shrugged nonchalantly and picked at the bedding for something to do. I opened my mouth for a second, then closed it again, unsure what to say. “I didn’t realize it at first,” he continued when I could only stare at him. “It’s why I couldn’t stay away from you. You didn’t respond in the ways I expected you to, which was interesting enough, but you smelled different. Then I realized you smelled like me.”
“The marker you share,” Theo explained softly. “Your sense of smell is strong enough to pick up a minute familial connection?”
Mordred didn’t respond, just merely stared at me.
Repeat his question, Damien instructed. I could feel my face pinch together in confusion, but I complied, repeating Theo’s question.
Mordred inclined his head. “Yes. It’s one of the things I was bred for.”
So he’ll only answer her, Hiro surmised. This will get tricky.
Ask him why he came, Killian demanded. Why the hell he stayed.
“Why did you bring the invitation to us?” I shifted slightly, feeling Killian’s warm hand against my back, offering support and encouragement.
“Because I was ordered to.”
Truth. Damien’s mental voice was gritty, as though he was straining. His mind is so hard to sort through, but I can get basic truths and lies.
“But why stay?” I pressed, my eyes not leaving his gray ones. “You didn’t try to take any of us out. You didn’t flee. You just… stayed. Why?”
“I was ordered to deliver the letter. I wasn’t ordered to return. I wasn’t ordered to kill anyone.” He lifted a shoulder slightly. “I didn’t want to return. So I didn’t.”
Truth or lie? Theo inquired, his mental tone sharp.
The first part was a truth, I think. Damien didn’t sound sure. I just don’t understand it. The second part… it’s more fluid. He doesn’t want to return, but I don’t think he wants to stay either. I don’t understand.
“If you don’t want to return, then what do you want?” I questioned, knowing we needed the truth.
“Help.” The word was nearly torn from his throat as he pressed a hand to his head, his chains rattling and his shoulders hunching as if he’d been dealt a sharp blow.
“Help?” I repeated, glancing quickly at my mates.
“To help you and have you help me.” His fathomless eyes brightened as they looked into mine, his shoulders still curled away from whatever pain sliced into his mind. “Sister.”
Two
Nix
I nearly stumbled. I probably would have if not for Killian’s solid arms wrapping around me, holding me up tightly in place, the warmth of his chest pressing firmly against my back. Shock was quickly replaced by anger.
“Okay, people really need to stop claiming me as family!” I threw my arms into the air, trying to move forward to glare at the mysterious man solemnly studying me, assessing my every move as I seethed. “First Stepanov sends you with that letter claiming I’m his daughter, then you claim I’m your sister. Enough!”
“Easy, Annie girl.” Killian’s grasp tightened, the only thing keeping me from lunging forward as fury surged through my veins. “It’s my job to jump into rages, remember?” he purred into my ear, and a small shiver worked over my skin, distracting me from the blind rage clawing at me.
I knew the flush on my cheeks wasn’t solely anger now as embarrassment—and a little heat—flowed into the mix when Hiro and Joshua stroked gentle, encouraging hands down the arms Killian still held pinned against my trembling body. I breathed deeply, leaning back into their touch as I tried to settle the ire deep inside myself for the moment.
“Interesting.” At his bland comment, my Phoenix hissed, and I wanted to rage all over again, though I managed to bite my tongue and breathe through it.
That’s it, sweetheart, Damien murmured. You’re doing well. I wanted to snort. Nearly jumping forward to smack him didn’t exactly qualify as doing well, but that had been one hit too many.
“To be fair, sister may not be the technical term anymore,” Birdman spoke up. “I can smell the familial relationship. However, with how convoluted my own genealogy is at this point, if you prefer cousin or another term, please, use that.” He lifted a shoulder in a sharp shrug.
“You smell the relation?” Theo asked sharply, his blue eyes now focused.
At Birdman’s refusal to answer, I sighed, tired of the game we were playing. “These are my mates, you can treat their questions as if they are my own.”
He stared, but then finally agreed with one sharp incline of his head, and Theo repeated