Chapter 37

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Real men cut onions.

"You know your way around the kitchen," Kassandra's mother—whose name Pollux still did not know—said. She smiled as she put tortellini in one pot. "I take it you cook at home?"

On some level, Pollux felt as though he were being tested, but Kassandra didn't seem troubled as she sat nearby and crocheted another frog. "I started cooking recently," he said as he chopped vegetables for the soup.

"Oh? Only recently? Why's that?"

He tempered his tendency to swear. "My…friend dropped off a newborn unseelie with me a few months ago, and he struggles with food. I did not want him to starve, and I did not want to put the responsibility of feeding him on my daughter."

The woman's eyes widened. "Who's taking care of the infant if you're here and you don't want to put his care on your daughter?"

"Many fae aren't born as infants, and many don't have anything to resemble a parent. Physically and mentally, he's in his mid twenties."

"But he's still a picky eater?"

Pollux's chest tightened, and he was uncertain exactly how much longer he would be able to navigate this unplanned excursion. He'd had no time to prepare or discuss expectations with Willow, and now Kassandra's mother was calling Alexios picky as though food didn't make him cry regularly. "He is a breed of unseelie that senses everything in far more detail than many humans can relate to. For him, flavors and textures can be so overwhelming they are painful. It took him some time to figure out how to make clothes that didn't feel like sandpaper. Occasionally, he has breakdowns concerning the way his hair feels, but he can't tolerate the prickle when it's cut, so he keeps it long and braided. Similarly, he wears gloves both to protect his hands from needing to touch things directly and to keep the nails he can't stand the sensation of cutting from hurting himself."

"My word," Kassandra's mother whispered. "You have to keep him in a box… How is that any life for anyone?"

Within two weeks of existence, Alexios had met more people than Pollux had within the past century. The human definition of box was very strange. "He manages."

"Poor thing. I suppose it's good he never went through childhood years. He would have been so bullied."

Pollux paused chopping carrots and watched the woman for a moment.

He knew humans bullied one another, often. He regularly crafted nightmares that assisted children in processing terrible events centered around bullying.

However, within Cael's domain, bullying was not tolerated. Beyond his domain, only an idiot would mess with a yamachichi. Misconduct against one of Alexios's kind resulted in the granting of unspoken permission. With a scrap of that leeway, Alexios could take whatever he wanted from anyone.

Ultimately, explaining all of this was socialization that Pollux had not prepared for mentally.

Thereby, he grunted and dumped the chopped carrots into the soup.

"Kass tells us you two are married," the woman continued.

Pollux's heart skipped a beat. "Yes."

"Quite an unusual course of events…" she murmured. "Such a shame we weren't able to plan a wedding. Many of Kass's relatives would have loved to be there. It is odd to me that neither I nor Kass's father are fae. How exactly does that work?"

"Fae blood can present itself in many different ways. Or not. Most often, humans with it don't realize since it's not normally something a human can access. You and your husband may very well have fae blood; however, Kassandra falls among the rare few who find their way back to Faerie."

"What sort of faerie is she?"

"The kind who creates a world for herself when this one seems much too small. The kind who creates, simply because creation is necessary for her survival. The kind who creates, in order to fulfill a desire for control and a need for order among blissful chaos."

"That sounds dreadfully enchanting."

Pollux found Kassandra as she death-stared at the rapidly-forming frog in her hands. "She is."

"This is all happening very suddenly. I understand why Kass wants to be in a space that can help her understand things like crying glitter…but she's only known you a few months. Fae married or otherwise, moving in together seems like a big step. Emotionally."

"Mom," Kassandra snapped, face blistering. "I'll have my own room. Emotionally we're taking things slow."

Kassandra's mother's lip jutted. "That's what they all say, but the second you're under the same roof, things happen quickly. It's just how it is. When you spend all your free time with someone, you get closer more rapidly than when you have the constraints of living apart with more limited interaction. Besides. You're married." The woman sniffed, pretentiously. "Married to a nice, strong, attractive man who cooks. Anything could happen. Were I in your shoes, I'd encourage it."

Kassandra's eyes narrowed. "My skankiness comes from you."

"What?"

Dropping her attention, Kassandra—quite properly—returned to crocheting faster than Pollux could comfortably perceive. "Nothing," she mumbled. "Just marveling at my genetics."

