For a time, real life ceased to exist and Lyle became part of the fairytale. They were the villains of the brother Grimms’ pens, the dark shadows that children whispered breathlessly about, and no one was huffing for Lyle to stay away or hulk back, or admonishing him for his vile existence. With Arius, he belonged on the streets. They were the masters of the dark and the princes of nightmares, complete with Arius’s windblown hair, his own ruffled fur, and their shared grins over the tension in the shoulders and mumbles of the few that unknowingly passed them by. For though he and Arius weren’t seen, they were felt—Lyle could sense it in everything from scent to expression.
They ended their journey by the small plaza where they’d met, but it wasn’t the surface of the park that Arius led Ly
