12. Roan

Roan

"Are we going to have a repeat of this morning, Roan? Because I swear to the Gods, I am not hiring new staff because you can't keep your shit together." The tray of clean glasses rattles precariously as Mauvy slams them onto the bar top for me to stack away, ready for the night shift.

I grimace, not looking at my long-time best friend, completely ashamed of my behaviour. It's been three days since Theo and I had sex at the cottage, and every day, I've wavered between standing solid in my decision that pursuing whatever this is between us is a no good, terrible, and bad idea, and throwing caution to the wind and going for it, come what may.

Right now, I just want to see him. Even if it is just so I can know that he's okay.

He's been hiding in his room. Tor was devastated when he'd come to drop Theo's things to him, only to find Theo wrapped up in his little nest again. He asked if I knew what happened.

Mauvy, who didn't know but had some pretty accurate guesses, had stared me down, her thick glasses magnifying her scowl. I'd chickened out of saying anything. I mean, how did you tell a guy that you fooled around with his brother and then accidentally triggered a depressive episode?

Probably not like that, anyway.

I stammered and hesitated until Seff, who'd been catching up with some friends over on the other side of the tavern, had seen my wide-eyed panic and came to my rescue. Again. He'd sauntered over to join us, pinching both Caelan and Tor on the butt for attention, gathered them in his arms and redirected the conversation to their trip to the city.

I comped Seff's drinks for the rest of the night, right before he warned me, in a tone I'd never heard from him before, to fix my shit with Theo or else . I'd seen a flash of his wolf in his eyes when he'd spoken, the threat antagonising that beastly feeling I'd been battling with ever since Theo had come into my life.

Jealousy and anger flared that he was protecting Theo, my Theo and I'd come close—far too close—to hauling off and punching Seff right in his pretty jaw. The last threads of my common sense held me back, but they were only fragile little strings now after days of irritation and frustration at the situation with Theo.

For three days, I have been lashing out at everyone, snarling and snapping at my employees. My control over the berserker side of me is slipping as its compulsion towards Theo grows more agitated.

The beast had been sated at least, seeing him slip down the stairs with Seldon before they'd headed out earlier. I'd seen them through the window on the kitchen door. They'd been laughing together. I couldn't hear about what, but the sight of Theo with his head thrown back, giggling with his new friend, had soothed something inside me. Not a lot, but enough that I could focus without the haze of violent anger clouding the edges of my vision.

"I honestly don't know, Mauvy… I'm sorry. I really am. I shouldn't have unleashed on Woodsy this morning."

I finish stacking the glasses back into their place under the bar and stand, squeezing my eyes shut until the colours burst behind my lids and run my fingers over my beard, pulling at it lightly. "I'm just-"

"Completely torn up by the kid?" I open my eyes to thin slits and glare at her, mouth pulled into a tight frown.

"Don't call him that."

Mauvy snorts at me, rolling her eyes and turns towards the kitchens. I follow, along behind her, her hooves clattering on the flagstone tiles.

"That's what you're focusing on there?" She clocks the blush hiding behind my thick beard and shakes her head, jumping up on the stool at her work table and pulling a bowl close to her to tip the dough out onto the table, kneading it with her small but incredibly strong hands.

She ignores me pointedly, working the dough, shaping it into loaves and moving onto the next bowl. She moves along with her dinner prep in silence.

This is a time-honoured tactic of hers, her patience absolutely endless because she knows the pressure will eventually get to me, and I will spill everything. I can already feel it, the burgeoning impulse to tell her the whole sorry tale. My hands drum on the bench, ringing out through the otherwise empty kitchen. Hildy is resetting outside, and the other kitchen staff are on their breaks before it all starts again. Mauvy likes to prep on her own in peace—the kitchen is her domain, the food her magic. It's a faun thing.

From across the workbench, she unpacks the vegetables for dinner. I groan loudly and throw my head back, sliding out one of the stools tucked under the prep bench and slumping into it in defeat.

" Fine . We messed around at the cottage the other day, and I reacted badly…"

Mauvy says nothing, but the metallic ring of the long and extremely sharp knife she pulls out to chop the carrots probably says enough. I wince as she bluntly cuts the tip of one particularly large carrot while holding eye contact.