Suspiciously, her mother hummed.

Before Pollux could figure out exactly what was unnerving him, Aaron entered the room. Stopping near him with the folder of faerie facts Pollux had made in hand, Kassandra's father said, "It says in here that faeries can't lie?"

"Correct."

"Do you love Kasserole?"

Kasserole…?

Oh.

Right.

Pollux had heard the nickname used before at Thanksgiving. Kassandra Role. Shortened. Endearingly.

"Yes. I love Kassandra."

"You'll take care of her?"

Pollux straightened himself. "I will take care of her with every fiber of my being, sparing nothing that would see to her joy."

Aaron nodded and turned his attention to his daughter. "You're sure about this? Your mother's right. Whatever your current intentions are, things can change once you're in closer quarters. If you change your mind or things don't work out the way you expect, you'll always have a place here, but emotionally there will be an impact."

Kassandra's gaze flicked to Pollux and dragged away. "You and Mom have shown me what love looks like, how it grows through the choices and decisions we make. I'm sure about this. I'm sure I won't regret whatever happens, even if it happens on a different timeline than I expect. I'm sure that Pollux is the kind of man who cares deeply about those he's let in. He's the kind of man who wants to do right by the ones he cares for without letting shame stop him from admitting when he doesn't understand. He is the kind of man I want in a partner."

Pollux's chest contorted as his wife's words sank into his flesh and heated him from the inside out.

He loved her.

So much.

He had waited so long to be wanted like this, as someone's partner.

In horrible contrast, the way he wanted her was beginning to make it hard to breathe in front of her parents, and anything could happen was beginning to sound like a cruel promise.

Aaron flipped the folder closed and tucked it under his arm as he approached his daughter. "Am I allowed to thank you for gaining the courage to tell us all of this, or are you too fae for that, Kasserole?"

More tears filled Kassandra's eyes as she set her yarn behind her in the chair and rose to meet her father in a hug. "I don't know. I don't think I can steal souls yet. I wouldn't take yours even if I could, though."

Aaron chuckled as he squeezed her. "Don't be silly. You robbed me of that old thing the moment I first held you." He kissed her hair. "I'm proud of you."

"For what?" her voice cracked.

"For trusting us with a place in your life even as you enter an entirely new world."

Pollux's heart twisted, and he turned back to his empty cutting board. He stared down at the bare wood—lost.

Kassandra's mother set an onion down in front of him and smiled when he accidentally met her eye. "Many fae have nothing to resemble a parent; was that the case for you as well?"

He swallowed emotions he was not ready to place at this time. "Yes."

"Well," she touched his back, "I suppose it's a little late, but feel free to call me Mom."

Pollux's tears weren't as pretty as Kassandra's, but his mom held him through them all the same.

?

"Phew," I blow out a breath as I step outside into the cold with two cups of hot chocolate—and the entire bag of mini vegan marshmallows. My parents' bare fenced-in backyard is wholly uninteresting, but the sky…the sky with Pollux beneath it makes it the most beautiful scene in the entire world. "We survived dinner," I say as I sit on the cold slab of concrete patio beside him and offer him his mug.

Taking it, he watches me situate the bag of marshmallows in my lap. Silent.

"Want one?" I ask.

His head shakes.

"Is everything okay?"

His gaze falls to the steam pouring out of his mug, and he frees a breath. "Yes."

"Is okay one of those words that doesn't mean anything to the fae?"

The touch of a curve lightens the corner of his mouth. "Yes."

"Could you answer me as though I've asked the right question?"

Instead of answering me, he leans his big body toward me and plants a slightly chilled kiss against my cheek.

My fingers flex into the marshmallows. "What…was that for?"

"Not even five years ago, I lived alone and relied on alcohol as a means to fend off the constant ache of loneliness in my soul in between the brief moments when Pila or Cael would visit me. I've never liked the way it felt, burning down the back of my throat. Some of it tastes good, but a lot more is awful." His attention lifts, and I see starlight in the inky blacks of his eyes. "In a way, I guess it was self harm. A pain I could control. Something to fill the static." His eyes close. "Now, I have Meda. And Willow. And Alexios. You. Your parents." His jaw locks as a swallow moves his throat. "I have a family." He rakes his fingers back through his hair. "I'm overwhelmed by how quickly things can change. It's like you've said. Good or bad, change is still a lot to take in."

