“Relax. You've been here plenty of times, Ice Prick,” I remind him.
All three of these legacies were here all the time when I was little—that, or I was being taken to their houses. Until I was about nine years old, our parents constantly made us hang out. Mostly because my mom is very social, despite how catty Silas's moms were and how snobby the Frosts always acted.
And for some weird reason, my mom has always liked Crypt. She invited him here at every chance. Looking back now, I wonder if she knew how shitty his home life was and wanted him to have somewhere to go to get away from the Immortal Quintet.
It sounds like something she’d do.
Maven’s eyelashes flutter open. She sits up, stretching as she checks out the window. “Fuck. We're here.”
I pick up on the edge in her voice. “Nervous, Boo? Don't be—they’ll love you.”
“Though not nearly as much as we love you,” Everett tacks on with a sly smirk.
“Cut it out,” my mate grumbles. “Just say you’ll burn the world for me or some shit like that.”
“We absolutely will,sangfluir,” Silas agrees, turning in the passenger seat to level her with a heated crimson look. “But if you would like to know the reason why, then it’s truly because?—”
“Stop,” Maven huffs crankily, unbuckling like she wants to get out of here as soon as fucking possible. “You’re just going to drop the stupidL-wordagain to watch me squirm.”
Gods, my mate is so fucking adorable.
We all laugh at how flustered our keeper is as we get out and approach the wrap-around front porch. Just as I expected, the front door flies open, and my lion shifter birth father, Oscar, beams at us.
“You made it!”
He's followed by Declan, who clearly just shifted back and hasn't grabbed a shirt yet. He's grinning ear to ear as he walks up and smacks me on the shoulder. He's my oldest sibling, in his mid-thirties, but he's always worked hard to build a relationship with me despite our fourteen-year age gap.
It helps that he’s the only one of my four brothers who is also a dragon shifter.
“Holy shit! Look at you, all grown up and matched and running from the law.” He spots Maven behind me and grins. “Here she is! Hi there, sis. Welcome to chaos, also known as our family.”
As if to underline his point, two of my other brothers, Cace and Aidan, also come outside with big smiles. A couple of legacies from each of their quintets follow suit. My seven-year-old niece, Quinn, and three-year-old nephew, Bran, skip outside to shout hellos.
It's a barrage of bright smiles and greetings, and I almost want to laugh at how round Maven's eyes have gotten. She's not used to big, warm welcomes, but that’s just the Decimus way.
“Baelfire Finbar Decimus.Tell me it's not true.”
My mother's raised voice makes everyone quiet. They part for her as she marches toward us with her head held high, her one golden eye blazing angrily.
She lost her other eye years before I was born while leading a defensive strike against a surge at the Divide. I've never not seen her with a brown leather eye patch firmly in place. I’ve been told I look like a mix of her and Oscar—her draconic amber eyes and smile, his dirty blond hair and tall, brawny stature.
I mean, clearly I didn't get my stature fromher.My intimidatingly strong, confident, outspoken commander of a mother is all of five feet tall if she gets on her tiptoes.
Still, I feel like a tiny kid again when she folds her arms, pissed off as she looks up at me expectantly. I look at Declan to nonverbally ask what she's upset about. He shrugs and glances at Maven as if he thinks she might be the reason.
Oh, fuck. No way.
“If this is about my mate—” I start to warn in a growl.
My mother sputters and waves my words away like that's the stupidest possible suggestion.
“Is what I heard from Keith Erikson’s mother about what happened at Everbound true? Did that scaly-assed Del Mar actually put acollaron you? On a godsdamneddragon?”
I grimace. That had been beyond humiliating, but I'd almost forgotten by now. Honestly, Maven made it so that when we were alone, I ended up loving wearing the collar—just for her.
In public, I still loathed the damn thing.
“Thanks a fucking lot for bringingthatup right off the bat,” I grumble. “I'm glad I'm home, too. Doing peachy, thanks for asking.”
