(Nics POV)

The clock continues to tick by, dinner comes and goes, and I don't dare glance at the door. It was a gut feeling, I'd had an unrealistic expectation that meeting with Anubis and doing this new job would mean he could return home with any sort of urgency. 

Was it wrong to hope? 

But, it still stung, even when the outcome seemed inevitable. The depths of my mind ached for him, my body ached. I felt myself picturing him, recapturing the feeling of his lips against my neck over and over despite trying to focus on feeding the children. The backs of my fingers trail over the spot where his teeth grazed me, it wasn't often I pined like this.

Beyond wanting him, I felt the desire to shift. The itch under my skin, the quiver in my bones, it'd been too long since I'd let my wolf run. But without Verando, the thought hurts more than the wolf clawing at its mental cage. Surrendering wasn't an option, I had to protect myself as much as I had a job to do. 

It felt wrong. 

How could I even consider-

"I know. I know." I murmur under my breath, checking my watch with a heavy sigh, while I clean up from dinner. "I'll.. I'll ask him. Give me a break."

A flush of warmth rushes through me, resting in the core of my stomach with a shudder. 

"I know about that, too." I hiss through my teeth, "I'm not.. ready."

The whimper rings in my ears, I scrub my hands through my hair with a groan and throw the towel into the sink. I'd forgotten about this part, forgotten what the cuff caused as my body had started to heal. It had seemed like something that would have taken longer to happen, glancing at the gold band, I can only imagine it's Bastet attempting to push her deal into fruition. 

I waited for a little bit, sipping on some wine, and cleaning the house. The wolf plays images for me, vulgar scenes of the various places he'd had me in this damned house. 

Might as well pretend to be domestic. 

No sign of his return, no calls, no looming warlord brooding over the world and how to control it.

Sneaking upstairs, I curl up in bed, trying to wrap my head around the reality of my situation. Verando would be working all of the time, during the day for us and the night for Anubis, with no expectations for me. 

We were no longer tied together, he could be dead and someone would have to tell me for I had no other way of knowing. 

How did normal couples live like this? How was I supposed to trust that he'd keep returning?

 About to succumb to anxiety, I hear the patter of little feet before I see him, Darrius climbs into bed, curling up against my chest. "Where's Daddy?" He whimpers, half asleep, sighing happily at the warmth of my body.

"He's working, honey." Running my hand gently through his hair, I hold him a little closer, inhaling the familiar scent of the sweet child mixed with the deep scent of my husband that the bed still held. It calms my pounding heart and brings me away from the edge, where I feared what would happen in the coming months. 

"I miss him." Darrius glances up at me sleepily. "Tata, where is your work?"

Stiffening, I almost consider pushing the child off the bed and resorting to violence but manage to reel in my reaction for the sake of the child's innocence. "I run a car shop." Did I? 

It felt more like other people ran it for me, a toy dangled for a cat, never to catch it. 

"I like cars." He yawns, dozing in and out of sleep. 

I did, too. He liked them because he was from me, and we shared that, or at least that's what I could convince myself. My mind drifts back to Legardo's suggestion, to push to fix Verando's sports car and bring the man a little sliver of joy back. He'd be gone for two months, it'd give me plenty of time if I scheduled correctly.

Peeking in on the children, I slip downstairs in the early morning to start on breakfast. A broad back catches me off guard, I almost sigh in relief only to stop when I notice it's not my husband but Legardo in our kitchen, sitting at the table going over some paperwork. 

I hear the dull murmur of a TV and spot Silvia, eating a piece of toast quietly. 

Legardo looks up, tilting his head to look behind me. "Where's Verando?"

Shrugging, I almost scoff, before striding over to grab a cup and take some coffee from the fresh pot. "I might be his keeper, but it doesn't mean he tells me everything. He needed to speak with Anubis, your guess is as good as mine because he hasn't come home yet. What do you need?"

My wolf is painfully aware of his absence. I pour a shot of cream liquor into my coffee and take another sip, opting for one more healthy splash.

"Permit signatures, release of funds- actually, you're on most of this. What's with the alcohol? Would you happen to be feeling vengeful and want to forge some signatures? Hell, sign your own, I don't think it truly matters with all of this."

I consider it quietly, mulling it over as I take a slow sip of my drink. "Mind your own business, Legardo..." Tonguing my cheek, I consider it. It might be nice to sign some things and feel important once more. "Can it bankrupt us?"

Legardo shrugs, "I mean, can't anything? It's mostly building permits for the school, they're working on some courtyards that would be safe for a variety of training. It's a lot of clearing and reinforcements."

My English wasn't good, I had hardly worked on reading in the language. Glancing over the papers, I sign it half-heartedly. "Well, maybe it'll encourage him to come back when he says he will. Teach him to leave me alone. Did Steffan arrange for you to come here?" 

The white-haired man works quietly, making sure everything is in order, and considering my question before standing to fold the papers neatly back into its case. "In a way, yes. He bought tickets to an event today in town. It's some sort of activity for children, so I'll be taking the boys and Silvia if that's alright. Pascal has arranged for Silvia to take some dance lessons so we'll take the kids to watch that as well... that alright?"

