Shifting Sands: Soula Deveraine, #3

By Chera Carmichael

Garren doesn't understand how he wound up escorting Soula to the Exhibition Hall for the famed Botanical Gardens Event, in addition to his own entry, he's hiding the truth of an experimental antidote for Lady Arsenic.

 

Soula knows that requesting a favor means it can be recalled at the worst time—and it is. She has hundreds of better things to do than listen to Carson boss her around as a temporary tour guide. Except—Garren is the one 'porting her back and forth and maybe, he's not so bad after all.

 

But he doesn't seem interested in courting her at all and his shadows—scare her. How can she court an uninterested Pareya without giving in to the need to rewind every interaction they have? Can she sort things out on her own? Or will erasing her problems fix everything?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chera Carmichael
• Release date: Nov 24, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201766177

Chera Carmichael

Chera Carmichael (aka Scioneeris) to her TBDH fans is a Writer by night and a 9-to-5 worker by day. Her dragel stories feature slow-burn Poly romances featuring dragons, soulmates, elemental powers and otherwordly adventures.

Book preview

1

Garren — Wrong Side Of The Bed

The kitchen was heavy and stifling. As if the shadows lurking around the ceiling would spill down the walls and smother me if I lingered a half-second longer. The food was already cooked, portioned and plated for breakfast. Preservation charms kept it perfectly heated and in stasis for the exact moment when everyone would make their way to the table on the other side of the room.

I floated a handful of serving utensils out from the large cutlery drawer and sent them to the proper serving bowls with a careful charm.

Everyone was late today.

It was hard to miss the growing pressure in the dining room area that fed off of my anxious thoughts. Normally, I’d hear Orion or Ryder up and moving around somewhere in the house. Today, perfect silence greeted me for the first time in months. It was strange and worrisome.

The last time the house was this quiet, Saera had nearly died.

A restless thread of energy curled through me. Shadows slithered down the walls and twined their way across the floor, silently begging for attention as they gathered around my feet, perceptive as ever. They were only this clingy when I was on the edge of an unpleasant mood.

Ryder’s stern lecture from the previous night had not gone over well at all. Important things were decided to the tune of Margaret Blackthorne’s care being handed over to an elite social Circle that also functioned as a diplomatic envoy between Nevarah and the Vampire Clans. It would happen slowly over the course of the week.

Assisting Military Circles had taken over some of the Belden issues and raided the entire section of the Merrow waterways. They found precious little of the awful cargo that we’d destroyed to keep it out of the wrong hands.

Short tempers, official ultimatums and Saera’s transformed Gheyo ACE rank had only added to the chaos of it all. The next few months promised to be hellish and headache-inducing.

I already had a backup meal plan for stress-soothing nutrition, but I didn’t want to use it.

Even though my instincts pushed otherwise.

Some days, my meticulous tendencies exasperated and frustrated all of them. Most days they were polite enough to try my suggestions at least once or twice. I’d rarely ever had to change a menu because of a complaint.

Which was why now, I tried not to hover near the doorway where I'd be the first one to see if Soula chose to join us for breakfast this morning. She'd been cranky and irritated for the past twelve days, even though her bonding to Saera had upset all sense of normality for the rest of us.

Beyond that, I couldn't pinpoint it to anything specific.

Nothing that was within my small world of influence, anyway. I'd thought of changing her breakfast just enough to add more fruit and less grain, maybe more sugar, depending on how dark her glare would be at this hour of the morning.

She wasn't the most cheerful of Submissives, but that was fine. She was mostly sleepy and growly, like most of our rag-tag bunch in the morning.

Which was why I was trying to wait for her without being obvious.

Sound filled the hallways. Doors opening and closing, sleepy murmurs filtering through the air, punctuated by the occasional half-growl or rumble. It seemed that everyone was up and moving around right on time.

I stayed put in the entryway.

Ryder flitted in from the front room having come down to the shared baths a few hours before, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He looked as exhausted as I felt, his shadows clinging to him as he went.

There was a faint grunt of acknowledgement as he passed by. I offered a commiserating grimace in answer. I knew it would only take him a few minutes and a handful of spells before he made his way to the kitchen.

Orion slunk around the corner, his eyes hooded and dark, evidence of a restless night. I bit back the words on the tip of my tongue, guessing that the glare was meant to mean something. Did you get fruit? He asked, voice gravelly.

Countertop. I tipped my head back in the direction of the kitchen.