"Yeah. I know."

I scrub my face with my hand again, trying to get hold of my racing thoughts. Like, how can I tell her everything without coming out like a giant jackass? "I didn't mean to, it was just… intense. And he's so… There is just something about him that makes me a little crazy." At this she snorts, rolling her lips into her teeth like she is trying her best to contain her smile. Or her comments.

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up." I wave her off.

"I know. I've not been myself since we got back. It was just finding him there on that table, Mauv. He was so broken . I thought he was dead." My head drops to the cool surface, the sudden chill anchoring me in the present while the memories of that day tease at the corner of my mind.

Another steadying breath and Mauvy's hand on my shoulder, patting comforting circles brings me back.

"It did something to me to see him like that. I just felt this… compulsion towards him."

"Obsession more like, from what I've heard," Mauvy whispers under her breath, and I only hear because she's so close.

"Not going to lie to you, Mauvy," because I've never been able to, not even when we were tiny kids playing together on the grassy grounds of the tavern hunting butterflies, "you're not wrong. Whenever he's not around, I get this anxious feeling under my skin. It just gets worse and more intense until I get this feral feeling built up, and I explode. And it's not even any better when he's around. It's like… he's opened up this side of myself that I'd always been able to keep under control."

"Because you see him as a victim? Because he was hurt?" Her words rankle, echoing too closely to those spat at me by Theo himself. I shake my head, tucking loose strands that escaped their bun behind my ear, my eyes trained out the back window of the kitchens, unfocused.

"No, definitely not." But then I tilt my head, eyes focused on the corner of the kitchen, considering those first couple of days.

"Maybe. At first. But that wasn't all of it. I saw him, flashes of the real him as we made our way home. He is far more resilient than he gives himself credit for. Funny too. And so fucking sassy. He just never gives me an inch. I like it."

I finally turn to Mauvy and wink at her, she rolls her eyes, giving my shoulder one last pat before returning to her prep.

"I don't think I feel like I need to protect him because he's some victim." I pause. "No matter what he thinks." Mauvy raises her eyebrow but lets me continue without interrupting, chopping and peeling with practised efficiency. "I want to protect him because he feels like mine ."

Even without turning to face her, I know she is staring at me hard, her eyes boring into the side of my head like she is trying to burrow into my skull. "Roan, are you certain ? That boy has been through enough-"

"I know Mauvy. I know . Shit, what we all went through in the Woods was enough. I don't think Seff is quite over it yet, either. Tor sure as shit isn't. But Theo obviously copped the worst, Mauvy. He needs time , to heal, to figure out what he wants. Not to be-"

"Thrown over your shoulder and carried off to the nearest bed to shag until you both pass out from dehydration?" Mauvy cuts in with a bark of laughter at her own joke. I flip her off and scrunch my nose up at her.

"No, well, yes . But I don't have the space in my life for a mate. I have the tavern. I have you …"

Mauvy rolls her eyes, carrying too many bowls into the small basement that acts as a cool room for the tavern. There is silence for a moment until she reappears, looking exasperated with me.

"Yes, that does sound like a very full life there, Roan. Absolutely no space for a partner or someone to stand by your side or warm your bed. Absolutely chock-a-block full." The sarcasm drips from her like honey.

"I'm too old for him, Mauvy. He's got his whole life ahead of him; he has been through all of this shit and lost his gift. He is going through this massive traumatic life event where everything he's ever known has been ripped from him all at once; he has infinite possibilities ahead of him. It's not the time for me to go all domineering berserker weirdo on him."

Mauvy lays both hands wide on the table, fixing me in place with a knowing look over the rim of her glasses. "You're making excuses, Roan. And shit ones at that. I get it, you're scared of hurting him more than he has been. Maybe he doesn't need everything right now, Roan. But he does need a friend. And if you can keep your berserker instincts in check—like I know you can—and your dick in your pants, that might get to be you."

I swallow the hard lump in my throat. Friend . The feral voice in my head rebels at the idea, pushing me to do something irrevocably stupid, like pick up that idea that Mauvy had a moment ago about just throwing him over my shoulder and locking us in my little house until we were too drunk on cum to think.

