The Sawyer who stepped out of the woods a few minutes later was as god-like as Saeward had ever seen him. A large raven rested on his shoulder, its wings reflecting blue and purple in the sun. Sawyer was clearly deep in thought. He glanced their way and smiled. “Meet me in the library.”
“Sure,” Draco said.
Sawyer continued inside. The raven remained with him.
“Is he okay?” Saeward asked. He untangled himself from Draco’s arms and climbed out of the pool. Draco wrapped a towel around him and dried his legs as Saeward stood quietly and let him. His mate found comfort in performing small acts of care. Saeward enjoyed the attention, the quiet moments that were theirs alone. He treasured all of his mates, and all of the ways they found to show their love. Some physically intimate, yes, but some were moments like these, with Draco performing a task that shouldn’t make Saeward’s heart fill with joy.
“He’s fine,” Draco answered once he’d removed most of the water from Saeward’s legs. “That’s his thinking face. He’s got a plan.”
Saeward honestly wasn’t sure what to think of that, but Draco seemed proud. He followed his dragon into the house, stopping only long enough to put on some of the loose, comfortable pants Eduard had purchased for him. It was another of those small acts that set his mates apart. Eduard showed his affection through gifts. Saeward didn’t care much for things, so the ones that truly made his life better were a true treasure. Something as simple as a pair of pants that didn’t make him feel confined or uncomfortable.
Their mates had gathered in the library, each of them seated at the long table Sawyer and Henry often used to study. It still held their piles of books, in fact, and Henry had one open in front of him. The newest guardian, Dakota, stood at the door. Waiting. Watching.
Saeward and Draco each took seats at the table. Sawyer paced at one end, still deep in thought. He stopped behind Saeward’s chair and rested his hands against his shoulders. Ward concentrated on sending him comfort. A long minute passed. Silence stretched awkwardly, but only for Dakota, who stood at the door, glaring at them all. Their other mates followed Sawyer’s lead. They stayed quiet, waiting for Dakota to make his decision once and for all.
Join them, or walk away.
Sawyer’s thumbs pressed into the muscles of Ward’s shoulders, the gentle squeeze the only outward sign of his worry. Even though Ward couldn’t see his face, he knew what it would look like. He’d seen that expression on Sawyer’s face countless times himself. Patient. Kind. Hopeful. Loving.
Still Dakota waited.
Saeward reached up and laid his hand over Sawyer’s, hoping his mate wouldn’t mind his intervention. “Come in, Dakota. We need you with us,” Saeward said softly.
His mate’s hands twitched against his shoulders, but not in anger. No, Sawyer sent him a silent thanks through his gentle touch, especially when Dakota stepped into the room. He took the seat closet to the door, scanning the room as he did so. Ward often did the same himself. He had to know where the exits were at all times. He didn’t like to be trapped indoors. Not that he felt trapped with his mates at his side. No, he felt more free than he ever had when he was alone. The new guardian had to find his place, much like Saeward had. Sawyer gently held his shoulders, and Ward squeezed his hand once more before lowering his own to his lap. Some of the tension left Sawyer as Dakota joined them, but he still vibrated with energy.
“We need to mount a rescue,” Sawyer said. “Henry, what did you find?”
“There is a spell in the grimoire, one that will help me direct my vision once I’m having it. It’ll take a lot of power, though, and since I don’t know when the visions are coming, I’m not sure how this is going to work.”
Sawyer moved to the seat beside Saeward and sat down. The raven still perched on his shoulder, reminding them all that they were now speaking to the Chosen One, and not simply their mate. Saeward held Sawyer’s knee, a tender touch to remind his mate that he was there.
“Dakota,” Sawyer said. “How do your visions work?”
“The spirits show me what they will.”
“But can you move freely within your visions? Or do you only see flashes like Henry does?”
“I can move freely. I often must explore to find the meaning in them.”
“And do you know when your visions are going to come?”
“They generally come when I am resting. It would be dangerous, otherwise.”
“Tell me about it,” Henry said. “One concussion, two sprained wrists, a few bruised ribs. I kept my dad busy, but he always said he was both a dad and a doctor for a reason.”
Dakota turned his attention to Henry, and Saeward caught the first glimmer of concern. “Your visions happen at any time?”
“Yep,” Henry said. “And they are brutal. Before I met Sawyer, I was sick for days afterward. Headaches, puking.”
Dakota seemed curious and concerned. “That isn’t good.”
“Nope,” Henry said. “But that’s what I get for having my magic tinkered with. I don’t think the visions would be like this otherwise. That’s just my working theory, but it makes sense, right?”
Dakota didn’t respond, but there was the tiniest crack in the ice surrounding him. Sawyer would be happy to see it, as was Saeward.
“Okay, so we need to figure out a way to safely induce a vision for Henry since he’s connected to Palinouros, but we need for him to have Dakota’s level of control while he’s there,” Sawyer said.
“He needs to have a vision quest,” Dakota said.