It never ceased to amaze me that Legardo and Pascal had ended up together, though he was older than her and had a handful of children, she seemed to step into her role almost seamlessly. Her lackadaisical style had tempered his hotheaded and bristled nature. 

Truthfully, I was relieved to get a break. I needed time to get my head on straight, my mind shifted to Kestrel's consumption of suppressants, pulling out my phone and sending Rowan a quick text. Much as she wasn't someone who would keep anything from my husband, she would know the most about what I was looking for. 

"Thanks, Gary, I really do appreciate all the help you've been. You know.. actually, you've always been helpful... even when you and your father weren't getting along."

Legardo pulls his lips into a thin line, uncomfortable with any praise. "We still don't get along." He reminds me dryly as I roll my eyes and take another swallow of my coffee.

The warlord look alike glances at me, and for a moment, I see my future. I could picture how Xavier would mature, even though his skin seemed darker and his eyes more dusty instead of fractured icebergs, the man before me was just as much his father's progeny. Everything in me assaulted me, pleading, that desire just as strong as ever before. 

Finishing my coffee, I'm tempted to pour myself a shot.

"I think Gardo is the preferred name now, so we can drop 'Gary'. Even Mum calls me Gardo, again. Awful as the name is... it is no trouble Nicolas, I enjoy being a father. It's nice to get to hang out with the two children that, I suppose, are my brothers... I never had siblings, so this in a way satisfies both of those needs."

Cringing at the stiffness of his acceptance, I can only force a smile and nod. Better to allow him to bow out than pry further into his intentions. "Was Legardo Verando's choice? It is.. sort of.. similar?"

It's the other man's turn to scoff. "No, 'fraid not. It was Sota who named me, my mum had no desire to take on the stress of naming a male heir and getting the scrutiny that came with it. My father was nowhere to be seen, so Legardo came from the Spanish word, 'Legado' which means legacy. 

Shaking his head at the memory, he slips the case back into a bag slung over his shoulder. "I remember Verando telling my mother it was an awful name, she would have preferred to name me directly after him, and that seemed much more displeasing to him. So, Legardo stayed."

Darrius comes down the stairs, bear in hand, with a yawn. "Daddy?" he prompts at the mention of my husband's name. 

It was the question of the hour. "Hey, why don't you have some toast and I'll get your stuff ready, you're going with Gardo for the day," I suggest gently, earning a frown from the unicorn who takes a quick passing glance around the kitchen.

Suspicious, the youth walks over to snag a piece of toast covered in jam as he watches me, trying to make sense of the tension I was sure. "I don't want you to have any fun while I'm gone," He regards me, licking his sticky fingers. 

"Of course, honey." 

Flinting around the house and getting Xavier out of bed, it's a mad dash to get the children ready as well as pack them a bag and prepare them extra clothes. The assorted bears and comfort items, socks and matching outfits, my fingers sort through the clothes as I curse and grumble at the sizing amidst stepping on toys and over fallen play structures. 

Xavier was quickly outgrowing many of his shirts, each one that was too tiny I rested to the side to be disposed of and as the pile grew I began to feel the familiar ache once more. Each piece held an adorable saying or sweetly drawn character, the characteristic jam stains or the occasional snags and tears that came with such sweet memories. 

 We didn't have another tiny little body to fill the nearly new articles of clothing. These might never be worn again, it only made sense to dispose of them, yet I yearned to keep them. I so desperately wanted these soft, sweet-smelling clothes to comfort, warm, and shield, one more tiny little body.

The cuff glints, a stark reminder that my time was limited, as I cram the outgrown clothes into a clothes basket with a newfound determination to donate them. 

How low could I stoop? 

 It's hardly been two weeks and I was already considering my options. The thought is enough to make my stomach churn, how long was I supposed to mourn? 

"Sad," Xavier tells me, tilting his head as he regards my expression. 

I force a smile, "I'm just going to miss my boys so much today. I'm not sad, honey." Keep it together. Marching down the stairs, basket on one hip and Xavier on the other, I flinch at the muffled bang of someone moving furniture. 

"What on earth?" I grumble, hesitating as I see two men carrying the couch from the den out the front door. 

"Your husband is home." Legardo sighs, taking Xavier from me, who seems more sleepy than hungry. "We're going to head out.. looks like he might be... not himself."

My heart was pounding, I rounded the corner, feeling his scent flooding my nose before I was interrupted by a man carrying an armload of curtains out the door with a haunted expression.

Verando's suit looks distressed, as if he'd been in motion for a long period, it held way more creases and wrinkles than what should be normal for such an article of clothing. I note the coat is missing, the suspenders crossing over his back exposed for us to see, and the underarm holsters are still fully loaded with the dual handguns.

"Is that what I asked for? It's the wrong bloody color, it won't do. Take it back." Verando snaps, taking a long draw from his cigarette as if it were the only thing holding him together. Handing back the form to a very concerned worker who carries the end table back out after the couch, he stiffens when he spots me as if this was a state he didn't want me to see him in. 