But I think I can do friendship. It's what I'd been trying for until he snuck up on me while I was resting and traced those delicate fingers all over my tattoos, right the way up to my cock. I nod resolutely at Mauvy, who gives me a tight mouthed smile in return, eyes full of sympathy.

Friends it is, then.

***

To my great disappointment Theo doesn't come down to join me at the bar later that evening. He'd snuck in while I was serving, arms loaded down with an insane amount of bags, the happiest smile I'd ever seen plastered on his face.

Jealousy churned in my gut that I hadn't been the one to put that smile on his face, but whenever it rises, I just continue the constant litany of "just friends" in my head. It hasn't sunk in yet, but I am hoping. Instead, I work my shift, resolutely keeping my temper in check, one eye constantly on the stairs, the other firmly closed against the sympathetic looks thrown my way by the staff and patrons until I finally close the bar in the dark hours of the morning.

***

It's well into the afternoon when I make my way to the cottage. One of the only real drags of running the tavern is the strange work hours. The place basically consumes my life, Mauvy's too, especially since we live on the property. We're often up all night and sleep away the mornings.

Since Mauvy had moved mainly to the kitchens, she managed to wrangle a more normal sleeping schedule, but mine was still subject to the whims of closing time. I try to not roster the others on close too often, even though we're probably at the point of needing more staff and giving some of the regulars more responsibilities. Maybe we could free up more time for ourselves?

The door is unlocked, the knob surprising me as it twists easily in my hand, swinging open to reveal the loud grunts and thuds coming from upstairs. I cautiously approach the stairs, but they creak under my heavy frame - the boards in need of replacing - warning whoever is there of my presence.

I don't know who I was expecting, considering there is little chance of it being anyone but him or Seff, but I'm startled when Theo's head pops out the second bedroom doorway, stubbing my toe on the stairs when I stumble. The sharp stabbing pain in my big toe immediately lessens when he smiles brightly at me, highlighting the dark smudges under his eyes.

Theo only pauses for a quick hello before ducking back into the second bedroom where he is working on stripping back the carpets. The musty grey rolls are all stacked neatly in the corner where he'd cut them into manageable rolls to be hauled downstairs, so I silently grab the first one and started carrying them down.

We work in silence for the rest of the afternoon, pulling the room apart until I have to go get myself cleaned up for work. I don't want to leave him and linger pathetically in the door as we say our goodbyes.

He seems completely unbothered by my leaving, waving at me and calling " seeyalater !" over his shoulder before pulling at a loose skirting board to inspect the damage.

At least he's not upset with me anymore. He's happy, that's what matters . I try to convince myself that I am perfectly fine with his apparent moving on. It's a good thing, right? My feet thundering down the stairs is just because I'm in a rush, so is that tight feeling in my chest. Not because of what might be the cause of him being so happy with our totally platonic working relationship.

By the time I get myself cleaned up and behind my bar, I still haven't been able to successfully gaslight myself into being okay with him being okay. But I do manage to wrangle my emotions into lockdown enough to be able to play the friendly barkeeper role.

I only catch a flash of him, late in the evening, covered head to toe in dust and dirt. He smiles at me briefly, the same one he gives Seldon or any of the others, not the pretty, flirty smile I'd gotten so used to, waving across the tavern on his way up the stairs.

I keep an eye on the stairs for the rest of the night, enduring the constant ribbing of the regulars who were more like friends. My attention hasn't escaped their notice, and they all like Theo, trying to include him and make him welcome wherever they can. Whether or not Theo knows it, he is a being of the Whisper Woods now, and the other beings here have his back.

Theo doesn't make his way back down. I finish closing the place out and lock the doors to make my lonely way back to my cottage, keeping an eye out for the light in his window. But his curtains are drawn, the lights seemingly off for the night.

The week continues in the same pattern. I try to make it to the cottage by midday, bringing the lunch Mauvy has waiting. We eat quickly, and I help out with whatever project he's already started until I have to leave to shower and get ready for my evenings in the tavern.

At least, as the week progresses, the uneasy silence slowly disappears until we are back to chatting and laughing easily as we work side by side, peeling the ugly, aged wallpaper from the walls, sanding down the window sills, patching holes and what feels like constantly cleaning.

