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“Beautiful,” Liam says, running cautious fingers over Shay’s primaries. He presses his lips to Shay’s temples, whispers, “God, you’re beautiful.”
Shay has only spread his wings once since leaving the Brotherhood.
“Shay,” Gist says, his eyes wide.
Shay’s wings shudder, the smell of rot overwhelming.
Shay says nothing as he tucks his wings back under his skin. “Now you know.”
“I’m sorry,” Gist says, moving in close. “You’re still beautiful.”
“Nothing about me is beautiful,” Shay says, turning away from Gist’s kiss. “I prefer it that way.”
Shay has only ever spread his wings once since leaving the Brotherhood.
“Beautiful.”