Highlands. But Nick believed it. He could feel the tension of it strung through his body.
“Was he ginger?” he asked.
That surprised a laugh out of Nick. “No,” he said. “He had dark hair and—”
“Then it wasn’t Ewan,” Nick said. “He’s a little ginger prophet. And Rose, even if she told the truth about the Run-Away Man, doesn’t mean she told the truth about anything else. Or she ever planned to. You don’t need them.”
Nick unfolded from his perch on the rock and stood up. He moved stiffly, his joints chilled, and offered Gregor a hand to get to his feet. Gregor didn’t need the help, but he accepted the offer just to feel Nick’s long, restless fingers tangle through his.
“I know,” Nick said as he hauled Gregor up. He clung onto Gregor’s fingers once he was done. “I just… don’t want to know that everyone who made me is a monster. That I was going to be a monster, even before—”
Gregor kissed him to shut him up. “You were always going to be mine,” he said. “Monster, god, or human. I don’t care.”
“I do,” Nick said as he rested his forehead against Gregor’s. “I get it. We need to know what Gran has planned, but don’t blindside me, Gregor. Not again.”
With Nick so close, Gregor could smell the sickness on him. It wasn’t as wrong as the monsters, but something bitter still clung close to Nick’s skin. Whatever the prophets—whatever Nick’s grandfather—had done to him, it hadn’t worn off yet. Thinned out, but not faded away. A whole layer of reality just wiped out.
Gregor stepped back and tucked his knuckle under Nick’s chin to tilt his head up. “I decided to keep you when you were human,” he said. “I want you, Nick, not the bird.”
“If it can still hear you, you’ll hurt its feelings,” Nick said. “It likes you.”
“I like it,” Gregor said. He did. The bird’s personality was distinct from Nick’s when he pulled on his feathers—a creature who cackled humor over the dead. Carrion gods, he supposed, had a particular view of the world. “But I need you.”
Nick grinned with a flash of that unexpected, ridiculous sweetness that he pretended wasn’t there. Then his face fell into serious lines and he reached up to cover Gregor’s hand with his, fingers slotted between Gregor’s knuckles.
“I love you,” he said.
Of course, he did. Gregor knew that already. Why else would Nick have come back from the dead for Gregor or followed him north to the harsh welcome of the wolves? The need to say it anyhow was a human thing, as though a feeling could be domesticated like a dog.
Gregor still wanted him to say it again. Maybe the prophets had sliced more out of him than he thought and left room for sentiment to creep in.
“Why wouldn’t you?” he asked.
Nick gave him an exasperated glare but leaned in for a kiss. His mouth was desperate, his lips cold and tongue warm as he pressed against Gregor’s body. He cupped Gregor’s face with his long-fingered hands, buried his thumbs in the stubble that crawled along the clean edges of his jaw, and muttered something that Gregor didn’t catch between their mouths.
It didn’t matter what the words were, Gregor could taste the tenderness of them on his tongue. He swallowed it greedily and pulled Nick closer, his hands twisted roughly in the thick jacket that rustled in his grip. The lean body under the thermal material relaxed against Gregor with easy, seductive compliance. Nick wasn’t easy—he argued with Gregor more than anyone but Jack had ever dared before—but he always melted when Gregor touched him.
The ache of lust in Gregor’s balls was heavy and hot, almost painful as it reminded him how cold his thighs and ass were. Temptation knotted in the small of his back, equal parts desire and the need to mark Nick with his scent.
Mine.
“We’ll freeze,” Nick muttered into Gregor’s mouth. Despite the objection, he didn’t pull away. “I’ll freeze.”
“I’ll warm you up,” Gregor teased. He pulled away from Nick’s mouth and licked his way down to the taut skin under his jaw. The flutter of Nick’s pulse against his lips made Gregor’s mouth water. He bit down on the bubble of it, just hard enough to make Nick gasp, and then licked the spot better. Temptation had settled into intent as he nuzzled his way down Nick’s throat to his collarbone. “You still aren’t human, no matter what they did.”
A whimper caught in Nick’s throat. He