobody finds Raviel if he doesn’t want to be found,” Kildare informed.

Kross lifted his head from Krave’s shoulder. “I know where he is.”

Kildare angled a curious look at him. “You do?”

He nodded. “I always know where he is. Just like I know where Father is and both of you and Uncle Reuban and the Angel of Mothers.”

“That’s quite the jurisdiction,” Kildare mused at Krave.

“What did Kaos tell you?” Krave asked.

“He fears things.” Kildare eyed the boy and Krave nodded to show he understood what he couldn’t say.

“What did he need Raviel for?” Krave wondered.

“To verify.”

Krave caught the layers in Kildare’s tone, eyeing him for more details.

“Allow me to spend time with our Little King to assess his gifts and growth,” Kildare said, signaling he go see Kaos with a tilt of his head at the hut.

Great. He’d have to exchange words with the ungrateful cock-god. “You okay with that?” Krave asked the boy, getting his immediate nods.

He set him down, realizing he’d gained more inches. “Soon you’ll be as tall as me,” Krave murmured, rubbing his head.

“I’ll be seventy-six inches tall in two hours and sixteen minutes,” he informed quietly. “This will make me three inches taller than you,” he informed Krave, then, “two inches taller than you,” he said to Kildare. “And one inch taller than… Kaos.”

Krave met Kildare’s gaze, wondering if he noticed the change in names from father to just Kaos. Personally, Krave was glad. He deserved the demotion.

“How’s that for a growth spurt?” Krave squeezed Kross’s shoulder, discovering a layer of muscle padding the boney frame. “I’ll be right back. Be gentle with Kildare,” he said. “He’s delicate.”

This got big eyes promptly investigating Kildare as Krave grinned and walked off.

“Don’t listen to him,” Kildare said. “He’s all hot air.”

“Only when you’re around,” Kross educated, bringing Krave’s laugh.

“That’s right, hot pants,” Krave called. “You’re the heat up my ass.”

“Your fire saturates his pressure system,” Kross further explained. “Without it, he’s a cold front. With teeth,” he added, his fond tone tickling Krave.

“More like a down draft with denture drama,” Kildare shot back, smacking Krave’s ass with his fire.

“Now you’re just flirting,” Krave teased, just before entering the hut and looking around. His steps stilled at finding Kaos kneeling next to Josie, holding her hand against his chest with his head bowed.

The sight brought his winds to a low growl, slowly weaving its way through the thick blanket of power his broody brother filled the hut with.

With every step, an odd and unfamiliar sensation twisted itself around him. Standing behind him, Krave’s gaze landed on Josie’s still face and the sight of her, lying there dead, stole the strength from his legs.

He sank to his knees next to Kaos, realizing the usual mile thick wall he hid behind was gone. Or maybe it was the suffocating agony emanating from him that couldn’t possibly be contained.

“She was never meant to survive the three of us.”

Kaos’s words slammed into his chest as Krave looked at him, winded. “What are you saying?”

His dark gaze moved toward him then paused between them. “Raviel will reveal the meaning tonight. Along with the boy’s full purpose. And ours.”

Krave’s breaths were too thick as he stared down at Josie. “Do you realize that… the boy… sees you as his father?”

Kaos rubbed Josie’s fingers over his lips with his eyes closed. “Because I am.”

Krave wished he understood his mind in regard to the boy. “As in a real father,” he whispered. “The kind that should love his son. The kind that our Queen would expect you to be to him.”

“I will be whatever I must,” he muttered, his answer one of defeat.

“She’s not going to put up with begrudging duty,” Krave whispered. “And neither will I. Neither will Kildare or even Reuban. I’m not sure what’s coming but I’m damn sure that whatever it is, we’ve been designated as his personal ass-kickers to any threats—and his heart is included in that.

And for some mysterious reason, how you feel means everything to him. He’s a part of her and you, and us, but especially you, I think. I mean, have you seen him? He’s got her lips, her nose, her ears. And her huge heart.”

“Giving him love requires that I have it to give,” Kaos said quietly. “I have surrendered all that I am to protect My Queen.”

“And she did the same for you. Her son’s father—Mr. Perilous Pants.” Krave leaned in, eyes narrowed. “You know damn well she’s not going to let you brood around in that tacky doom bullshit, so you better find a way.”

Kaos lowered her hand to the bed, keeping his hand over hers. “I am a vessel of wrath,” he said. “Designed to fight in a war that demands a precise mix of this tacky doom bullshit. And unless otherwise commanded, I will continue being what I was created to be.”

Mild disgust twisted Krave’s mouth. “Good grief,” he muttered. “A martyr with a God complex.” He leaned in again, his anger catching up. “Listen… Wrath Daddy—this war you’re so eager to fight isn’t just about destroying. It’s about protecting what survives it too.”

Kaos didn’t look at him.

Krave moved in closer. “Whatever weapon you think you are? It belongs to her. And if she decides to use you to plant flowers and braid the boy’s hair, you better start sniffing daisies and learning to part straight lines.

” Krave watched his stone profile for a beat.

“Because if you don’t… I swear to all that dwells on high, we’ll pin you down and fuck the father into your pasty white ass with a cock made of fire and divine winds.

And I bet Reuban would happily use his servants touch to make sure you orgasm lullabies.

” He angled his head at him, silently daring him to resist.

Kaos finally turned his black eyes right on him as a flicker of something dark curled at the edge of his mouth. “You just got my cock hard.”

Krave’s grin came out to play as he eyed his brother before clapping him on the back. “ There’s the black bastard I love so dearly .”