Page 57 of The Lost Art of Revealing Hidden Truths (The Lost Arts #3)

Perian hadn’t… really thought that he would. But the rapid, visceral reaction had eased something inside of him.

“So I wasn’t behaving like a normal carnalion.”

Brannal was still watching him warily, like he thought Perian might not fully believe him. But slowly, he shook his head.

“Not at all, really. You stuck with me, and although you seemed to admire a lot of other people, you didn’t sleep with any of them. And you never drained me badly. Most of the time, I could barely tell.”

Perian swallowed. “But you still made sure someone was there to feed me when you were gone. Is that why you set up our play?”

Brannal shook his head, then frowned, and it turned into something that was more half a shrug. He blew out a frustrated breath.

“I can’t truthfully say that it had nothing to do with it, but it also wasn’t the primary motivator, either.

It was complicated. I thought that maybe I was imagining things and you were actually completely ordinary.

I certainly didn’t make up anything about Molun and Arvus and their enjoyment of a third, nor the fact that they were interested in you.

You must realize that if I thought you were dangerous, I would never have suggested it at all.

They’re my best friends. The day I suggested we play, I think it was genuinely because I thought that we would all enjoy it.

I knew they’d like it, and I’d discovered how much I liked the idea when you were involved. I think that’s all.”

“But not when you left.”

He hesitated for a moment, sighed, and admitted, “No. I wasn’t sure what would happen when I was gone. If you needed other people, I didn’t want—”

“—me to snap and start killing people?” Perian snapped.

“No!” Brannal said, sounding offended. “Of course not! You hadn’t shown yourself to be the least bit violent.

But I wasn’t sure if you needed sex the way I needed food and therefore if a week would be too long to go without it.

Since I wouldn’t be there and you might require it, I didn’t want you to have to get it behind my back.

I wouldn’t have liked that, and I didn’t think you would have liked it, either.

So I found what I thought was the perfect solution. ”

“But you didn’t like it,” Perian remembered. “You were unhappy after all. ”

Brannal shrugged. “It turns out I’m more possessive than I realized, like we already discussed. But it seemed we both felt the same way, and you figured out a way to not be alone that didn’t require having sex with anyone else. I just fell harder for you every day.”

Perian crossed his arms. “But not hard enough, apparently, to tell me the truth about what I was. You left a demon surrounded by demon hunters when you must have realized I didn’t know the truth.”

Brannal’s eyes flickered closed for a moment and then open again, and he nodded, something stark and bleak in his eyes.

“You’re right. It was a terrible and selfish thing to do.

But I convinced myself at first that it might not be true.

For every clue that I uncovered that said ‘yes’, there was another that said ‘no’.

If it wasn’t certain, I told myself that I shouldn’t mention it; imagine how awkward that would make everything.

No one else seemed to suspect anything. By the time I was pretty sure it had to be true, I didn’t want anything to change.

It was clear, as you said, that you didn’t know anything, and I worried about what might change if I told you, if you would leave .

I put you in danger because I was too selfish to risk letting you go.

I can’t apologize enough for that. I’m so sorry, Perian.

I know I’ve done a terrible job of showing it, but I love you, and I thought we were so wonderful together.

I wanted to keep you, which sounds terrible as I say it.

I should have gone about everything in a much more honest way. ”

Perian swallowed. He was still somewhat annoyed and frustrated, but he couldn’t exactly imagine what it would be like, trying to tell someone that they were probably a demon when they had no idea.

Perian’s heart also beat a little more firmly knowing that Brannal had wanted to keep him.

Maybe that was wrong of him, but it was there anyway.

Every example of how much the man wanted him warmed Perian’s heart and made him feel better, even if it was a bit asinine.

Perian had thought everything had changed when others had learned the truth, but it seemed like that wasn’t the case at all. What was Perian waiting for? What was he still not sure about?

“You didn’t want me to keep secrets from you,” Perian told him, “when I said I was tempted not to tell you the truth about the knife wound. And yet it seems that you kept plenty from me. About me, even.”

Brannal seemed to consider this seriously, pausing for a moment to think about it.

“You’re right,” he acknowledged. “I didn’t intend to treat you so differently than I wanted to be treated myself.

I apologize. I think it’s where my urge to protect has become overbearing.

It’s always my first instinct, to protect you, and I sometimes chose to obscure things as a result, instead of allowing you to make your own decisions.

I think I also convinced myself that making no changes or revelations was neutrality rather than me actively keeping something from you.

” He swallowed heavily, facing Perian squarely.

“I may not deserve it, but I would be forever grateful for the opportunity to do better. I promise you that I recognize the error of my ways and that I will do my best to never treat you like that again. Protection is a very ingrained habit, so I can’t promise I’ll never slip up, but I swear I will be conscious of it.

I’ll try always from this point forth to give you all the information and to trust you to make your own decisions.

” He offered a half smile, looking hopeful.

“I would love to do this right with you.”

Perian considered him for a moment, so hopeful and carefully telling Perian that he was going to try because that was more accurate than blithely promising he’d never mess up again.

Perian swallowed. “Does it really not bother you?”

Brannal looked inquiring.

Perian huffed a breath. “That I’m a demon . You hunt demons!”

“Oh, Perian,” Brannal said, the look in his eyes one that made Perian want to cry.