He grunted in answer and shuffled further into the kitchen, disappearing around the center island. I heard the usual sounds of his now routine habit in prepping the one thing that Soula would actually eat from my kitchen.

Raw fruit.

And only if Orion or Saera prepped and peeled it for her.

Gentle threads of magic rippled out from the kitchen as he directed the usual set of cleaning, cutting and prepping spells to turn the assortment of fruit into a basic fruit salad. A few minutes later, a fresh bowl of fruit salad floated over to join my breakfast spread at the buffet bar.

Separate receipts? Orion asked, cracking a yawn.

Discomfort burned in my chest, but I nodded. Soula had even noticed that, refusing to eat it if I’d purchased it. I’d only ever know a handful of Submissives to be that sensitive.

Stuck it in your inbox.

Thanks. He clapped me on the shoulder and shuffled for the dining room table.

Approaching footsteps and a nearly magnetic aura tugged at the corners of my awareness, coaxing my attention back to the doorway and off to the left.

Saera.

Her magic was rich and strong, reaching out to me almost carelessly as she shuffled down the main hallway, obviously headed in my direction. Dressed in a pair of fluffy, fruit-patterned pajamas, she spelled her hair to order and cracked a yawn.

Morning. Are we first?

No, you’re second, Orion said, grumpily. I thought you had drills this morning?

I was trying to convince her to go for a run, Saera said. But she got a call.

Orion frowned. Someone we know?

Saera shrugged. You might. Her expectant gaze flickered to me. Morning, Garren.

Ryder’s on his way. I tamped down the rising flush of irritation, because that was something they all did now. Whether they were aware of it or not. Everything was now—we and us—and very little mention of anything else. The early stages of every Circle suffered through it.

The expected compromises and delicate shuffling as ranks settled and personalities meshed. So far, it looked as if Orion and Saera were perfectly fine fitting themselves around Soula.

A sight that left me feeling frustrated—and wistful in the worst way.

She's on her way down, Saera said, gliding past me into the kitchen, leaving a faintly fruit-scented trail in her wake as she headed straight for Orion. I'd steer clear though. She’s still in a mood this morning.

I couldn't find the energy to glare at her, because Saera was the only one besides Ryder to actually pay attention when I spoke most days. At least, when I spoke in complete sentences.

Saera was more like Orion these days. More settled, obviously content and occasionally mirroring Soula's gestures and habits, as if she were completely unaware of doing so. Orion was more subtle about it, but Soula had simply pulled them into her little world and they were content to stay there.

A world that looked as if it should be smoldering, if her stomping footsteps were anything to go by. Saera’s warning was just in the nick of time.

Soula stormed down the stairs with a swirling conversation bubble floating in front of her. I said no, Carson! she snarled. "You don't know what you're asking and I'm not in the mood to give it to you. Pick something else. If you've got to cash in on it this week, then pick something easier. I don’t have those kinds of resources anymore and I’m not asking my family to stroke your ego so you can—no! I already said no! I’m not giving you any more of my—no. Stop asking! You don't get to do that when you couldn’t be bothered to even listen to me all the way through!"

I snuck a glance at Saera, who shrugged, catching my eye. The one-sided conversation continued until Tobien hovered outside, waiting to interrupt her pacing to get to the kitchen. He frowned at her and ducked through, nudging my shoulder gently on the way past.

Soula threw up her hands in frustration, bypassing the kitchen to continue her conversation outside in the hall, a muted privacy spell scrambling the rest of Carson's reply.

I didn't hear what he said to that, but her face turned several shades redder than before and the house seemed to tremble. That’d been happening a lot more lately, since Saera had grown into an ACE rank and wrestled with the new emotions and magic that came with it.

Sometimes I wondered how much of her control was actually slipping and how much was Soula’s temper borrowing some of her magic.

The house did shake a few moments later. My shadows hissed and writhed, plastering themselves to the wall and dimming the overhead lights without warning.

Arielle. That wasn't good.

Garren, Xander greeted, his voice gravelly. Stop encouraging them. His own shadows were tightly wrapped around his shoulders and he seemed to be favoring one leg more than the other today. His shadows were always far more restrained than Ryder’s.

Not encouraging them, I said, shuffling to the side to be out of range of arm’s length. It wasn’t Xander that I minded, but Marcella that was sure to be right on his heels.

Seconds later, she prowled through the entrance, eyes flashing, magic snapping and her lovely hair curled tightly around her face in a thick, wiry halo. Flashes of silver and lavender sparked between some curls as she chose the seat on Xander’s right and dropped into it with a huff.

