A second knock. He didn’t move.
“Eurus, you need to open the door.”
Why? The reunion was Min’s idea. He’d wanted nothing to do with it. Zephyrus, Notus, Boreas—they had their respective realms, their separate lives. He didn’t understand whyquality timewith family was so important.
With an internal sigh of woe, he opened the door.
Notus, dressed in an amber robe and black head scarf, dipped his chin in greeting. He was accompanied by a striking woman with equally brown skin, her linen dress humble to all outward appearances, though the exceptional tailoring and exquisite embroidery along the sleeves suggested quality. As it was, Princess Sarai Al-Khatib of Ammara could have made even a sack of grain look fashionable.
Leaning forward, the former South Wind brushed a kiss across his sister-in-law’s cheek. “Min. Thank you for inviting us.” He then turned toward Eurus, gaze wary. “Brother.”
“Notus,” Eurus replied gruffly.
They stared at one another awkwardly until Min stepped forward to take Sarai’s left hand. It was inked by an ornate tattoo—twin to Notus’. “Lovely to meet you, Sarai,” she said, a twinkle in her dark eyes. “Please, come in. How was your journey?”
“It was quite nice, actually,” Sarai said as she wiped her feet politely on the welcome mat. Noting the row of shoes near the door, she toed off her slippers, and her husband followed suit. It was thoughtful of them, Eurus admitted with grudging appreciation.
“Oh, my. This is lovely. I assume the decor is your doing,” Sarai said to Min while simultaneously tossing Eurus a look of outward scorn. Not that he could blame her. After all, hehadplaced a curse on her. She had every right to be angry.
“Not all of it,” Min admitted, teeth worrying her lower lip in shyness. “My grandmother decorated most of what you see.”
“Well, your grandmother has excellent taste. I absolute adore vintage.” One of the oil paintings hanging in the foyer caught her eye. “We stopped at a quaint town along the border. They had the most delicious bread I’ve eaten in my life.”
A half-turn, and Sarai spotted the large, gleaming piano overwhelming the center of the sunroom. Already, she was moving toward it, fingertips fluttering across the ivory keys. “Do you play?”
A second knock drowned out his wife’s response. Eurus’ pulse tripped further yet, as if trying to escape his too-tight skin.
As soon as he opened the front door, a curly-haired explosion caught him around the waist and hefted him into the air. “Brother!”
Zephyrus, dressed in simple trousers and an emerald tunic, smelled of sunlight and sweet grass. He buried his face in Eurus’ chest with a happy sigh.
“Put me down,” Eurus growled.
“Say please.”
Eurus yanked at his brother’s hair until he was lowered back onto the ground. Brow quirked, Zephyrus arranged his curls into place. “Not one for affection, are you?”
Eurus failed to respond as a cooling, seaside breeze tugged at the hem of his shirt. For a moment, he missed his winds so deeply he ached.
“Behave,” the woman at Zephyrus’ side snapped. Her cotton dress, belted at the waist, hugged her every solid muscle and generous curve. She had a blacksmith’s arms.
His brother ducked his head, properly abashed. “Yes, dear.” Yet he gazed at her adoringly. “This is my wife, Brielle.”
Min gaped at the ginger-haired woman. “It’s you!”
Brielle reared back in confusion, then froze. “It’syou. What are you doing here? I thought…” Her mouth fell open. “The man you were running from. That wasn’t…”
Min nodded, fighting a smile. “It was.”
After toeing off their shoes, Zephyrus and Brielle ambled into the sitting room, where Min offered refreshments. Meanwhile, Eurus loitered in the foyer, watching from a distance as his brothers and their wives surrounded his wife. Something softened in him at the sight. Perhaps this reunion would not be so bad, knowing it filled Min’s heart with the joy of togetherness.
Such tender feelings dissipated as, for the third time, there came a knock at the door.
Internally, Eurus groaned. He considered withdrawing to his bedroom and refusing to emerge until sunrise. Knowing how much this meant to Min, however, he went to greet their newest arrivals.
Boreas, previously known as the North Wind, accompanied his family on the stoop. A black coat encased his shoulders, and eyes the fair shade of frost peered out from a narrow, raw-boned face.
His wife, Wren, bounced a toddler on her hip. She wore a sunny dress, her hair pulled into a messy tail. Their son, perhaps a few years older, clung to his father’s trouser leg. With his dark features, he bore a similar coloring to his mother. The youngest, a girl, shared the light eyes and skin of her father.
