The pure delight of chaotic synchronization with Locke set Bo’s soul ablaze. There was life in their bond, knowledge, comfort, possession. As his gaze lifted to the remaining brother, a tinge of disappointment flickered within him. Taijo was different, but wasn’t he also the same? Bo still struggled to understand where the third fit within their brotherly bond.

Taijo, he called softly, his voice both encouraging and sly. Come.

There was mischief to be made, darkness to explore. Bo’s little tail wagged eagerly, sending a ripple of motion through his developing frame. He would wait for his brother’s answer. If Taijo joined, he would be welcomed into their trio of chaos, three blood demons bound by the night. If not, Bo would let out a disappointed whine before turning to Locke, his eyes asking the silent question: should they continue without him?