As the three of us dissolve into laughter, I can't help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging wash over me. Because this, right here? This is what family feels like.
A bunch of snarky, inappropriate misfits who would walk through fire for each other.
And I wouldn't trade it for all the riches in the realms.
Danica
78
"Holy shit, this place is fucking nuts," Emily says as she plops down at the kitchen island, her eyes wide with awe.
Ever the faithful friend, Sable sits beside her, looking just as impressed. Rhyland, in a rare display of domesticity, pours two cups of coffee for our guests and sets them down with a flourish.
"Well," Emily teases, sipping the steaming brew. "When did you turn into such a softie, big guy? I could get used to this whole 'attentive host' thing you've got going on."
I shoot Emily a warning glare, my eyes narrowing into slits. "Watch it, missy. That's my man you're talking about."
Emily laughs, utterly unfazed by my attempt at intimidation. "Whaaat?" she drawls. "It's a compliment, Dani. Clearly, you're rubbing off on the big lug, and I gotta say, it's a good fucking look on him."
Rhyland, never one to be left out of the snark-fest, lets out a low growl that rumbles through his chest like distant thunder. In one smooth motion, he scoops me up and plops me down on his lap, his strong arms wrapping around me like a cocoon of muscle and testosterone.
"Alright, enough with the chit-chat," he grumbles. "What's the fucking plan here? We've got a stolen Soul Stone, a pack of mangy werewolves, and a whole lot of shit to sort out."
Once Emily arrived, we escorted her and Sable to one of the countless rooms in Lucian's ridiculous mansion. Seriously, who needs this many bedrooms? Is he planning on starting a supernatural boarding school or something?
We're all gathered in the kitchen, ready to plot our next move. But before we dive into the nitty-gritty of our world-saving strategy, I need to know something.
"How's Damon?" I ask, trying to keep the worry out of my voice.
Emily gulps her coffee, her eyes meeting mine over the mug's rim. "He's good. But... I think you should call him. girl."
Instant panic mode: activated. "What? What's happened?" I demand.
Emily smiles calmly in the face of my freak-out. "Nothing. He's just starting to ask questions about you, is all. And since you plan on hanging around for a bit, I think it's best you connect."
I let out a sigh of relief so huge, it could probably power a small wind farm. Damon's safe. Thank fuck for that. But Emily's right—I need to call my little brother if only to reassure him that his darling sister hasn't been abducted by aliens or joined a cult or something.
"Okay, I will call him," I agree, already mentally preparing myself for the interrogation I know is coming. Damon's always been protective, and I feel he won't be thrilled about my little supernatural sabbatical or the lies I have been feeding him.
Lucian and Seraphina waltz in, looking like they just rolled out of bed (which, let's be real—they did).
Lucian, ever the charming bastard, "Oh fuck me runnin'. The Witchy Wonder Twins have arrived." He guides Seraphina to a seat at the kitchen island, treating her like a precious princess, before strolling over to the fridge.
"Gee, Lucian. Your hospitality is just overwhelming. I feel so welcomed; I might just puke rainbows and glitter, asshole." Emily fires back.
Sable waves. Her pink hair bounces as she does.
Unfazed by her snark, Lucian pulls out a bottle of Gatorade and fills a glass for Seraphina. "Oh, where are my manners?" he drawls, with fake sincerity. "Welcome to Chez Lucian, where the insults are as free as the booze, and the eye rolls are always on the house."
Emily doesn't skip a beat. "Aww…did someone piss in your blood bag this morning, Luci?" she says with a smirk. "Glad to see you've got your memories back, and you're not just some amnesic horny idiot anymore." Emily crosses her arms, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "You can drop the whole hospitable host act, golden boy. Not even your bougie-ass Gatorade can make the bullshit you're serving any easier to swallow. So, what's next on the agenda? You gonna wow us with your stash of stale-as-fuck snacks, too?"
Lucian grins andwinks. "Looks like someone woke up with an extra-large serving of bitch flakes," he retorts. "Congrats on the upgrade from regular bitch to supreme bitch—really suits you.
"As for the snacks, I'll have you know my stash is top-fucking-notch. But I wouldn't want to overwhelm your delicate sensibilities with anything too bold or exciting. Wouldn't want you to choke on something other than your own bitchy remarks, now would we?"
"I'm confused," Seraphina murmurs. "Are they…always like this?"
She looks utterly lost by their exchange.
