Edgar was in over his head. He would be the first person to admit it.
Today had been a hard day for him. From having to sit near Gideon while everyone behaved like normal, Cass declaring to the whole room that Fiona was pregnant, presumably with his child, to seeing Gideon beat up, and Cass declaring that he owned him.
Edgar knew he had a good poker face. It had been forged in years living under the same roof as his family. Originally his father and brothers, and then when they passed, just his father. Edgar had a long history of knowing that if he let his true feelings show, only bad things would happen.
It was how he and Gideon got along so well when they first met. Edgar just kicked himself for not being smart enough back when he was a kid to realise that Cass, Cassian back then, had been doing the same thing that he had. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and when combined with his complicated feelings regarding the whole situation, he could feel himself drowning.
In guilt, in anger, in fear, in sorrow. Edgar hadn’t been this choked on his own feelings in a long time. Probably the first time he had to drink blood directly from a source. That had been a very, very bad day.
Edgar shuddered, remembering the screams, the fear, the pain. He hadn’t killed anyone. He would have put himself behind bars if that was the case. Everyone involved in the situation was fine.
His father had made sure of that.
He had also made sure to let Edgar know he was a disappointment, he wouldn’t amount to anything, and it wasn’t his corrupted blood that made him not viable for the title of Head Priest, it was who he was as a person. Even if he was a monster, if he had been somewhat useful, his father would have considered him for the position. They would have hired someone else to put on a show of holy power in Edgar’s stead, but no. Edgar wasn’t worth that much.
In a twisted way, Edgar was grateful for Ava coming into his life. At first he’d fucking hated her. Hated everything that she symbolized, who she was, her fucking happy attitude. She hadn’t known what she was walking into. She had no idea how bad the Vespertine family actually was.
It was only after he’d come back in from a late night feed, always secretly, always hidden, and he had caught her sobbing near the back entrance of the small temple that they had on the property that Edgar had paused. She had been holding her hands, and with a start, Edgar had realised what was going on.
She had been lashed across her hands. This was done to Priests to help jump start their holy powers. It was a common practise, and normally, had little to no effect on the mental health of the Priest who it happened to. Because it only needed to happen once.
Edgar had gotten the distinct feeling that this was not her first time, not with the way that she had been crying.
Something had shifted in Edgar at that moment. A...comradery filling him in a way that hadn’t filled him when it came to his own siblings. Edgar had never been close to them, especially since they had viewed him as a vile monster. A necessary evil.
That was the one thing that Ava hadn’t ever done. She had never viewed Edgar as something lesser than. She had taken to the teachings of the temple with open arms, preaching with her whole heart, winning over everyone with her kind eyes and soft words. It was her healing that had lagged behind.
Until a chance meeting with Fiona had changed everything.
Ava had gotten a premonition upon meeting Fiona, her holy powers had unlocked, and the rest, well, was history.
Edgar had changed in the time that he had been a part of the hero party. It had been years since he had joined this group, and he was kicking himself for not being a better person, by not following the rules that the gods had placed before him. Put into his hands.
He should have known better. He should have done better. The man that Cass was? He was so...compelling. So enchanting, and mean to those who harmed him, but still kind. He had a quick mind, always had, but the way that he moved and spoke?
Edgar was surprised that he had been able to hold himself back this long. Hide away these parts of himself. Edgar wasn’t stupid. He had a feeling that the mission the gods had given him meant that he would probably have to leave their sides. He had seen it in the way that he had put distance between himself and the others when he came back.
Of course he would do that. The message had been fresh, the intent and power of the message strong inside of him. There was also the added effect that he had some foggy memories as well. Edgar was sure that would happen to anyone. If he had been in Cass’ shoes and had lived out a whole other lifetime in the span of a few hours?
Edgar was amazed that the man had come back in one piece at all.
Edgar’s chest ached at the memory of the person he had been towards Cass. Cool, challenging, and an asshole. He had always needled him, thinking that they were on opposite sides of good and evil. He had never gotten closer to him.
Edgar’s breath trembled slightly as he remembered watching the way Cass had frozen when his grandfather had spoken to him. Edgar might have been across the hall, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t seen the change. He had been watching him, after all. Everyone had.
Even Ava had cursed under her breath at the older man, and she hadn’t done that since coming back from talking to the gods in the main temple. She had been rather tame in the grand scheme of things since Cass had helped her. Edgar had no doubt that he was the one who had facilitated that conversation.