Despite the conversation flowing freely between us again, there are obvious boundaries we're both wary to cross. And you never seem to know when you're stepping on a landmine.

I tell him stories about growing up here with Mauvy. He still doesn't believe me that Mauvy and I used to love to party back in the "olden days" as he likes to call them. He certainly didn't believe me when I told him that Mauvy used to be a known rave queen until I managed to dig out an old photo from one of our many nights out.

I don't miss the sliver of envy that sneaks into his voice when I tell him the stories of our old partying days. It only hardens my resolve not to tie him down. Tie him to me.

Theo, I've noticed, is an expert at sharing a lot without sharing absolutely anything. Even after the stories of growing up in his castle-like mansion with his nannies, and all his studies at the university, it still feels like I know nothing about him other than the things I've learnt since we met.

No matter what we talk about, though, we keep the conversation safe. Especially after we waded too far into the topic of Radomir, specifically book ten, where he grew up a bit and dealt with a particularly lecherous ghost.

Theo had blushed prettily, the heat in his cheeks making the gold of his freckles shine like a beacon before he'd dropped the screwdriver he'd been using onto his toe. We'd avoided the topic entirely after that.

Thankfully, it's hot and sweaty work, and Theo has needed help getting the hang of some things, so we've managed to fill the time and find things to keep our hands busy. A distraction I've sorely needed.

Theo picks it all up relatively quickly, especially for someone who swore up and down that he isn't built for manual labour. His favourite jobs involve anything to do with demolition and destruction.

The third bedroom has an old built-in wardrobe, the wood warped beyond repair. Well, it did. I'd left him to happily destroy the thing with a sledgehammer while I sanded back window sills in another room.

It really looked like he was working through some things.

He has started joining me in the evenings down at the bar again, too. The first night he came down, Seldon had unfortunately caught the giddy smile that had taken over my face before I could catch it. The cheeky shit slid behind the bar where'd I'd been pulling beers to hip check me and tease me about being a little too obvious.

I'd whipped his butt with my tea towel, but he'd only laughed a little too loudly, catching Theo's attention entirely on purpose and slunk away, swishing his hips sassily. I'd rolled my eyes at his antics, Seldon had always been a bit of a flirt, but he was harmless. It didn't stop me puffing up my chest a little when I saw Theo shooting daggers at his new friend.

That night, Theo plonked himself on a stool right in the middle of the bar, claiming a new seat, no longer hiding in his corner. It's where he sits now every night for dinner. Which is great, but him coming down earlier means we don't get to catch up. He still has his books, my books, and it looks like he is nearing the end of the series, but he is often distracted by other guests roping him into a friendly chat.

Theo and I still have to have that chat, as Mauvy likes to remind me at every opportunity she finds. She even has Edith in on the act too; the two are a deadly combination when they team up and I've taken to dodging them wherever I can. Which is nearly impossible considering Mauvy and I both live at the Black Stump.

I get their point, but honestly, I am a little frightened of rocking the boat. Whatever has changed Theo's opinion—and I am pretty sure a sassy red-headed fox shifter is the cause—we've managed to come to a good place after our fight. Even if having him so tantalisingly close without being able to touch him is doing untold damage to my nervous system. Spending all day everyday half hard at the bare minimum can't be good for my health.

And Theo is even starting to look a little healthier. Between Mauvy's cooking and the physical labour, he'd started to fill out his slight frame a little more, losing the gaunt, undernourished look he'd had since his rescue.

If only those dark smudges under his eyes and general air of exhaustion could be healed, too. Occasionally, I find him distracted, staring off into the distance with a haunted kind of look in his eyes, but I am too scared to break the fragile truce between us to broach it with him.

Instead, I just try to distract him where I can. I am itching to ask Seldon about it, or even Seff.

Seff has been true to his word, popping by whenever he can to help out and show Theo the things I can't. The two of them seem to be growing close, something I am diligently trying to not to be a dick about.

Theo having friends here is a good thing; he deserves to have all the love and friendship in the world. Even if it means I want to punch my friend in his too-handsome jaw whenever I see them laughing together over dinner after working together on our cottage.

His cottage. Theo's.

Not ours.

