Page 41 of Fire of the Fox

As I moved on to the next subjects of the photo, my world froze. The chatter of the mall, the smell of brewing coffee, the thought of Fae. It all dissipated the minute I saw them.

Standing next to Myra was Rune, who wasn’t looking into the camera. He smiled down at two small boys, who stared back up at him. Bright grins lit their faces, and their eyes shimmered with unhindered joy. The looks that the three of them wore, the way their faces were turned up in pure bliss. The amount of unconditional love between the brothers captured right there in one small photo. It was enough to make my breath hitch in my throat.

I beamed at Rune. “Your brothers look so excited and happy to be with you.”

The corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly, but it was a look that I couldn’t help but think seemed a bit sad. “I guess so. They liked having me around to watch out for them.”

“Liked?”

He nodded. “Myra doesn’t allow me to come around without her invitation. I haven’t seen the boys in three years now.”

A deep ache formed in my chest. “Your own mom doesn’t let you come over?”

“Family is different with Fae. At least, it is with Foxes. We’re selfish by nature, even with our own blood. It’s very rare for a Fox to get to the point where they love someone else more than themselves. Myra just doesn’t see me or the twins that way. She keeps me away as a way to torment the boys … and me. She thinks it will help toughen the boys by not letting me ‘coddle’ them.”

I looked back down at the picture, studying his mother again. She looked so young, no more than 40. Despite her beauty, something about her gave me chills, and it wasn’t just the information I was hearing from Rune. It was the way her hint of a smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, or how her brown gaze seemed to freeze me in my seat through a mere photo. I swallowed hard. Pleasing her must be a huge challenge—one I hoped I could manage.

“Your mother seems—” I hesitated, trying to think of the right word.

Rune filled in for me. “Horrifying.”

I looked at him.

He was staring off into the distance again. He nodded and said, “She’s cold and cruel to everyone.” He paused, swallowing hard and picking at the lid of his coffee cup. “Especially Newt.”

“Why Newt?” I asked, looking back down at the picture.

Newt’s smile was large as he stared up at Rune, his small hands reaching out towards his older brother. His glasses sat crooked on his face, and his dark suit was ruffled, no doubt from an afternoon of playing.

“Newt has a stuttering problem—something Myra sees as an imperfection. She despises him for ‘tarnishing our family name.’ She rarely speaks to him or even acknowledges him. She’ll purposely try to pamper Greshim in front of Newt to ‘punish’ him for simply existing. When Akira told you there were evil Fae in the world, he was right. Myra is one of them. She’s the one I’m most worried about you meeting, especially since you aren’t really Fae like us. She’ll most likely pick up on it fairly quickly if we aren’t careful.”

I swallowed hard. My hesitation was slowly morphing into bitter rage. The more he talked about her, the less I wanted to go. My blood simmered when thinking about how she treated Newt, and my heart broke for him. I did not want to meet that woman. I looked back down at her picture, her dark eyes staring back at me. I felt like she was going to reach right out of the photo to tear at my flesh with her sharp canines and claws.

“You don’t have to worry about her doing anything to you,” Rune said.

I looked up at him.

His eyes were surprisingly understanding as they held mine. “If you go, I’ll be there by your side the whole time, so nothing will happen to you.”

Heat rose to my cheeks at the sincerity in his words, so I quickly looked back down at the picture. I cleared my throat, trying to think of something to say to change the subject. “So,” I began, looking at the pictures on the table. We had gone through all of them. “Where’s your dad and his side of the family? Don’t I need to know about them, too?”

He shook his head as he downed the last of his coffee. “My father, Balgair, died 20 years ago. My mother always hated his family, so she doesn’t allow them to come around us since he’s no longer here. You don’t need to know them since they won’t be there. It’s just Alvaro in the picture, and his family doesn’t come around much.”

My heart sank. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“I’m sorry you’ve lost your father and his family.”

Rune looked away and shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me.”

I watched him, mentally repeating his response in my head. He watched other people as they walked around the mall, traveling in and out of shops, carrying loads of bags. His eyes tracked them, but at the same time, he didn’t seem to actually see anything. He felt distant and alone in that moment.

My frown deepened as I whispered, “You’re lying.”

He glanced at me, his brow furrowed. “What?”

I gave him a sad, knowing smile. “You’re lying. I know because I tell myself the same thing, too. I was adopted, you see. I tell myself it doesn’t bother me that my real family gave me up. After all, it was a long time ago, and I didn’t even know them. Why would it bother me, right?” I looked down at the picture of Rune and his family. “But it does. It bothers me more than I can even say. I don’t understand how I can hurt so much over people I don’t even know. You knew your father. You had so many years with him. It’s okay to miss him.”

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