Page 22 of Sobek’s Joy

Sobek hesitated, then handed over the tool. “Turn it slowly. Don’t force it.”

Jack’s face lit up. He approached the hinge with intense concentration, tongue poking out between his teeth. The screw turned half a rotation before Jack’s grip slipped.

“Like this?” Jack adjusted his hold, tried again.

“Good. Keep the pressure steady.”

“I wanna try.” Rose surged forward.

“After Jack finishes.”

“But…”

“Rose.”

She subsided with another theatrical sigh, but stayed close, watching Jack work with bright, eager eyes.

Timothy had migrated from Sobek’s leg to his lap at some point, settling in like he belonged there - which he did. All three of them belonged in Sobek’s life, along with their clueless guardian. Sobek’s protective instincts flared every time one of them smiled, called his name, or showed their trust in him.

Looking down at Timothy’s dark head, Sobek marveled at the way the child had curled into him as if Sobek was his safe space.

I have to tell Rudy today. The thought surfaced like it did every morning. Right after lunch. I’ll explain everything. About me, about the children, about what we are to each other.

But even as he thought it, Sobek was already having doubts. Because what if Rudy couldn’t handle the truth? What if learning about gods, shifters, and immortality made Rudy run? What if Sobek lost them all because he’d waited too long, built too many lies, let Rudy fall for someone who didn’t actually exist?

“You okay?”

Sobek’s head jerked up. Rudy stood in the doorway - the unstuck, properly functioning doorway - holding a plate of sandwiches and watching Sobek with bright eyes.

“Fine.”

“You looked like you were planning a murder.”

“I was not…” Sobek stopped, aware of three pairs of ears listening intently. “Thinking. I was thinking.”

“About murder?”

“About doors.”

Rudy’s smile said he didn’t believe that for a second, but he let it slide. “Lunch is ready. Jack, put down the screwdriver before you accidentally perform surgery on yourself.”

“But I almost got it.”

“And you can finish after lunch. Come on, munchkins. Food.”

The children scrambled toward the kitchen in a chaotic tumble of limbs and laughter. Timothy paused long enough to pat Sobek’s hand, his tiny palm warm against Sobek’s knuckles, before running after his siblings.

Sobek stood slowly, joints protesting from sitting on the floor too long. When he looked up, Rudy was still watching him with that expression - soft, uncertain, and hopeful all at once.

“You’re good with them,” Rudy said quietly.

“They are easy to be good with.”

“They’re really not.” Rudy laughed, but there was something vulnerable underneath it. “Most people can’t handle them for ten minutes. You’ve been here for hours, and you’re not even twitching.”

Because they’re mine. The words sat on Sobek’s tongue, so ready to be spoken out loud. Because you’re all mine, and I would raze cities for you, and every day I don’t tell you that feels like a betrayal.

“I like being here,” Sobek said instead. At least that was true.