Tobien settled in on Xander’s left side, nursing a glass of fruit juice. He straightened up when Ryder came through, followed soon enough by Petra. They were arguing passionately about something or the other.

I waited a beat longer, before it was too late—too noticeable—and retreated to the buffet counter, where the breakfast dishes awaited. Taking a plate in hand, I reached for the first serving spoon. I’d already portioned out the necessary bits, extras were by request only.

Or second helpings.

Any special requirements this morning? I glanced around the table, noting that Orion and Saera had left a space between them for Soula.

Something sweet? Petra asked, hopefully. Or chocolate. I’d be happy with chocolate.

I slipped a chocolate breakfast cookie into her plate and sent it zipping over to her waiting hands with a quick charm. Anyone else?

A rumbling grumble of murmurs passed around the table. I sent the remaining plates floating out to the respective places, trying to ignore the awful feeling of overlooking Soula. She’d never accepted a plate from me and I doubted today would be any different.

Not after that stupid pastry incident.

The privacy bubble popped and Soula spun on her heel to continue her angry stomping all the way into the kitchen. She blew past me, her eyes still blazing.

"...of all the—stupid—inconceivable—utterly pointless favors to ask of me—he thinks he's all that! she raged, flopping into her designated seat between Saera and Orion as if she’d always sat there. Someone ought to examine his brain and rewire it for polite behavior without giving him any chance to-! she sputtered, her rage tapering off to a low whine as she took in what her Bonded were putting on her breakfast plate from the dishes in front of them. No—I don't want any of that."

Orion paused in mid-scoop of my famous vegetable fritters. You need some sort of vegetable that doesn’t come in a-

No. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking every inch like a petulant child.

Fruit? Saera prompted, offering the large bowl of fruit salad instead.

A flicker of longing passed over her face, before Soula's next whine turned into a half-growl. He's such a jerk! she exclaimed. I can't even deal with this right now! She popped up from her chair, taking the entire bowl from Saera.

A jerk? Really? Saera prompted. Are you sure? She ignored the look Orion sent her way.

Yes! Soula snapped. He deserves to be rolled in— she stopped, stuffing her mouth with fruit scooped up in her half-clawed hands. She was agitated enough for her dragel attributes to surface, but mindful enough to keep from morphing outright.

Deserves to be rolled in—? Saera continued. She dodged Orion's half-hearted swat.

Another message bubble chimed in front of her, glowing steadily brighter as the message continued to ring, demanding to be answered.

"Oh the nerve! Soula fairly shrieked. I'll kill him. Skin his scales and scrape his bones into a paste for-!"

Better answer it, Orion said, lightly. Or it'll keep ringing,

Soula took a deep breath, pasted on a fairly obvious fake smile, then answered the bubble. She left the kitchen, speaking in terse, clipped tones, her voice raising as another privacy spell went into effect.

When she returned to the kitchen, she was still fuming and the bowl of fruit salad was quite empty.

Anything I can help with? Orion asked. He took the empty bowl from her and handed it off to me.

I took it over to the counter to refill it from the platter where I'd sliced and diced a sizable amount of produce that morning, mixed with a bit of salt and crystalized sugar. I hadn’t expected her to eat it so quickly, but if that was what she was in the mood for—I certainly wasn’t going to stop her.

At least this way, I could make something that she would actually eat. With luck, she would be too agitated to process that it was coming from me.

Yes! Send him on a one-way vacation off-realm and make him have to spend a whole century volunteering somewhere before they let him back in! Soula sat down with a huff. Better yet, knock his stupid head off of his-

You owe him a favor? Saera asked, calmly.

...yes, Soula said, tightly.

Saera gave her a look. Perhaps you shouldn't bargain your favors if they are so difficult to repay when your turn comes around-

I had to, she snapped. If I didn't—he wouldn't be alive! She jabbed an elbow at Orion, her scowl darkening even further. It's not that I don't want to, it's that his timing sucks. Like, really, really sucks. It's the middle of the Hunt, by Arielle's sacred stars!

I wouldn't be alive because...? Orion trailed off. There was a slight furrow to his brow, as if he’d never heard this rant before and didn’t know what Soula was getting all worked up about.

Because if he didn't add me as a plus one on his invite, I wouldn't have made it into the Belden's stupid dinner party and if I wasn't there, then obviously, I would’ve been too late to save your neck! My family doesn’t exactly get along with theirs. There’s no way I would’ve gotten in there, if I didn’t have help!