It just went to show that Edgar had a lot more to learn. He needed to become a better person. There was no other option.
Not after he’d had his talk with Fiona.
Things...if they had ever been, were done for them. Edgar wasn’t the kind of person who liked to actually be involved in another person’s relationship. Especially if that was of his sister, and a woman who he had great respect for. There was some bitterness inside of him about how it went down, and how she should have told them earlier what was going on between her and Ava, but he also could have some compassion.
It wasn’t like he didn’t understand what being persecuted was like. Edgar lived every day in fear that someone would find out what he was, who he was, and that he would burn at the stake. His father had made it very clear that if someone outside of the temple found out?
He would not bat an eyelash. He would not save his last son. Edgar was fairly certain that the man didn’t even view him as his flesh and blood anymore. Which was fucked up.
He was the one who made him like this.
It could have been his other brothers, but no. He chose to sacrifice the youngest son to save the older ones. The gods had played a cruel joke on his father, and Ava had let him know that some of this was karmic punishment from the gods.
Ava had let Edgar know, not his father. They both had a vendetta against the man. They were not going to tell him that the gods were pissed. He would only attempt to heal himself, absolve himself of his sins. Edgar didn’t want that.
A few beatings here and there was enough of a payment to pay for when his father died and he didn’t get into the holy land and instead he was escorted to where the demons had control. He had played a role in ’killing’ all of his sons. He could pay the toll in death.
None of that really played a part in what was going on right now.
Before him, in his arms, on his neck, was a man barely contained in his own body. A man who had hid this part of himself for the better part of a decade, if not longer, and finally wasn’t able to live like it anymore.
Edgar wept for the man.
He knew about what it was like to hide parts of himself, he just didn’t realise that it came at the literal health of the other man. Granted, they had no idea what he was, even if now they had a few well placed guesses. Edgar felt like such an asshole.
All the times that he had thought that the man was making a deal out of nothing, and he was literally killing himself without fully knowing why. Edgar at least had some protection from the gods that allowed him to live and work around such a holy power enriched environment. It was the whole reason he was from the Vespertine family. Cass...hadn’t had that kind of protection until recently.
Edgar had a lot to make up to Cass. A lot to show the man that he appreciated about the other man, and a lot he needed to-
"Cass, baby, bite harder." Edgar warned again and Cass chuckled. It was such a cute, sweet sound that any annoyance he had at the man hurting him without puncturing skin faded slightly. It was hard to be mad at a man who was so sweet, needy, and clearly suffering. "Do you want me to cut my neck so you can have a taste?" Edgar asked, noticing the way his own voice dipped at the thought.
It was...he had never considered he would be able to share in these kinds of acts with another being. Human or otherwise. It was intoxicating in the same way it was unknown.
Edgar watched as Cass’ breath hitched, his big, bright red eyes widened further, and his gaze zeroed in on Edgar’s throat as he swallowed. It was Edgar’s time to chuckle.
"You are so sweet." Edgar murmured, meaning it as he heard Lucian complain beside him. The man was bent in half, clearly suffering from the ’meal’ he’d eaten, but that was alright. He knew if he thought they were in danger, he’d step in to protect him.
Edgar raised a finger to his throat, swallowed, and allowed his body to shift slightly. He rarely did this, only practised to make sure he never slipped up. He watched as Cass stared in fascination as Edgar’s nails grew sharper, pointed. Great for puncturing skin.
Edgar placed a nail against his throat, felt how easily it cut and pulled it away.
"You have to put your mouth on it right away. It’ll seal up quickly otherwise." Edgar warned and watched as Cass lunged at his throat. He felt the man’s lips lock around the wound, his tongue rubbing the spot with a kind of fervor that had his legs shaking. "Take your time. I’m not going anywhere." Edgar told him warmly, feeling Cass’ pull on his throat.
Edgar was so hard it was unbearable, but he had to keep it together. Feed the little demon in his arms, get him full and satiated, and then he could...deal with the rest of his thoughts.
He wasn’t allowed to touch himself. That was Cass’ meal. Even if his cock ached to be free of his pants, they weren’t there right now. Cass was thirsty. Edgar had a throat. He of all people knew of the hunger that came from being thirsty.