Before he could answer, I spotted Grandpa Easton with his golden locks and logical gaze, and Pops Manic with his mahogany hair and neatly trimmed beard, lounging on a corner couch. With their drinks in hand, they were both obviously pretending to be engrossed in their phones as if they could ignore the smorgasbord of sex around them.
Grabbing their arms, I barked over my shoulder, "They’re taken!" and bulldozed through the crowd like a woman on a mission.
As soon as they saw me, their faces lit up with genuine smiles. Sweet, calm… even as a loud, vibrant moan erupted from a nearby loveseat.
An eager female fairy was spread out wide like an all-you-can-eat buffet, a line of males and females taking turns in what could only be described as a cunnilingus train. As we passed, I heard her purr to the next in line, "What do you want my pussy to taste like?" They would tell her and wait a second before they dove in.
That was a clever trick. Marketable, even. Noticing her white mask with the number four hundred and fifty-eight, I made a mental note to pull her membership file, maybe offer her a side gig. I saw dollar signs all around talent like her.
Once I got Tata and Papu settled on a quieter couch, I flagged a waitress, who brought over drinks for us and refilled the others’ with something a little stronger. I raised my glass and asked, a little too casually, "Sooo, you guys having fun?"
The question was aimed at Grandpa and Pops, but, of course, Tata and Papu nodded like bobbleheads.
"There’s just so much to see," Papu Syris said, waving his hand at the sprawling room. "At Vesta’s, it was more of a performance, a production, but this? This is a sexual playground."
"From what Ezra’s told us, it’s also a huge revenue stream," Grandpa Easton added, earning a grateful smile from me.
Tata Ternin clenched his hand into a fist, his voice dropping into a growl.
"If it wasn’t for those filthy scum rats trying to ruin all of this…. It makes my blood boil just thinking about the attack. When we find them, they should endure fifty years of heinous torture,then starve for another fifty just for the idea of attacking your success!"
Without missing a beat, all four men raised their glasses and chanted in unison, "Death is too sweet when torture stirs the blood."
I giggled, clinking my glass against theirs and taking a long, deep drink.
I nearly spit it out when Papu leaned over and asked, in complete earnest, "So, when are you kids gonna give us some great-grandbabies?"
I choked down my drink, my brain nowhere near ready for a conversation about anything as permanent as offspring.
"Kids? Papu… I need a mate first." It was the first excuse I could think of that might deter them.
Tata and Papu scoffed and waved the idea off like I’d said something absurd.
"No, you don’t," Tata said, laughing. "You’ve got an entire room full of semen just waiting to be collected." He dramatically gestured at the orgy around us. "And don’t worry about support. We’re experts at kids now. You’ll be fine.”Now?That little word had me wondering what the hell my parents had gone through. “Plus, the baby would belong to the Syndicate anyway. No need to drag a mate into it. Adding outsiders always complicates things."
My mouth fell open as I turned to the rest of my grandfathers, searching their faces for some sign that this was a joke, but Tata Ternin was completely serious.
“If you don’t like theanyoneoption,” he offered, like we were picking a dinner reservation, “we can always come up with a roster of studs. Make sure to choose the proper stock, good bloodlines, strong magic, solid family background, and then just get rid of him after the deed is done.”
He shrugged, looking around at the other three like this was the most logical, responsible plan in the world. Did he really think he was doing me some kind of favor? My voice had left me. I couldn’t do anything but stare, stunned into silence.
What the fuck?
“What… What do you guys mean?” I finally managed, my voice sounding faraway. “You all had mates. You were in love. That meant something to you.”
They didn’t know that my siblings and I had made a pact. No fated entanglements. No emotional traps. That tattoo on the small of my back was supposed to protect me. Supposed to keep things simple. Clean. But lately… it had been anything but. My path, once so sharp, so clear, was unraveling beneath my feet.
Papu Syris took a long drink, his eyes shifting away. The other three gave him a look, then slowly nodded like something unspoken had been decided long ago.
Grandpa Easton put his phone down, his full attention landing on me with all the gravity of a weighted blanket. He only ever gave that kind of focus during big family moments, so my chest tightened instinctively.
“I think what Syris and Ternin are trying to say,” he began, with a slight eyeroll toward the two troublemakers, “is that we don’t want you to feel like youhaveto have a mate to have a child.”
He reached out, placing his warm hand over mine. Sincerity radiated from him, and I suddenly felt too raw, too exposed.
“Some supes don’t get that gift,” he said softly. “But children? Children are their own kind of magic. We would hate for any of our grandchildren to miss out on that blessing just because of fate.”
Pops Manic nodded beside him, his voice holding the rumble of low, distant thunder. “We just want all of you to find your happiness, and that might come without a mate. Love doesn’t always follow the same path. Don’t trap yourself into one idea of how it’ssupposedto happen.”