Her words had the effect of silencing everyone at the breakfast table.

Except for herself, of course.

...I do him one little favor and ask for a scrap of help in return and this is how he repays me? She fumed. I don't have time for this! I don’t have time for any of this. My entire week is going to be ruined from—no, not the week. The month! Everything! I hate him!

You know, Orion began. You never did mention how exactly you-

Oh sweet Ergen, I said that aloud, didn't I? Soula groaned, thunking her head on the table—just as Saera rescued her unused breakfast plate. I didn't mention it. I didn't mention it at all. I said nothing of the sort. You have no idea that I was anywhere other than wherever I was supposed to be at that time and you’re definitely not going to ask me any questions about it!

Orion’s lips twitched. You have mentioned this before, he said, carefully. Though I’m still a little fuzzy on all the details. You keep changing the story.

"The story keeps changing itself! Soula half-growled, twisting just enough to direct her glare to him. And there’s nothing to tell! He’s a selfish, infuriating little-!"

You said that he got you into the party? Ryder said, flatly. There was a faint gleam in his dark eyes as if her words had confirmed something he’d researched.

I said nothing! Soula moaned, pillowing her head in her arms. Absolutely nothing at all—are you listening? She scowled at Orion. I’m serious!

Saera patted her shoulder in sympathy. …if you owe him for something like this, I don’t think you can get out of it, darling.

What is it he wants you to do? Orion interrupted. He ignored Ryder's look, opting instead to tentatively curl an arm around Soula's hunched shoulders.

She leaned into his touch almost at once, a string of barely audible murmurs in his direction. The tips of her ears grew pink.

Saera frowned. He wants you to translate for him at the Botanical Garden Exhibit? What's so hard about that?

My heart fluttered, feebly, a tendril of hope half-buried before it could go any further. I turned back to the buffet counter and pretended to busy myself with the dishes and preservation charms.

Because it isn’t just translating and it's themed! Soula reared up, turning bleary eyes and a stricken face at her ACE. It's themed in the stupidest of ways for things that don't even-

Wear a glamour, Orion said, sensibly. You don't have to-

Participants of an official party cannot wear a glamour, Soula explained, a hint of a whine in her voice. Guests can, if they want to, but he's part of the language interaction committee.

Work? Saera guessed, understanding dawning.

...we're colleagues. Soula sighed. And I mean that as strictly coworkers. None of the happy-fluffy friendship junk that would make this remotely tolerable for any sane person to handle without-

But you asked him a favor and he didn't hesitate.

Oh, he hesitated alright, but I asked him in front of his new Circle, they kind of made him agree. He's still mad. He’s going to insist on this stupid thing as repayment because he knows I don’t want to be there!

The table collectively winced. Her manipulation had worked—for the moment—but now, it was time to pay the price for it. A price that she was most certainly dragging her feet over.

I carried the refilled fruit bowl over to the table, setting it down beside Saera. I knew better than to try and reach around Soula to offer it to her, she was only so animated because she was between them.

This was the most emotion and animation that I'd ever seen from her since she’d arrived here—and, apparently, the same was true for the rest of the table. No one dared to interrupt her at all. They only nodded and smiled, while she ranted away, her mind miles away even if her commentary was still ongoing.

Ryder seemed lost in thought, while the others held varying degrees of barely concealed worry. His shadows simmered gently around him.

Ha.

She was frustrated and vocalizing it, albeit more dramatically than necessary, but that was it. Nothing to be worried about.

Nothing at all.

2

Soula — Carson's Request

Saera and Orion tried their best. Their good humors, however, paled in comparison to my unavoidable grumpiness. It was hard to find some sliver of happiness when my day had already started on a downward spiral.

Right now, the main source of my displeasure was one Carson Langmar, also known as most-irritating-coworker-in-the-Seven-Realms and beyond.

Granted, I knew he wasn't really at fault.

Mostly.

I also knew that he was definitely doing this to get back at me for wrangling an invitation to the Belden’s dinner party out of his Alpha at a less-than-perfect moment. At the time, it’d been easier to take the traditional route—trading favors with someone I already knew—and now, I’d just wrangle enough time around to make it bearable.

Or I’d try, anyway.

My stamina had increased and so had my grasp on the different types of magic that affected my Loops. It wasn’t perfect, by any means, but it was something I could work with for now.