Involuntarily, my entire body gravitates toward his until my shoulder touches his arm and my head rests against him. "I'm glad you understand. I'm sorry you're overwhelmed right now." My heart jumps, and I pull away. "I probably shouldn't be touching you if you're—"

His large arm moves, dragging me in against him, holding me steady against his side as his nose and lips press into the top of my head. "You are a piece of me. My skin will never flinch at your touch."

Heat soars up from my hot chocolate to bathe my face. "This is really happening, huh?"

"This?"

"Moving in together. Being soulmates. Being…husband and wife. Eventually, at least."

He swears softly as he lifts his mug to his lips. "I hope so. I want you in my life. I want to see you unravel at the seams." He exhales a laugh into his drink. "I want to pull threads."

"You want a front-row seat to watch me fall apart?"

He glances my way, smiling. "Absolutely."

My heart shakes as I pop a mini marshmallow in my mouth. "You really are a beast, dreamboy." I clear my throat. "Hey. Could you…" I lose all my nerve.

"If I can, yes. Anything."

Even though it's frigid out here, I don't feel a lick of the icy wind. "My parents are in bed, right? They didn't lie to us after dinner when they said they were going to bed, right? If I turn around, I'm not going to see them pressed to the sliding glass door and watching us, right?"

"They are on the other side of the house, talking about us."

My nose scrunches.

"Your father thinks I'm a nice boy." Pollux's brows rise, and he muffles his words in his hot chocolate. "I'm not going to repeat what your mother is saying."

That is absolutely for the best.

My shoulders relax. "Could you change forms?"

"Into what?"

I nudge him. "You…know. Monster Pollux."

"Are you going to put marshmallows on my claws?"

Blinking down at the bag, I contemplate that. "Well. Now I might." My eyes meet his. "You don't want to?"

Slowly, darkness bleeds from his eyes to stretch across his cheeks. Setting his mug aside, he lifts my face in his clawed hand. "I want to be whatever it is you want me to be." His nails prick my skin, so present yet so gentle. "Tell me, dearest, how much do I have to pretend to become that person?"

Lifting a fingertip, I trace his skin. The stillness of winter's approach wraps around me, but right here, it's very warm. "You don't."

"Are you sure?"

"I… Yeah. I'm sure."

Lifting my face, he presses a kiss to my neck. "I love you."

My skin buzzes, but I am somewhat poor at this, so all I can whisper is a very, very elegant, "…smash."

Pollux laughs, caving into me. His body rocks mine as his nails hook in my clothes.

I tilt my blazing face back. "No, sorry. Crap. I messed up. Let me try again. I…to you…also. I think. Probably."

Pulling back, Pollux fixes me with a fang-filled grin. "Hush," he murmurs. "You're perfect." He kisses my nose. "I can wait for as long as it takes, until telling me is as simple as breathing. Until your humanity erodes, leaving behind nothing but the bare truth of your words." His thumb, so carefully, skates beneath my eye. "I can wait."

"Haven't you waited long enough?" I whisper.

"For you to exist, yes."

My lips silently echo those words.

Curling around me while my brain is still processing, Pollux rests his head against my shoulder and holds me. "I don't mind a bit of a chase. It makes catching you more fun."

I sink my fingers into his hair. "Does it now?"

"Mm."

"Are you falling asleep now that you've given me tachycardia? After all the caffeine you just had?"

He chuckles. Snuggles. And doesn't reply.

I stuff an entire handful of marshmallows in my mouth. "Beast."

"I still have that library," he murmurs.

"You watched the movie."

"I watched the movie. Willow let me put the streaming service on my phone, and I watched the movie, and I am investing in the rolling ladders. Willow said they were important. And also that she's going to skin me alive for not telling her I had a library in my house. I believe she was making a joke."

My eyes roll. Uh. Yeah. She better be, otherwise we'll be having some words. "Are you eighty-seven percent sure?" I snark.

He makes a low sound, then—disturbingly—says, "Skin grows back."

Time passes beneath the stars. Half a marshmallow bag disappears as I sip my hot chocolate and feel the comforting weight of Pollux against me.

One week.

In just one week, I'll move into his house.

I'll collect quiet moments like this one, where I remember what it feels like to exist.

I'll learn more about who I am, then what I am, and all that comes with being fae.

In just one week, everything will change.