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“What does that mean?”

“It wants what we’re giving.”

Food. Drink. Pleasure. Celebration. Life. Freely.

I look at the three of them.

Rhett catches my expression first.

Of course.

“Oh.”

Ezra closes his eyes. “What?”

Rhett grins.

“Keeper has an idea.”

“I hate when you call me that.”

“No, you don’t.”

He’s right.

Annoying bastard.

I walk toward them and the air changes. Not supernatural.

Us.

One year. One year of learning how to exist outside survival. One year of learning them.

Malakai’s quiet. Rhett’s chaos. Ezra’s ridiculous control. One year of waking up between combinations of limbs and arguments over coffee. One year of being alive.

I stop in front of Ezra. “You still going to make me ask?”

His eyes darken. “Yes.”

Of course.

I grab his shirt. “I want you.”

His breath catches. Then I look at Rhett. “You.”

His grin disappears. Heat replaces it.

Then Malakai. “And you.”

He steps closer.

The garden rustles. I point toward it. “Behave.” and every leaf goes still.

Rhett stares. “That’s still hot.”

“Inside.”

He raises an eyebrow. “All of us?”