Normally, I wouldn’t mind honoring a traded favor. Especially if the request was made nicely and within reason.

But I hadn’t been nice when I’d demanded it of Carson and he was also returning that, twofold. Namely, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was calling in his favor via long-distance message, I’d probably have my claws in him.

Arielle. I want to wring his scrawny little neck-! I ought to make him-!

No matter what his clients thought of him nor his general positive disposition, I actually worked with him on the kind of soul-crushing deadlines that would make or break friendships. Or workplace coworker relationships.

Ours broke.

Multiple times.

It was nothing short of sheer luck that kept us working together in such a seamless fashion. Kara knew both of us well enough to step in before we ever came down to the point of strangling and bloodshed, but sometimes, it was pretty close.

Really close.

I’d planned his murder at least a dozen times as he’d surely done for me, given our last disagreement.

For the most part, we'd settled on something of a dishonest truce.I’d asked him for that favor, knowing that he'd find some way to inconvenience me in the future and counting that it'd be worth the hassle in the long run. He’d accepted to the tune of promising some sort of suitable payback at some point in the future as long as I hadn’t embarrassed him in that moment.

I just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. I also hadn’t expected the level of pettiness that had come through my morning messages. I was beyond wanting to scream, cry and kick things.

Wrangling that favor meant that Orion was still alive and I couldn’t regret that at all. Still, I was also a bit too close to the urge of wanting claw his smug little face off.

He'd gone about his revenge in the simplest of ways, by making sure that both my brother Ariki and his respective Circle, would not be able to lend a hand, so as not to cause a bigger problem, when I called ranting and raving.

Mostly ranting. The raving I saved for when I called Shayla only to hear some somewhat good news, but still bad-to-me news.

Pregnant, good for her. Bad for me, as it meant that my sister, Dahlia, would definitely not be letting Shayla out of her sight any time soon, much less releasing any of her well-trained Gheyos to my temporary needs. That immediately removed the expected support of my two most trusted siblings and Carson knew that I wouldn’t ask any of the others.

They would help in the same way he would—with favors tagged to my name until the end of time itself. Growing up as a Deveraine meant there were some things best settled in ways that only blood could wrangle. This was definitely one of them.

There were some debts that were best left as they were or better yet, not actually incurred in the first place. Still, I did owe him. If he hadn’t gotten me into the Belden’s house party to steal Lady Arsenic, it would have taken more time and multiple Loops to weave my way through things to get what I needed.

Not impossible, but even when I was manipulating time, it was painfully obvious just how important it was. Staying in Loop was even more trying, though Dad’s advice was certainly helping. Practicing Loops helped, even if I still couldn’t hold them as long as I wanted to. I’d planned to practice during the upcoming week by Looping through my translation work. Not that Carson knew that. He was simply pleased with himself for effectively turning my plans upside down.

Idiot.

I’d had to Loop just to talk myself down from the raging cliff where his smug little conversation left me.

There was, of course, the option of asking Saera—and I already knew how that would pan out—and the equally distressing option of asking any of the other Gheyos also under this same roof to lend a claw.

Not happening.

There was no way that any of them would care to escort me to the stupid event that Carson would be involved in. I could probably get away with a simple pick-and-drop to the location and maybe just ignoring the whole escort-required thing if Carson wanted his head to stay on his shoulders.

When the doorbell rang, I had the sinking suspicion that it was exactly who I didn’t want it to be.

By the time I reached the front door, Orion trailed after me, still munching on a slice of warm, buttery toast. He was hovering, but trying not to be obvious about it, likely picking up on my apparent distress, now matter how much I tried to keep it from showing in our bond.

My guess was right, because it was Carson on the steps of the front porch, decked out in one of his presentable work outfits, face tilted up to the morning light and expression as serene as if he were relaxing at a beachside resort.

Clawing his face off—yes. I really did want that.

My hands twitched. Orion grabbed the one closest to him, still blithely chomping on his toast. His expression was a tad curious, but he held his tongue.

Soula—there you are, I was starting to—hello there, he said, casting an appreciative glance at Orion. Is this one of them? Friend of yours? He’s definitely out of your-

You have horrible timing, just like I’ve always known you to have, I snapped. I told you I’d come. You didn’t have to come here to make a scene. I didn’t even finish—we were at breakfast. Why are you here? I cast a glance up and down the street to be sure that there weren’t any prying eyes.

It looked like he’d come alone, which was good. I couldn’t sense anything out of the ordinary for the street, but I’d also learned that trusting the shadows and trusting my eyes were two entirely different things.