“It hasn’t mattered to me since about the second day of guessing it might somehow be true.

Because every moment that you’ve been with me, you’ve proved how it doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t define you, and it shouldn’t matter to anyone. ”

The tears slipped out and began to slide down Perian’s face.

“But you know that’s not true,” he protested. “It matters to a lot of people. It always will.”

“It matters to some people,” Brannal agreed, practically vibrating with what Perian was pretty sure was the urge to hug him.

“You’re right. It probably always will, to some.

But Cormal and the Queen went about their mission to cut you off for a reason.

They were afraid that you would have more support than they wanted, and they were right.

I’m the only one who came, dear heart, but I’m absolutely not the only one to offer.

I’ve got letters from so many of your friends, and people left these for you once they heard I was coming. ”

And Brannal pulled a handkerchief out of his coat and unfolded it, and Perian saw that it was full of little hearts, similar to the ones they’d made for him when he’d helped stop Venoran’s attack.

He started crying harder.

“Perian,” Brannal said, sounding pained. “Please.”

Perian reached for him, and with a sound of desperate relief, Brannal tugged Perian into his arms and wrapped him up securely, cradling him close and rocking him slightly from side to side, telling him that everything was going to be all right.

Perian cried and cried into Brannal’s chest, breathing in the scent of him, still not sure how everything could possibly be all right, but maybe it wasn’t the bleak abyss that it had seemed before Brannal had come.

Because Brannal had come. He’d been tricked, and he hadn’t been there when Perian needed him, but he’d come after him.

He hadn’t written a letter, and he certainly hadn’t decided to let sleeping dogs lie.

No, he’d come all the way out to Perian’s estate to try to explain, and he’d not seemed to assume that everything would be all right just because he’d shown up.

He’d known that he’d need to apologize and explain, and he’d known that it might not be enough.

He’d waited for Perian to make a decision, and even though Perian hadn’t been the most welcoming, he was still cuddling Perian up in his arms and wasn’t objecting to all the snot that was surely getting smeared all over his clothes.

He cried for a lot longer than was probably warranted by anything Brannal had said today, but he knew it was a culmination of all the terrible things that had happened, a lot of Perian’s fears and uncertainty, and a whole lot of pain from when he’d been driven out of what had begun to feel like home.

But it wasn’t his home, it couldn’t be, because the Queen of the country had banned him from the castle and from the city and wouldn’t let him leave his estate.

They needed to address that, obviously, because Brannal couldn’t be Summus here, and Perian couldn’t go there. Perian would accept visits; it would be so much better than what he’d thought he was going to be facing, but it wasn’t at all what he really wanted.

Still, though. It was so much better than it could have been, and maybe they didn’t have to talk about all the details of the future right now. Maybe Perian could concentrate on other things first.

He pulled back enough that he could see Brannal again. He sniffed. Brannal produced another handkerchief and handed it to Perian so he could wipe his face clean. He probably looked a mess.

“So,” he said.

“So,” Brannal agreed.

“Is it too early to give you a tour of my bedroom?”

Brannal just stared at him for a moment, and then a smile lit his face, and he tugged Perian back into his arms and kissed him, hard.

Perian fell into the kiss, melted into it wholeheartedly, wrapped his arms around the man, and when he hopped, Brannal caught him with a hand under his ass so that Perian could wrap his legs around him, too. Brannal deepened the kiss, or maybe it was Perian, and it was all lush heat and warmth and—

Perian pulled back. “You’re feeding me.”

“I hope so, dear heart, or I’m doing something wrong.”

“It really doesn’t bother you?”

“I’ve been having sex with you since shortly after knowing you,” Brannal pointed out. “I’ve been making love to you since not long after that.”

Perian huffed, a little amused by the distinction, but mostly touched.

Brannal continued, “I’ve known or suspected for most of that time that you were getting a little extra out of it. What you’re doing does no harm to me and is exactly what you need. It gives you pleasure and sustenance. Why wouldn’t I want to do that for the man I love?”

Perian sniffed again and leaned in to kiss him once more, a softer kiss, full of even more emotions. He could still feel that thrum of connection between them, the one that felt better than with anyone else.

It was definitely him who deepened the kiss this time, and Brannal happily went with the change in mood, hefting him tighter against his body, groaning into his mouth at all the delicious friction.

“Bedroom,” Perian managed to gasp out.

“Mm hm,” Brannal agreed. “Or… parlor?”

Perian managed a laugh against his lips. “No, I want you in the bed.”

So Brannal obediently strode to the door and managed to get it open despite still carrying Perian. Because he was that awesome and that strong, and Perian sighed happily .

“Where now?” he demanded.

This was, hands down, the stupidest and slowest way to get to Perian’s bedroom. It would have made much more sense for Perian to actually climb down and lead him to the bedroom. Or at least pay attention to where they were going.

Instead, he kept kissing Brannal and then offering half-hearted instructions, despite the fact that he was eager to get to the bedroom.

And Brannal kept kissing him back, somehow having enough limbs and functionality to stumble up the stairs, to go down the hall, to not knock into anything.

(All right, to not knock into too many things.) Until finally, Perian realized they’d made it to his door.

“Here, here!” he yelled triumphantly, like this was the most amazing thing they’d ever done.