Homelands Pt. 03 Ch. 02

#

The next two weeks were about as pleasant as could be expected, given the circumstances.

As prison worlds went, it wasn't hard to imagine how our fate could be far worse. Brianna had spent nearly ten years in an abyss, without anyone or anything to interact with in any way, shape or form. And there was a certain appeal to our unusual accommodations. I almost wondered why the nobility of Autumn didn't choose such dwellings as a matter of course. As little sense as it made, when the leaves fell, they made a decorative carpet on the hardwood floor, but never made a mess of the kitchen or our bed or anything like that. And when it rained, nary a drop made it into our treehouse, despite the lack of a ceiling.

Living with Brianna was hardly unbearable either. She wasn't my first choice, but I found that I enjoyed her company a good deal more than I'd thought I would. And not just because we had great sex. Which we did. But she was fun to be around in other ways too. After a few more attempts, she more or less gave up on trying to get me to watch trashy reality TV shows. We found that there was a fairly wide range of shows we both liked. And the same went for movies and music as well. I even got her into video games. She was a fast learner, and naturally competitive. We made everything into a competition, using sex favors as the stakes of our wagers. Soon enough, she established an elaborate system, and winning at video games was just one way to acquire chits.

We had a blue shoe box filled with slips of paper that described fairly traditional sexual acts the owner could demand the other to perform, and a red box filled with ones that granted the right to demand the other person to perform more exotic and, often, embarrassing acts. The prospect of ending up on the wrong side of those, which could happen for all sorts of reasons, made even the most mundane and non-sexual of acts exciting.

By the end of the second week, the list of things I'd been forced to endure included: being forced to dress up in women's lingerie and give Brianna a striptease; going three days in a row without receiving oral sex; an entire day in which I had to wear a rubber gimp suit and ball-gag; and a very a brief round of pegging. Which I didn't exactly {enjoy, but wasn't nearly as unpleasant as I'd feared.

On the flip side, my own various and sundry victories in otherwise meaningless affairs had earned me a day on which I could demand a blowjob at any moment, and, no matter what we were doing at the time, Brianna would have to comply; a day where Brianna made her breasts two cup sizes bigger; several striptease shows of my own; and a day where Brianna didn't speak a single word except for whatever came out of her mouth in the throes of ecstasy.

But, despite all that, it hurt more and more that I couldn't see my mother, and that I was being denied the chance to meet my children.

To say nothing of the rest of the family. Which bothered me a lot too. Naturally, seeing Mom again and meeting my kids for the first time were my top priorities, but having no idea when I'd see my brother or sister again was starting to get to me as well. Did Todd and Holly know about Mel and Sean yet? How were they coping? What had become of Nat? Was she in some prison world somewhere too? Surely Grandma knew that she was no threat to the reign of House Farrier. What about Skye and the twins, for that matter? Like Nat, they'd be just as happy to wash their hands of the Homelands altogether. The idea that any of one of those four would make a bid for the throne was preposterous.

If I wasn't such a self-centered shit, I'd have asked Iva when I had the chance. But instead, I'd only inquired about the woman I loved and the fruits of my loins.

Brianna kept telling me I was a whole lot more like her and less like my mother than I cared to admit. And I kept denying it. But maybe it was time to admit that she was right.

Assuming she'd been given any opportunity at all to ask questions when she'd been taken, my mother must surely have asked about every single member of House Orwin. Mom never forgot about anyone the way I had. Never.

Thankfully, though, I did get another chance to ask about everyone.

Two weeks after Iva had brought Brianna to me, my father showed up.

"Well-hello-handsome," Brianna said, as if it was one word. She played with her hair as she stared him up and down, her Libido swelling. "You look good, Uncle Gus."

I hated to admit it, but I could see why she reacted that way.

At present, he didn't have half the muscle mass I did, but what muscle he had was beautifully sculpted and toned. He had just enough silver hair to look distinguished, but with a body like that, no one was going to say he looked old. When women spoke fondly of silver foxes, they had men in mind whom my father put to shame.

"Thank you, Brianna," he said, giving my cousin the once over. "I could say the same for you, but I'm afraid it would be a gross understatement."

I cleared my throat. "Thanks for checking up on us. We're fine. How's everyone else?"

He looked at me and gave me a sly smile that made me think that it was doubly appropriate to think of him as a silver fox. "Nice to see you again, too."

Glowering at me, Brianna swatted my upper arm.