You have a habit of breaking promises you really don’t want to keep, he said, pleasantly. So I thought I’d save you the trouble of having to sneak out of our little agreement and make up excuses. He rocked forward on his feet and flashed a smile at Orion, hand extended. Good morning, I’m Carson Langmar. We work together at the Office of-

His name’s Orion, he’s mine and hands off, I said, swatting Carson’s hand away with more force than necessary. Let him eat his toast in peace.

Orion, to his credit, merely hid his smile in the next bite he took from his slice of toast. He nodded in greeting and squeezed my hand, gently.

Yours? Carson’s eyebrows arched clear up into his fluffy hair. You’re bonded? His voice dropped to a whisper. Arielle—I didn’t think you’d have it in you for this Hunt. Then again, it is one of those things, right? You can’t really refuse them. Not without consequences.

Shut up. You can find the time to solidify things and it’s impossible for me? I snorted. What’s that supposed to mean? Don’t answer that or I’ll really want to claw your eyes out. And don’t just stand there, go back wherever you crawled out of—

I didn’t get a chance to chase him away on account of Orion backing into the house and pulling me along with him, to permit Saera to step out onto the front porch.

Her wary golden gaze swept up and down the street as if she were looking at something that none of the rest of us could see. Her subtle uneasy shuffle, set my instincts on alert. Soula, she said, mildly. Orion. You shouldn’t stand out here with the front door open. It’s not—good.

I ducked, faintly, when her hand dropped on my head, tangling briefly in my hair, before she stepped out onto the porch, her posture screaming of dominance and her Gheyo ACE rank.

Carson flinched under the weight of her heavy stare, immediately avoiding her gaze. The tips of his ears turned pink and he inched back a few steps. C’mon, Deveraine—you owe me and you know it. His brow furrowed. Is it even still Deveraine?

I should’ve tried harder to make him leave.

Instead, I glared at him. How dressy does this have to be? That night or less? I glanced down at my comfy work-from-home loungewear. Warm sweatpants topped with a matching sweatshirt promised plenty of comfort and coziness for the majority of my day and the translation work I had planned.

An event out and about in the Hunt meant dressing up and adding everything from every slip of glitz and glamour I owned, to playing up whatever good features I had to offer. I’d done this sort of showy trade-off before.

For Carson’s favor, I’d simply be an extra available pair of hands, that also happened to be good at translating.

You can bring a guest, Carson said, amused. I don’t mind. I don’t think the event coordinators would care either. His gaze flicked curiously to Saera, and away, before he could gain her attention. He didn’t try to introduce himself again.

I’d really rather not, in fact, I’d prefer that you rescheduled this whole mess for another time, I said, stiffly. In case you haven’t noticed, the street is deserted, you only came to this house because you ‘ported to whatever signature of mine that Kara has on file and-

Inside, both of you, Saera said, abruptly. Her eyes flared gold and she caught Carson by the collar, all but hauling him into the house. Quiet, she growled, when he made to speak.

The front door shut tight behind her and her eyes burned gold as shadowy wisps locked and sealed the door into place.

I suppressed a shiver, grateful for Orion’s arm that was now around my waist. He was warm and comforting, even as I processed what I’d just seen. Sharpened slivers of shadow racing down the street with dark intent contained within.

They were headed straight for our house.

Don’t worry. Wards will hold, Saera said, briskly. Now, you left your plate at the table. Kitchen’s this way. You can walk and talk.

3

Soula — Unexpected Escort

Carson stared at me in a mixture of exasperation and understanding. That's why you don't want to come? he said, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed. I didn't realize that you actually had something-

You never realize that I have a reason for my-! I began.

Toast, Saera said, calmly. She nudged my arm up, prompting the slice of toast to hover in front of my mouth, effectively cutting off the argument before it could restart.

I scowled at her, but took another bite of fruit, despite the fact that the toast actually looked nice. Arguing with Carson was always counterintuitive and I had enough headaches at present to give into the easy way out.

…I said I didn’t realize, Carson mumbled, eyes averted. Why didn’t you just say that in the first place instead of-

You see our dilemma then? Saera said, smoothly. I don't suppose you have any Gheyos of your own to spare? I'd hate to assume, though I would guess that if you're here on your own during the Hunt at a place like this, then you’re not much better off in terms of-

A place like this…? Carson trailed off. As if on cue, he shivered. Right. That would be a no. Haven't exactly gotten that far.

