13. Toby

I'd wanted to go along with Blaise to his first therapy appointment, but after he explained that would make it harder for him, I'd agreed to let him go alone. This was part of being his Dom though—I could insist and push in some areas, but ultimately his feelings came first. If my being there was going to cause him more anxiety rather than lessen it, then I was going to do as he asked.

He was coming straight over afterwards though, and I had plans for him. Blaise had earned a big reward by going to therapy, and I was going to give him the thing he'd been dropping hints about from since the beginning.

While he was at his appointment, I was holding yet another tasting for Lucky. I didn't begrudge doing this, not when it meant our human bartender was getting properly fed, but it did take a massive chunk out of my day. Today I kind of wished I was alone. I wasn't in the mood to be social, not knowing what Blaise was going through at this very moment.

I wasn't the only one around the table showing signs of frustration. Both Dagon and Dimitri looked as though they were chewing glass as their human mate pointedly ignored them. I had no idea what'd gone down between them, but Lucky was going to learn that there was little he could do to chase those two off.

I tried to hide my irritation, but from the looks Harlow shot me every few minutes, I wasn't doing a great job. So as not to make Lucky suspicious, various supes in our little group had been joining us every day. It had the added bonus of integrating Lucky with the rest of us.

It was why I'd invited Blaise to join us too, not that I'd been successful. The reality was he wouldn't feel comfortable with everyone else until he spent time with them.

I was loading the plates into the dishwasher when I spotted Harlow sitting on the counter, his legs swinging. He was sipping from a takeaway coffee cup and studying me closely.

Sighing, I finished loading the machine before turning to face him. "Sitting there isn't very sanitary."

Harlow sniffed. "My arse is clean, thank you very much."

Fuck it, I'd rather wipe it down after he left than get drawn into his flawed logic. Harlow wasn't one to argue with unless you'd had several coffees and a hill you were prepared to die on. "What's up?"

"That's what I came here to ask you."

I leaned on the worktop opposite, crossing my arms over my chest. "Nothing's up with me, unless you count my mild irritation about the cleaning you're adding to my to-do list."

"Please. During the tasting, you checked your watch six times and your phone a staggering thirteen."

"You counted? That's weird."

Harlow shrugged. "Bailey's at the gym and I was bored. Besides, I smell gossip, so spill."

I studied him for a minute, trying to decide what to do. I wasn't about to hide Blaise from anyone, but his history with Harlow was complicated, to say the least.

When I didn't speak for another minute, Harlow sighed dramatically. "Come on, Toby. I know you're fucking Blaise. I think I deserve to know what's going on."

For a second, I was speechless.

Harlow cleared his throat, putting his coffee cup down. "Listen, I'm never going to be Blaise's biggest fan, but if you're together…"

"How did you find out?"

Harlow snorted. "Bitch, please. First there was the protective way you both behaved the night River was kidnapped. Then Blaise kept turning up at the bar at all hours and doing nothing except staring at you. Now you're all distracted and smiling down at your phone whenever you get a notification. Even if I wasn't smarter than the rest of you combined, I'd be able to put the pieces together."

I guessed we hadn't exactly been subtle. "Fine. We're…involved."

"Is he your mate?"

I was shaking my head before he even finished his question. "No. Vamps and mages don't have fated mates, remember?"

He pursed his lips, studying me like a predator about to pounce. "But he could be, if you both chose it."

"It's not like that. We're not in a relationship. It's…complicated. And I like you, Harlow. I do. But there's nothing you can say or do to change how I feel about Blaise. I get that there's a history there?—"

Harlow stilled, his demon flickering in his eyes as the metal under my hands heated to near scalding levels. "A history? He killed my mate. Then he fucking ran."

I winced, holding my hands up in a sign of peace. "And I'm not excusing that, Low. What Blaise did was fucked up."

"Fucked up? It's not like he forgot to pay a bill or slept with someone he shouldn't. Bailey died because of him. He stalked him, threatened him, fought him, and then left him bleeding out on the floor. He deserves to fucking suffer every damn day after what he did."

"You think he doesn't know that?" I shoved off the counter, my own temper climbing. Harlow might've been the one in front of me, but Blaise was the one I was seeing. Him sobbing after his nightmare. Insisting that he was worthless. That he shouldn't be alive.

