Before the girl could answer, Mandy stepped forward. “No. She can only coax life to sprout. What you’re seeing that sudden rush of bloom, that’s Lucy. She’s amplifying Erin’s gift. My wards carry a conduit thread; it seems Lucy’s touch woke it inside the child.”
Lucy and Erin were giggling now, tangled in vines and blossoms. Erin’s eyes sparkled with delight, the tension she had carried in her shoulders for so long finally falling away. Her laughter was contagious, it was the most carefree sound anyone in the house had heard from her, and it filled the room like music.
Mary rose quietly, her towering frame walked to Mandy and laid two firm, steady hands on her shoulders. “It’s time for you to rest,” she said gently. “You’ve had a long journey”
Mandy exhaled, the exhaustion she had been holding behind her composure breaking through for just a moment. She nodded gratefully, pressing a kiss to Erin’s hair before letting Mary guide her to her room.
Erin stayed near Lucy, vines still curling in loose threads around their hands. For the first time since she arrived, the little girl looked less like a frightened traveller and more like a child at home.
Chapter 6
The house had never felt so alive.
For the first time in what felt like forever, every single person seemed to loosen their grip on the constant tension that had been suffocating them. Music pulsed faintly from Barnaby’s speakers, a rhythm that lifted the atmosphere. He was in his element, darting around the room with a plate of snacks in one hand and a drink in the other, laughing louder than anyone else. Nick tried to outdo him by dragging Sam into an awkward twirl, nearly spilling her wine, while Sam muttered half-hearted curses through the smirk tugging her lips.
Even Mary looked lighter, watching the younger ones with something soft in her eyes. Mandy and Erin sat close together, the little girl giggling as she taught Damien how to plait her hair, his large fingers fumbling hopelessly with the strands until Erin snatched the ribbon back and fixed it herself with a triumphant huff.
The room buzzed with warmth and life. The smell of food lingered, plates piled high with cheeses, breads, cured meats, and fruit, an easy spread that encouraged hands to reach, share, pass things around without thought. For once, the heavy cloud of war or danger seemed far away.
Lucy let herself soak it in, her glass cool between her fingers as she leaned back, watching her strange, wonderful family laugh and bicker like it was any other night. ‘So, this is normal’ she muttered to herself.
Byron came up behind her, sliding a hand around her waist, drawing her effortlessly into the centre of the room. Without asking, he turned her gently until they were face to face, his movements were slow and deliberate. The music was not exactly meant for dancing, but he did not seem to care. He pulled her closer, swaying lazily with her in his arms.
“Things will get better,” he bent to whisper in her ear, his breath making her tingle.
Lucy smirked faintly, tilting her head back to look at him.You don’t need to whisper to me, Byron… we can talk like this.She let the thought drift into his mind.
His lips curved in the faintest grin, amused by how natural their telepathic bond had become.
He spun her lightly before steering her toward the edge of the room, away from the laughter, the warmth, the clinking of glasses. She was a little dizzy, whether from the alcohol or the way he held her, she wasn’t sure.
Byron released her hand and moved toward the long table where the food still lay untouched. He didn’t look back, but his voice threaded firmly into her head, sharper this time.Say goodnight to your family and new friends.
She blinked, thrown by the sudden shift in tone.Why?
His voice pressed harder, commanding now.It’s time I put you to sleep. In fact, go shower first.
Her pulse quickened at the weight of his authority; at the way, his words rumbled through her mind like chains wrapping tight. She bit her bottom lip, torn between protest and surrender.
Now, Lucy.His tone left no room for argument.
Her cheeks flushed, but she obeyed, turning back toward the group with a small, almost sheepish smile. She murmured her goodnights, offering a final lingering glance toward Byron. His back was still turned, his shoulders stiff and unmoving as though daring her not to listen.
Lucy entered her room and closed the door behind her, the muffled laughter and music from downstairs fading into silence. She leaned against the wood for a moment, heart still thudding from the way Byron’s voice had filled her head. The command still lingered, pulsing through her like an echo she could not shake. She walked towards the bathroom and started to run the water; steam started to fog the mirror as the shower hissed. She slipped out of her clothes, skin prickling under the cool air, and stepped beneath the heat of the water. It cascaded over her, sliding down her shoulders, her chest, etching its ways down to her feet.
Her breath caught when his voice slithered back into her mind.Are you wet?
Her knees trembled under the weight of his words. She braced her palms against the tiled wall, her body arching forward instinctively.
Higher,Byron growled.Arms up. Higher. And spread your legs. Don’t you dare fucking move.
Her fingers pressed harder against the tiles, her arms stretching above her head as her thighs shifted apart. The water beat down on her, but it was not what made her shiver. It was him. The way he owned her without even being in the room.
The faint click of the bathroom door barely registered over the rush of the shower. She was too caught in the command, too lost in the fire burning under her skin. Then, warm hands. Strong. Sliding along her thighs, prying them wider. Her gasp tangled when he started to kiss her lower back gently before turning her sharply, and suddenly she was staring down at him, his eyes locked on hers, fierce and unyielding. His mouth started to kiss her clit, causing her to shake and bend “Don’t move,” he murmured, his voice vibrating against her as his lips dragged fire from her body.
She cried out, begging, pleading, but his grip tightened, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.
“Close that fucking mouth,” he warned darkly, lifting his gaze back to hers, “before I find another way to fill it.”