That's because you're still hunting, I grumbled. "Like me. Which puts us at the exact same spot with no more than-"

Toast, Orion prompted, next. He curled an arm around my waist, pulling me into his side, to offer warmth and enough contact to take the edge off of my grumpiness. Please? He added, a beat later.

I scowled at the bread, irritated at his sneaky handling. Reluctantly, I chomped a bite out of it, chewing slowly. A moment later, I fought the urge to shudder when Carson did. We'd both felt the pulse of darker energy that had accompanied Saera’s explanation.

I don't mind accompanying you, but my hands are full today, she glanced at Orion. I don’t suppose you’re free? I heard your entire list of things you didn’t finish last night, but-

He shrugged. If you need to, I guess I can shuffle some things, but the timing’s still bad and we’re running close to deadline-

No, no, no! I protested. You don't need to change your plans for this idiot’s lack of common courtesy and-

If they want to change them, that's their business, Carson argued. He puffed up now, like a spiky-haired lapdog. Or are you always so controlling that you have to-

They aren't changing them, I said, sternly. They don't need to. What they're doing is way more important than showing up to some kooky garden show because you're in the mood to dress like a flower and walk in like you have a-

Garden show? Saera turned to me. A variety of expressions played across her face, before she settled on one that looked vaguely like a cross between a grimace and a pout. You don’t mean the Botanical Garden Exhibit, do you?

Flowers, trees and insectoids, I said, stifling a shudder. No, thank you.

And Fae, Carson reminded me. Lots of Fae. Every different Fae Clan, mind you. Specifically, today is the day for Earth Fae. I'm sure you'll see something there that'll catch your eye—I mean, you’re still hunting, right?

I glared at him.

He winced. …sort of hunting?

I didn't answer. No matter what he offered, I didn’t want to find something else that would catch my eye. I was perfectly fine with Saera and Orion.

Mostly fine.

Sort of maybe mostly fine. There was no need to add Fae to the mix. Or anyone else, for that matter.

I was definitely fine without considering the other ridiculously attractive dragels also living under the same roof.

Sweet Ergen, I really didn't need to think of them now. Warmth crept up my neck, burning up to the tips of my ears.

It's that same place where they hold the annual hybrid gardener's contest, right? Saera looked to Orion for confirmation. She tapped a finger along her chin in thought.

He nodded. They host it, plan it and schedule their big events to coincide with the Hunt. It's usually a big deal for the Fae, they don’t do it every decade like we do. More like every century or so. It’s a lot for them to leave their realm to step into ours.

That makes it easy then! Saera said, delighted. You can always ask Garren to accompany you. He won't mind.

I choked.

Garren was the absolute last person on my mind—and he definitely wasn’t Gheyo material at all. I’d yet to even pick out any of his actual Pareyic tendencies, apart from the fact that he ruled his kitchen and didn’t want me anywhere near his stupid pastries.

Well, less of the whole pastry fiasco and more of the perpetual growl-scowl-whatever it was that his face did when I was around. No way was I going to even try and wade through all of that baggage.

I leaned away from Orion’s follow-up attempt to feed me another bite of toast. Mind? Are we talking about the same person here? He hates me! He barely even talks to me, much less looks at me and don’t even get me started on all of the-

He doesn't hate you, love, Saera said, blatantly amused. He's just a bit—reserved. He’s always been like that. It’s really nothing personal.

"Reserved? Reserved is for things like concert tickets, special dinners in fancy restaurants and pre-order bonuses for random junk. Not people. Not Garren. He'd probably hate standing next to me for longer than five minutes!"

That's not true, Saera began, her eyes darkening faintly. You can’t just judge him at face value, love. You’re only going to-

I can too! I snapped.

Snatching the toast from Orion’s hand, I stuffed the entire thing in my mouth to keep from having to finish saying what else was on my mind about Garren. It was good toast and that made me hate it even more. I’d had next to no positive experiences with him and I wasn’t in a hurry to remedy the oversight.

Or admit that he was good at baking because it was good toast and I knew what his magic felt like.

I'm sure he wouldn't mind escorting you, Orion said, slowly. Even if you’re just going by instinct, he won’t be able to do anything to you. It’s against his nature. Though you're probably right. Reserved isn't the word that comes to mind when I think of him. He's mostly just quiet. Very quiet—and observant. I’m sure he wouldn't mind taking you with him-

Oh not you too! I spoke around my mouthful of toast. You’re not listening to me! I don't want to spend the day with someone who-!

