Holy shit, was I...jolly?
I waited for my usual internal groan at the holiday terminology, but it never came.
Carefully stepping over Cole’s outstretched leg and dodging Kip’s starfish pose, I wondered how sleeping arrangements would work. A nine-man rotation schedule? Bunk beds? I’d slept like the dead despite being sandwiched between Vix andDane for most of the night. Being surrounded by all of them felt right in a way nothing else ever had.
We needed a bigger bed. Like, comically large. Like, “sorry, we had to remove all the walls between bedrooms” large.
I tiptoed to the bathroom, magic pulsing under my skin. But not in the erratic, terrifying way it had been before. This felt controlled.
Turning on the hot water, I stepped into the shower. Steam filled the bathroom as I closed my eyes, feeling the bonds stirring to consciousness one by one. It wasn’t mind reading exactly, more like emotional weather reports from different stations.
I closed my eyes, wiggling my fingers beneath the shower spray. They tingled with what felt like static electricity without the shock. Maybe I could try something small, like a tiny magical change to the water pressure.
I focused on the showerhead, imagining the water forming a more concentrated stream. A smile tugged at my lips as I visualized exactly what I wanted.
The showerhead sputtered, then shot a perfect arc of water across the bathroom, hitting the mirror with pinpoint accuracy.
“Ahh!” I yelped, concentrating harder. The water curved back into a normal stream, then formed into a series of floating spheres that hovered in the air.
I couldn’t help but giggle. With a flick of my wrist, I sent the spheres spinning. One got away from me and splattered against the ceiling, raining back down in a pattern that suspiciously resembled a penis.
I focused again, this time on ice. A frost pattern spread across the shower door, forming intricate snowflakes that reminded me of one of my men. I was a regular Martha Stewart of magical ice decor.
I concentrated on creating a simple ice cube in my palm. Instead, I produced a perfect ice sculpture of a reindeer with an anatomically exaggerated feature.
My brain was definitely still on last night’s festivities.
After finishing my shower and drying off, Istood naked in front of the mirror. I pictured something festive, because apparently that was my brand now. My magic surged, wrapping around my body in swirls of light. When it faded, I stared at my reflection in horror and delight.
Fleece leggings hugged my legs and had printed Christmas lights that somehow twinkled. An oversized sweater proclaimed, “I LIKE THEM REAL THICK AND SPRUCEY” above an image of a massive Christmas tree.
I stepped out of the bathroom, bracing for chaos, only to find the living room transformed. Gone were the strewn pillows and tangled blankets. From the kitchen came the smell of coffee, bacon, and pancakes. My stomach growled in response.
Cole stood at the stove, flipping pancakes while Dane leaned against the counter beside him, stealing bits of bacon whenever Cole turned his back. Kip arranged berries into smiley faces on a plate of waffles, his tongue poking out in concentration.
“I’m not making your weird egg white omelets, Vix.” Pierce glowered over a mixing bowl. “It’s bonding day breakfast. You’re eating carbs like the rest of us.”
Vix, perched on the counter, kicked his bare feet against the cabinets. “My body is a temple.”
“Your body was a temple of sin about six hours ago,” Dash called from where he was setting the table.
I pushed experimentally at the connections between us, surprised to find I could dial it up or down at will. Useful. Even in magical relationship bliss, a girl needed mental privacy.
“She’s testing the bonds.” Don didn’t even look up from the coffee he was pouring.
Blitz winked at me from his position by the window. “Trying to shut us out already?”
I smoothed my hands over my ridiculous sweater. “Just seeing how the volume control works.”
Nine pairs of eyes swiveled toward me, taking in my festive outfit with varying degrees of amusement.
Rudy, arranging napkins with unnecessary attention to detail, froze mid-fold. “Your sweater...”
I crossed my arms over my chest defensively. “My magic dressed me.”
Kip abandoned his berry art to circle me, poking at the lights on my leggings.
Cole carried a tray that held towers of pancakes and waffles. “Breakfast is ready.”
