“Exactly!”
“I didn’t know that.” Koa looked between us with raised eyebrows. “Is that significant?”
“Seri is a lunar witch, so flowers that release their strongest fragrances under moonlight would naturally align with her magical signature,” Kaori pointed out.
“That was my theory, too,” I confessed. “I think my magic influences how they perceive me, and in turn, how I perceive them.”
“Fascinating.” Papa Lucian looked at me, then back at Kaori. “I’ve never heard of such a connection between witch powers and mate scents.”
“It’s not unheard of,” she said. “There have been documented cases of elemental witches having similar alignments. Fire witches with spicy scents, water witches with rain or ocean notes.” She turned back to me. “What other lunar abilities have you discovered so far?”
I bit my lip, suddenly aware of how little I truly knew about my own powers.
“Well, I can draw strength from moonlight. And I seem to be stronger at night in general.” I hesitated, then added, “Also, I recently discovered I can sort of step into shadows? What did Simmy call it, Koko?”
“Shadow walking,” he supplied, his voice gruff with a mix of pride and concern. “She did it down by the lake not long ago. Nearly gave us a heart attack because she passed out afterwards.”
“Ah, yes.” Papa Lucian’s lips twitched. “The Gregory Storms incident. Speaking of which, have you found a new estate manager yet?”
“That’s remarkable, Seri,” Kaori chirped as Koa told his father that we hadn’t. “Shadow manipulation is rare, especially in lunar witches. It’s usually more common in those with stellar affinities.”
“It just happened,” I explained. “The shadows sort of embraced me.”
“Theywelcomedyou,” she corrected gently. “There’s a difference. The shadows recognized your affinity. I suspect you’ll discover more abilities once your magic fully replenishes.”
“I’m looking forward to that! Being without my power feels like missing a limb.”
“A particularly apt description. Magic is an extension of yourself, not merely a tool you wield.”
Throughout our conversation, I couldn’t help noticing the careful distance Koa maintained from his father. He was unfailingly polite to Kaori, engaging with her questions and offering refreshments with perfect hospitality. But to Papa Lucian, he might as well have been serving a stranger. No eye contact. No direct address. He spoke about Papa Lucian rather than to him, as if the vampire king were a concept rather than a person sitting three feet away.
Papa Lucian, for his part, accepted this treatment with a calm resignation that spoke of long practice.
“Don’t mind Koa,” he said to me at one point, when his son had stepped out to refresh our drinks. “This is actually an improvement over our usual interactions.”
But I saw past his casual dismissal to the sorrow that flickered in his eyes, a regret that no amount of regal bearing could quite disguise. He might act like his sons’ coldness didn’t affect him, but I knew better. There was pain there, buried beneath his stubborn pride.
“But it hurts you!”
“Iearnedhis resentment, Seri. His and his brothers’.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I would have an easier time facing an army of hunters than gaining my sons’ forgiveness.”
“But you’re trying,” I pointed out. “That matters.”
“Thanks to Kaori’s influence.” He inclined his head slightly toward his beloved. “She immediately saw what I was blind to for far too long.”
“Thank you for coming,” I said suddenly.
“Thank you for the invitation,” he replied. “Forallof it.”
I knew he meant more than just the visit; he was thanking me for the chance to begin mending his relationship with his sons, for the opportunity to bePapainstead of justLucian. For letting him glimpse the‘ohanahis boys had created without him.
When Koa returned, I caught his eye and offered a small, encouraging smile. He might not be ready to forgive his father for years of using him and his brothers as “tools” rather than treating them as sons, but at least he was trying. For my sake, if nothing else.
And Papa Lucian was trying, too. That counted for something. He’d recognized his failures, even if ithadtaken Kaori to open his eyes. Now he was reaching out, attempting to build bridges where before there had been only walls and weapons.
Watching them, these two proud, stubborn men tiptoeing around each other while pretending not to care, I felt a strange mix of frustration and hope. Family was complicated, something I understood all too well, but it was also precious, worth fighting for.
As Brummy settled at Kaori’s feet, accepting scraps of cheese she discreetly slipped him, I caught her watching father and son with the same thoughtful expression I imagined on my own face. Our eyes met, and she gave me a tiny nod of understanding.