After another couple of weeks of sanding, scrubbing, painting, patching, and our tenuous friendship with absolutely no touching - no matter how much my hands have blissfully reached in his direction of their own accord - Seff announced two nights ago that he had time to replace the decayed thatched roof of the cottage.

He arrived just after sunrise this morning to set up the scaffolding with one of his crew. A brutal time to be awake by any estimation, but worse when I'd been up ‘til the wee hours. I hadn't worked the close, but it had still been a late one.

Spring has begun its descent into summer, and the days are getting stiflingly hot. Still, that doesn't stop Theo, Seldon, Edith, and me from hovering around the back of the tavern to watch as a shirtless Seff lifts the bundles onto the scaffold. Edith whistles and catcalls obnoxiously when he uses his impressive upper body strength to haul himself up onto another level.

"Gods, that man is glorious ." Seldon is nearly panting as he snaps open his large fan dramatically, waving it in front of him. Theo snickers in agreement, his eyes following Seff with absolute precision, his pink lip caught between his teeth.

A ripple of jealousy crawls up my back and my powers itch my palm to send out a pulse of power to do something petty like make Seff fall. Not far . I don't want him injured or anything. Just a little less… perfect.

I clench my fist against the urge and grunt, folding both my arms across my chest for a little extra restraint. Theo notices my reaction; it would be hard not to since he's standing right next to me at a safe distance - something that isn't a coincidence at all - and tips his face up to look at me, the sunlight catching his golden eyelashes, highlighting the freckles on the bridge of his nose just perfectly.

A small smile toys on his lips, and he twists, bumping his elbow into my arm, winking. Heat floods my limbs. Suddenly, with him looking at me, really looking at me, for the first time in weeks, and far too close, it's hard to breathe.

I stare, too hard and too long, unable to pull my eyes away from him. But Theo stares back, his eyes flicking from mine down to my mouth and back up again, his tongue darting out to lick his lips in an act I am ninety-percent sure was unconscious, even as it sends a bolt of white hot lust to my cock. Fuck.

"I have good news and bad news, Roan." Bless Mauvy and her fishmonger wife ways. Her yell from the back door of the tavern snaps Theo and me clear of the moment brewing between us. I manage to tear my gaze away from the blush creeping up his neck, up to the points of his ears, to watch my best friend make her way to our group. Keeping my back firmly to the lot of them, I can hear Theo hissing at Edith and Seldon to shut up over their obvious snickers.

Mauvy plonks herself down on the garden wall next to Edith, who pulls a bottle of wine out of Gods know where, uncorking it with her teeth and taking a swing.

"Good news is, the mages are coming next month. They are wanting to put their tents up on the lawns as usual." Mauvy accepts the offered bottle of wine, taking her own drink before passing it along to Seldon. The mages taking over the lawns during the summer is nothing new; they'd been visiting every couple of years for decades, setting up their opulent tents and charming the locals. Coming from the Overlands, their magic is tied to the lands in Ulydessia, but they enjoy visiting other sacred grounds and the beings there to learn new gifts.

In a strange way, Mauvy and I had grown up with a lot of them, and we were all friends. It's a bit like a reunion whenever they can visit.

"Ok, so what's the bad news?" Mauvy takes a moment to take in Seff, who has caught on to our spectating and is now pouring a full bottle of water over himself like the show pony he is.

Mauvy may not swing Seff's way as first preference, but he is an incredibly built specimen, and even she can't deny it. Standing behind her, I have to poke her in the ribs to get her attention. The others are ignoring us now, completely engrossed in Seff's ridiculous display—he definitely does not need to bend like that to pick up whatever he's just purposely dropped.

"Uh, yeah." Mauvy shakes her head, her braids wiggling on her chest. "It's Hildy. Her sister is pregnant with triplets, so she is leaving to go help her. Apparently, she lives a couple of hours away. So, she'll be finishing here in a couple of weeks. We need another permanent server."

Shit. We could probably cover with some of the casuals, but Mauvy and I like working with our core team—since it helps keep things running smoothly. A sudden impulse strikes me, that old fae instinct knocking into me hard and fast. Before I can consider the stupidity of the idea, I turn to Theo, clapping my hand onto his shoulder to get his attention.

"Theo, how would you like a job?"