I sighed and stepped over to the sink to wash my hands. My cousin and I had been preparing a homemade pizza, and my hands were covered in flour. I could have cleaned them off with a mere thought, as Brianna had, but I felt like making a show of it. After a quick rinse, I patted them dry with a dish towel and only then did I offer my father a drink.

I conjured up two glass tumblers of his favorite bourbon. Served straight up, of course. That was the only way for a real man to drink his whiskey, according to my father.

He had a lot of thoughts about what was acceptable behavior for a "real" man, my father. He'd kept tally, on a white board hanging from the refrigerator door, of the man-points earned and lost in the past week by each of the males in the house. Of course, it had always been a three-way competition between him, Dom, and Todd.

"That's the stuff," Dad said after his first sip. "Salut."

We clinked our glasses together. Brianna joined in. She'd apparently conjured up some fruity mixed drink, complete with a colorful little umbrella.

By this point, I probably should have known what my cousin's drink of choice was, but I really couldn't have said. It wasn't a cosmotini. I knew that. That was Iva's drink. Nor was it a margarita, which was Mom's. At least when Mom wasn't drinking her tequila straight. But I couldn't have said much more than that.

Granted, Brie didn't seem to have a regular favorite. She bounced back and forth between beer, straight liquor, wine, and mixed drinks. Which probably said something about her.

But this wasn't the first time I'd see her drink that particular drink. And the fact that I still couldn't tell you what it was said something about {me.

I bet Brianna knew what my favorite Scotch was, as well as my favorite beer. Just like she knew how I took my coffee, how hot I liked my showers, and all of that stuff. Whereas I couldn't remember if she took one sugar or two, what she'd do with the dial if she wasn't sharing the stall with me, and so forth.

I hadn't been like that with Mom, and we'd never lived together. As lovers. Just the two of us. Only in the sense that every son had lived with his mother.

Was it that I was more of a self-absorbed asshole than I realized, as Brianna seemed to think? Or was I just not particularly sensitive to {her needs?

"To answer your question," my father said, providing a welcome interruption to my thoughts, "I do actually have some bad news."

"Uh oh," Brianna said, in an overly dramatic tone. But then she looked at me, and presumably noticed the conspicuous lack of a smirk on my face. Her own disappeared instantly. She stepped closer and ran her nails lightly up and down the small of my back.

Would I have been as quick to make up for an ill-timed joke out of respect for her emotions if the situation had been reversed?

I wanted to think so. But I wasn't sure.

I forced myself to smile, put an arm around her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head, trying to pretend I didn't feel like a guilty shit. Why was it so hard for me to realize that, however much of a raging bitch she'd beenin the past, my cousin was trying a lot harder to satisfy me than I was her?

"Who?" I asked my father.

"Your son," he said.

I tensed up. "Which one?"

"Adam."

Not that I knew enough about them to know the difference, for fuck's sake.

"What happened?"

"His brother," Dad said. "I guess you could say that this time, Abel slew Cain."

"I don't get it," Brianna said.

Nor did I.

My father explained first how everyone who knew all of us would conclude within about five minutes of meeting my two sons that they were set to reenact the story of me and Dom, with Josh playing the former role and Adam the latter. Josh was a sensitive introvert who'd dated all of two girls before discovering who he was. Adam was an extrovert, a bad boy who never seemed to get in trouble because all the teachers and administrators saw his "potential." He'd also been a ladies' man before learning about his powers and his heritage.

Valerie, my daughter, was apparently the anti-Brianna. Or at least the opposite of how Brie, or even Nat, had been at her age. Whereas both my cousin and my sister had been incredibly popular, Val was a quiet, painfully shy nerd who'd dreamed of becoming an English professor right up until she'd learned who she was.

Before all hope of a normal life was taken away from her by my aunt, that is.

She'd also, apparently, developed quite a thing for Josh, and not Adam. Which was a problem, because Adam was not used to losing out to a beta. Which Josh clearly {was. Just like his father. So Adam had gotten a little aggressive with Val. To the point that Josh was concerned he might rape her.

That was apparently when Josh caved his brother's face in.

"Oh, Frank," Brianna said. "I'm so sorry."

I didn't know how to react.

The thought that I'd never even meet one of my own children was heart-wrenching. The idea that my surviving son was a kin-killer was hardly welcome news either.

But, at the same time, in a perverse kind of way, I was almost proud of Josh.

