Page 16 of Poet & Protector

His habit of answering my questions with questions was equally infuriating.

“That we both go to the Bunker,” I said. “We’re the only younger Guardians who do. Unless I’ve missed someone.”

He muttered something I didn’t catch, then said, “We’re the only ones.”

“You don’t think that matters? Maybe we should get to know each other. We aren’t packmates now, but we will be after the union.”

“I’m such a dick.” He parroted my insult. “Why would you want to get to know me?”

“Fuck you.”

“Exactly.” Nev stretched onto his stomach once more and returned his attention to his book. “Can we focus on the assignment now?”

“Fine.” I picked up the poetry anthology I’d set aside, found the section on haiku, and tried to concentrate. It was really hard to read when I was furious.

A few minutes passed before Nev growled, rolled onto his side, and narrowed his eyes at me.

“Do you sulk this much with your pack?” he asked. “You must be an absolute joy to patrol with.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Nev replied. “I can hear you sulking anyway.”

“I’m not sulking.” I slammed the anthology on the ground.

“Don’t wreck the book.” He knelt and leaned over me to pick it up and brush dirt off the cover.

His body was close enough that I was surrounded by his complex scent of paper, ink, varnished wood, that odd steel odor, and river stones. It irked me that he smelled so good. That many scents should be a muddle and yet on Nev it was like a story waiting to be read.

He straightened and shoved the book into my hands. “What do you want to know?”

“Huh?”

“When I figured out I was gay? How I felt about it? Who I told?” He fired off questions. “How long I’ve been going to the Bunker?”

I blinked at him.

“What do you want to know, Mason?” Nev pinned me with his gaze. “Let’s get this over with.”

It was so like a Bane to view a conversation with a Nightshade as nothing but a burden. I wished being disdainful came as easily to me as it did to Nev. Unfortunately, I really did want to know the answers to those questions. Curiosity killed wolves as well as cats, it seemed.

“Any of that,” I told him. “All of it.”

My reply surprised him. I guess he expected me to take off in a snit or something after his rude outburst.

His brow furrowed as he studied my face.

I sighed, suddenly overcome with exhaustion and a twinge of sadness. “Look, you don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with. Or anything at all. Sorry if this is all tiresome to you, but I’ve never talked to anyone…”

I trailed off as an unexpected rush of loneliness rolled over me.

He looked at me for a minute, his expression unreadable. “You talk to Jackie and some of the other Nightshades at the Bunker.”

It briefly registered that Nev paid attention to who I spent time with at the Bunker, but I brushed that aside.

“They’re all elders,” I said. “Their lives are different. I know Jackie through my aunt, so talking to her is kind of like talking to my mom. It’s not the same as talking to one of my packmates, or a friend.”

When I stopped speaking, I felt exposed, wondering if it was a mistake to be so honest with Nev.