Harlow hopped off the counter, squaring up to me as I continued. "That's what had him running into the bar every night after he met me. It wasn't nightmares about the ghasts torturing him keeping him up at night. They were all about Bailey. All of them. Believe me, Harlow. No one can hate Blaise for what he did more than he does, not even you."

Harlow bared his teeth. Flames wreathed his wrists but I didn't so much as blink. "Wanna fucking bet?"

"What Blaise did was wrong. But he did it because he was trying to find a way to protect his brother. Are you going to honestly stand here and tell me you wouldn't do the same if the situation was reversed?"

The flames dimmed, but Harlow didn't back down. "I would've stayed to face the damned consequences, that's for sure."

"Fuck off, would you. If you knew that there were four supes heading your way, you'd be running like your arse was on fire. Especially if you believed you were the only one who could protect your brother."

The door to the kitchen banged open and a loud sigh filled the air. "Low, what did you do now?"

Harlow's head snapped around, and it was like a switch had been flipped. His anger and flames vanished as his mate appeared. "Why d'you always assume it's me?"

Bailey shot me a curious glance as he strolled across the kitchen and pulled Harlow into a rough embrace. "Baby, I love you, but it's always you."

Harlow grumbled but didn't argue, instead pulling Bailey down for a thorough kiss. When it continued long enough for me to get uncomfortable, I cleared my throat. Loudly.

They broke apart, Bailey looking sheepish while Harlow looked like the cat who'd got the cream.

"Look, I'm not asking you to forgive Blaise," I said. "But you need to find a way to move on. If you can't try for Blaise, can you try for me? I won't compromise, Harlow, not about him."

"Wait." Bailey's eyes narrowed as he pulled back to glare at Harlow. "That's what you're arguing about?"

Harlow winced. "Umm…"

"Because I thought we agreed we had forgiven Blaise." Bailey folded his arms over his chest, glaring down at his tiny mate. "In fact, you told me you were going to speak to Toby today and tell him to stop hiding his very obvious relationship with him. That we wanted to find a way for Blaise to feel comfortable as part of the group."

My eyebrows shot up. That was very much not the impression I'd got.

"Well it started that way." Harlow pouted up at Bailey. "But then I got all…"

"Demony?" Bailey supplied.

"Fine. Yes. I can't help it, it's literally what I am."

"It's okay," I interjected. "Seriously, I get it. I don't have a mate, but I'd find it hard in your situation too. But look at it from my point of view. If Bailey had fucked up, and had given up on life as a result, wouldn't you want to stop it?"

It wasn't Harlow who reacted, but Bailey. "Given up on life?"

Shit. "I didn't mean to say that."

"But he has?" Bailey persisted, blowing out a breath and shaking his head. "I don't like that."

"How Blaise feels isn't your responsibility," Harlow said before wincing and lifting his hand to his breastbone. "Fuck, okay. I'm sorry. Pretend I didn't say that."

Watching the supes with mating bonds communicate without words was fascinating. The bridge between them meant they could read each other's emotions. Whatever Bailey had felt in response to Harlow's words had hit his mate hard.

Bailey didn't look away from Harlow, but I got the impression he was speaking aloud for my benefit. "I watched Oscar become a different person after going through a traumatic event."

"That trauma wasn't his fault," Harlow countered.

"Trauma is trauma," Bailey said. "At the end of the day, the result is the same. I'm here. We're together. Everything is fine with us. I don't like that another person is suffering because of something involving me. I don't want anyone feeling like they don't deserve to be here. So you're going to let this go. Actually let it go, Low. For me."

I pretended to find the floor incredibly interesting as the rawness of the moment filled the air.

"Okay," Harlow said eventually.

Relief rushed over me. Blaise would never fit in with everyone else unless Harlow was on board. "Thank you."

Harlow's gaze was withering. "I'm not doing it for you."

"I know, but thank you anyway. This means a lot to me. It's important to me that Blaise is happy. Him being happy will make me happy. You're a good friend, Harlow. If you could get on board with him, you'd be the best friend."

Harlow broke away from Bailey with a huff. "Why'd you have to go and say that? You know I have to be the best, damnit. You're not playing fair."

I winked at him, giving Bailey a thankful pat on the shoulder. "When do any of us ever play fair?"