And glad that my daughter had found a guy who'd do whatever it took to keep her safe.

"You okay?" my father asked, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I looked back at him wordlessly.

"I know how hard it is to lose a son."

I almost laughed.

He'd disowned us. Or his mother had. And not over any loud protests on his part. At least not that Iva had seen fit to mention.

At least he'd {met his son, though. Raised him, from infancy.

That was more than I could say.

"I think I need to be alone," I said, slipped away from both of them.

"Are you sure?" my father asked. "Because I was told to bring Josh and Val here. To give you a few hours with them."

"Is this a one-time offer? I can't have some time to be alone {and get to meet them?"

"Sure," Dad said. His mouth worked soundlessly, and I suspected he was going to say he had to clear it with his mother. Or the queen. Which would, no doubt, amount to the same thing. But he didn't say anything. Just tipped back his glass and sipped his bourbon.

For the first time in a long time, I wanted to hug my father.

"Thanks," I said.

"What about me?" Brianna said. "Do you want me to...?"

I laughed awkwardly. Do what? Lock herself in the bathroom? There weren't many options for giving each other privacy. Then, realizing she wasn't mocking me, I said, "No. You, I'd like to have around."

"Say no more," Dad said. "I'm gone. I'll come back tomorrow."

I nodded.

Brianna hugged me gently, without saying a word.

I ran my hand through her hair, trying to process what I'd just heard.

My mind spun. On the one hand, the news sort of endeared Josh to me.

Yet, on the other hand, I was also sure that it was only a matter of time before I broke into tears. As if it wasn't bad enough that I hadn't been there for my kids during their childhood, hadn't been there to tell them who they were after they came of age, hadn't been there to explain to them why the mere fact that they carried my blood condemned them to the fate of being imprisoned shortly after joining the Third Autumnal Court, I had failed to keep my son safe. From his own flesh and blood.

Maybe he'd deserved it. But he'd also deserved a father who wouldn't have allowed him to start down a path that would bring him to such an end.

A father, and a mother, for that matter. He most definitely deserved a father who wouldn't {Devour his mother.

"I'm a complete and utter failure," I said.

Rage suddenly welled up inside me. I stepped back from my cousin and hurled my half-empty glass against the tree trunk.

Brianna recoiled as it smashed. But she didn't say anything. Just stared up at me, eyes wide. And not with fear. With concern.

Fuck, what had the world come to when I found myself wondering what I'd done to deserve being treated "that way" by Brianna, and meaning it {that way?

"All she ever wanted was to live a mortal life. For a little while. Until our kids came of age. She wasn't even talking about real retirement."

I could see the question in Brianna's eyes, but I didn't bother answering it.

"Maybe if she'd been there for them," I continued.

A look of recognition settled over my cousin's face.

Slowly, tentatively, she approached me. I nodded. She pressed herself against my chest and wrapped her arms around my back.

Then she did the most absurd thing she could have done. She summoned the red shoe box, shook it up, and offered it to me for me to draw a chit from.

I laughed.

"Go ahead," she insisted.

"You've got to be-"

"Seriously. It'll take your mind off things."

And she was right.

A different woman would have told me that it wasn't my fault, or that what mattered wasn't the mistakes I'd made in the past but what kind of decisions I made moving forward. Perhaps my cousin might even have pointed out that she had a rather colorful past herself, but she was through with wallowing in pity and self-loathing and was ready to move on. All of which would have been perfectly valid points. But I wasn't ready to hear any of them just then. So I was glad that she didn't mention them.

I kissed her forehead then reached into the box and pulled out a slip of paper.

I blushed as soon as I read it. "Who wrote these?"

Brianna laughed. "Who do you think? The sex-fairy?"

I snickered. "Seriously. I won't ask you to do that. I don't even know that I'd want to."

"That's fine," she said with a shrug. "No one's going to make you. But if you're just putting on a show for my benefit, don't bother. I've done worse. And enjoyed it."

The slip of paper burst into white-hot flame. The fire was gone in an instant, leaving only a few motes of ash.

"Or, draw another," she said. "Whatever floats your boat."

So I did. And that one too made me blush. But I wasn't quite as uncomfortable with what it described. It was definitely kinkier than anything I'd ever done, but I thought maybe I could see myself enjoying it.

"Well?" my cousin asked.

I smiled.

"Good," she said.

And for the next two hours, I didn't think once about Lily, or Adam, or any of them.