Crossing his arms over his chest, I hesitate to even approach him, he curses, running a hand roughly through his hair and taking another desperate drag.

"Good morning?" I attempt, making him nearly flinch, only to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

"Yes. Morning, love- No, why is this so difficult for people to understand? The couch is near smoke black, so these stark black end tables are not correct. Don't bring in hodge-podge furniture, if it's not right, take it back. I don't need to tell you what you can plainly see with your eyes!" Verando leaves me to scowl at another unsuspecting mover.

Taken aback, I watch the man haul the next end table back outside, turning my attention to Legardo who hurries out of the house with children in tow. 

"Redecorating?" I asked, dodging the old lamp, though I didn't quite see a problem that would warrant replacing. "You missed dinner. You missed the entire evening and you said you'd be home. I'm not.. trying to be a bitch but, you could have called?"

"'Bout time, don't you think? Fewer stains show up on darker furniture." He retorts shortly, gritting his teeth as one of the men bumps into him with a new dining room chair. "I'm over 6 bloody feet tall, is it so hard to see-" 

I grip his suspenders, pulling him out of the living room as I force an apologetic smile and shove him into the kitchen. Snagging the cigarette, I throw it into the sink. 

"No smoking in the house, I hardly tolerate it as it is and the kids don't need to smell like smoke." Verando's lips part and I silence him with a hard glare, earning a growl that makes my body shiver. "You don't scare me, Mr.Mercer. Now, what on earth is wrong with you? This isn't like you?" 

Verando's icy gaze scans over me, his stubble beyond a simple 5 o'clock shadow, the height difference painfully obvious in my barefoot state. "Are you sure I don't scare you? Your heart is beating out of your chest." 

Damn it. It wasn't fear I was reacting to, his dominance, his rigid shoulders, the tension in his jaw, and the hardness in his eyes. "Trust me, baby, it's not fear..." I murmur, inhaling sharply as his hands land on either side of the counter, trapping me there. Gritting my teeth, I curse under my breath, my palm landing on his chest to stop him from getting any closer. "Hold on... I need  a minute."

"To what?" His voice is low, rougher than usual. "To reel this in?" His hand lifts to grip my throat, flashing my teeth at him only for him to chuckle at my obstinance. "You've been calling to me all night long and I'm supposed to restrain myself, high expectations, I'm only a man." 

The scent of him was driving me mad, swallowing at the restraint it took to not leap at this sinful creature before me. "You've never been only a man." I retort with a scoff, "You come in here having a tantrum and you expect to pounce on me like this?" 

I wasn't so blinded by my desire for this man that I couldn't see when something had gone wrong, something must have happened for him to be acting this way. Gripping his wrist, I yank his hand down, forcing myself to breathe. "I swear to the gods if this is some Fenrir bullshit..."

"All me darling, every last fucked up inch." The pain in his expression was clear, the weight in his voice, I slip my thigh between his legs to entice him as he inhales through his teeth at my audacity. 

"You're telling me..." I murmur, making him smirk as my fingers slip around his suspender. "You really are a gay man, coming in here and redecorating amid a mental breakdown... at least you have good taste."

"You're looking for trouble, aren't you?" Verando growls, knotting his fist in the nape of my neck to pull my head back, exposing my willing mouth to him as he looks to be considering his options. "It's been a long night, love. Now... don't tempt me, because I'm not going to be able to control myself in your current.... state..." Glancing up and down my body, I don't have an opportunity to respond as one of the workers freezes in the doorway of the kitchen and clears his throat. 

Verando straightens, and I cough shyly as I adjust his shirt, noting that the top buttons are unbuttoned. 

"You're not getting away that easily, you've got a mountain of explaining to do." I  manage, attempting to pull myself back into some sort of order. Verando tilts his head to the door as the doorbell rings.

"And you're going on a girls day out with Steffan, don't let this ruin your day, Nic. I'll be just as-"

Gritting my teeth, I jerk him closer to me. "Don't say that. I'm banning it."

"I'll be right here when you get back." He corrects, lighter this time, I stretch onto my toes and jerk him down to my height to claim his mouth.

Moving my lips against his, tasting cigarette on his tongue, I retract and wrinkle my nose. "Brush your teeth, you're supposed to be quitting. You taste like an ashtray."

"I can think of another use for my mouth, quite far from your lips, if my current state displeases you," Verando smirks, catching me off guard, and bringing color to my cheeks at the suddenness. My body ignites, despite my reservations, despite my desire to distance us because I can't come to terms with the thought of giving in and acknowledging we would have to 'try again'. 

"God you're hot as hell..." I manage, hovering my lips under his before stopping myself as I hear Steffan entering the room. "We're not done with this conversation and you better be here when I get back, Mr.Mercer. Now.. go storm the castle and ruin these poor men's lives."

"With gusto, my love. Have fun." Bending, he kisses me softer this time, slower, savoring the way his tongue rolls against mine and I can't help but smirk at the sensation of the cool metal stud. 

Steffan chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest impatiently. "Alright alright. We get it, you like each other, come on, Nic. I have a hair appointment we're about to be late to."