Page 10 of Swamp Kings 1

“We,” Butterfly hurried, with a, “Ohhhh look who is wide awake!”

“He is,” Kult praised, adjusting his upper chest at his shoulder where they could see him, little face framed by the green camo winter suit protecting him from the elements. “Who is ready to wranglegators?” he asked, making his way down the pier. “I hear there’s a beautiful woman who can teach you. But she’s already taken by a Viking. A swamp Viking,” Kult said. “Can you believe that? Vikings in a swamp? I guess you can, given your own royal trash lineage.”

Butterfly busted out laughing, shoving his shoulder. “Don’t teach our son mean things!”

“That’s not mean,” Kult cooed to him. “That’s just the ugly facts, yes? And we love all the ugly facts, no lying alphabets painting glitter on our bullshit, isn’t that right, Daddy Pain?”

“Daddy Pain!” she squawked. “We havegotto consider another name for him to call you.”

Kult stopped in his tracks, eyeing her. “That’s the exact kind of glitter I’m talking about. Our son needs to be taught to embrace all the ugly truths of who he is and who we are, even who you are. We do not hide it.Iwill not,” he assured.

She dropped her head back with a little growl. “You’re right! I know it and I keep forgetting. Gonna take some getting used to. I just want to protect him from all that ugly,” she said, back to smiling at his little bobbing head and squinty eyes.

“He will become strong just like us,” Pain said, his voice soft as he stroked his cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Look at that serious warrior face. The truth will be the weapon that protects him and he will own it with all his courageous heart.”

Butterfly and Kult both eyed Pain now. “That was fuckinghot,” Kult said impressed, getting Butterfly’s nods and laughs and kisses as Kult continued down the pier.

“So, you’re a poet and I didn’t know it?” Butterfly muttered behind him.

“Mommy Butterfly and Daddy Pain need to get a room,” he cooed to Garbagio as his cock remembered Mary. “And I need to get a room with Mommy Mary.”

Mommy Mary. The rogue idea of her getting pregnant had his mind suddenly tripping on itself. He surely wasn’t ready for that, not when he’d only just agreed to marry her. Plus, Garbagio was all he needed, all he wanted. He’d have to talk to her. Particularly about contraceptives. Pronto.

The music reached his ears long before the massive crowd of people came into view. “Holy fucking people nightmare, Garbagio,” Kult muttered, stopping long enough to get him situated back in the wrap. “Sorry buddy,” he said after getting him hidden away. “You seem to have some invisible sign begging people to violate all personal space rules.” He’d never witnessed more crude behavior from humans. Breath in his face, filthy undeserving grabby hands touching him. “But look at you in your Rambo-camo, you’re irresistible. That’s okay, I’m fully prepared to break hearts and fingers if anybody attempts to molest yourspace. We need to protect that. Can’t let just anybody barge into that sacred zone.”

As he neared the crowd, he spotted Atlas and Sync standing with Kaphas and his very favorite terror triplets. He realized the Marsh Kings had them surrounded as the people all around had a mix of reactions. Some walked by openly staring, but the majority either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Given the loud, energetic atmosphere, he was sure plenty of liquid courage ran through the veins in this swamp camp.

Fetch turned, no doubt sensing Kult. He always did, like some alarm went off when Kult crossed into his fetching zone. His favoriteFetchlingthe triplet called him. Now as he entered their circle, all eyes went to his prized possession strapped to him. “How’d he like the ride?” Atlas asked with a grin.

“Slept through the whole thing,” Kult announced, sliding the words out with pride while grinning at the shocked looks they wore.

Several of the Marsh brothers turned and greeted him with a camaraderie eerily comforting to him. The entire swamp had that effect from the moment he set foot in it. If he believed in reincarnation, he’d be sure this place was buried somewhere in his bones. Somehow, some way, these werehis people.A delectable puzzle to distract him from those he wasn’t eager to unravel.

“I betyouwere wide awake on that ride,” Sync said.

Kult eyed his brother, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder. “More alive than I’veeverbeen and even morethankfulfor it.”

Laughing agreement passed around them as Kult held the clear gaze of his estranged sibling. “Pencil me in for a fishing date. I’d like to catch up with you.”

Sync’s bright smile touched something in Kult that made him want to wrap the man in a fierce hug for about five minutes. For so long they’d been running, hiding, fighting. Surviving. And now… Kult noticed things. The air in his lungs. The smells. The insects chattering about all the…normalthings.

“I don’t believe we’ve officially met.”

Kult turned and found familiar smiling blue eyes level with his. He looked down at the man’s outstretched hand.

“He’s theirSeer,” Fetch said, moving to stand on Kult’s other side.

Kult regarded his Ex-Fetcher, finding a mild warning in his icy gaze.

“I don’t always have tosee,” the man said when Kult considered his hand again.

“What’s the criteria?” Kult felt the need to ask.

“If you wanna be seen or… if Godwantsme to see.”

Right. Something told him that if it was thesecond,then there would be no negotiating. Not long ago, he’d have grabbed his hand and let the powers of his nightmares crush him but since Butterfly, he knew better than to fuck with that strangeGodpower. The only puzzle sizzling up his mind was why he needed to grab that man’s hand and yet why he should never touch it.

Kult locked gazes with him, showing him he feared nothing. Light or dark.

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