You only have those two? Carson's smugness resurfaced. Really? And here I thought you had a full Circle of-

Can I please push him off the roof? I pleaded, trying and failing to pull free of Orion's grasp when he caught me before I could scramble to my feet, murder-eyes focused solely on Carson. It wouldn't hurt him much. He’s got wings and it could be a passable excuse for-

No, Saera said, firmly. She leaned over to pat my head, a little harder than necessary. We don’t push people off of rooftops because they’re being irritating.

I pouted up at her.

She sighed. We push them down stairs so it looks like an accident.

Hey! Carson edged further away from me.

No one is pushing anyone down any stairs or rooftops, Orion scolded. Saera—lead by example, please?

She shrugged. Sorry. I—Soula, sweetheart, you gave him your word. You need to honor that. He helped you out in a tight spot, didn’t he?

I turned the pout into a scowl. Stop making sense.

Her lips twitched.

Carson sighed, scrubbing at his face with one embroidered long-sleeve. Look, just get whoever you need or whatever, alright? Please? I need to get going and I really need you to be there—specifically, I need someone who won’t stab me in the back out of spite.

Brave of you to assume that I won’t- I glared at him.

He heaved another sigh, leveling serious eyes at me. Soula. You owe me.

I sagged back against Orion, annoyed. He had me there, because I did have some semblance of integrity as far as new favors went. Even with all of the chaos from Ryder and the rest of them, since stumbling into their whole mess.

Believe me, I can't forget, I muttered. Fine, but this makes it even between us, you hear?

Perfectly, Carson said, grimly.

Great. Let’s go before I change my mind again. I wrestled free of Orion’s warm hands and popped to my feet, ready to head back to the front door.

Carson was already ahead of me, flinching minutely as he passed by.

I rolled my eyes behind his back, wondering how polite I’d have to be by Fae standards. The Botanical Garden Exhibit was one of those sort-of-a-big-deal-if-you’re-into-it kind of things. My personal misgivings aside, I knew why Carson wanted me there, never mind the favor.

My penchant for attention to detail and twisted understanding of perfectionism would probably have me taking over all of his work before the day was over in an attempt to make everything work smoothly and properly.

Carson, you idiot…why couldn’t you do this last Hunt? Why now? I have too much to do without having to figure out how to Loop in and out of another place… My thoughts swirled together in a headache-worthy haze as I shuffled out of the kitchen.

Garren, you don't mind if she tags along with you, right? Saera asked, pleasantly.

I jerked around to see that Garren had indeed followed us all the way to the dining room table, lurking in the shadows just out of Carson's sight.

No wonder Carson had flinched.

I hadn’t even felt him until I’d passed through.

A sheepish smile plastered itself across my face. The toast sat heavily in my stomach. There was no way he hadn't heard me. …I didn't really mean that you're-

It doesn’t matter. Garren said. I’ll escort them this once. His face was blank and expressionless as usual, his voice a dull monotone. But his eyes held a glimmer of amusement.

He’d definitely heard what I’d said.

I couldn't keep the blush off of my face, even as my cheeks warmed. Right. Sorry about that.

He didn't answer, only looked beyond me to where Carson was backing down the hallway to the front door.

4

Garren — A Portal Outside

Saera smirked as she waved me down the hall after them—at such an angle that even if Soula looked back, she wouldn’t see. I had no idea what kind of expression my face had, but it must’ve been good, based on Orion’s snickering.

I knew what she was doing.

Returning the favor, considering how I’d all but pushed her in Soula’s direction when she’d taken up residence in my kitchen after the whole confrontation with Xander and Zoe. On one claw, it was great to have Zoe out of the house—and far away from my kitchen.

Wherever she’d ended up wasn’t any of my business, so as long as she never showed her face anywhere around this place again. In the meantime, Saera was likely to keep on poking her nose where it did not belong.

And I would suffer.

Not too terribly, because she never pushed at my limits, but that meant everything else was fair game.

She’s trying to help. Trying to help. Just—don’t think so much into it…

The thought teased at the corner of my mind as I mentally blocked them both out. They were disasters in their own right and I was sure that Soula had done half of the courting at least, that had brought them together.

I did not need their help on potentially attempting to court her on my own—Soula hissed at Carson, sending him stumbling into the front door. The solid thunk meant there would be a bruise.

Alright. Maybe I need a little help…

I trailed after them to the front porch and down the stairs leading to the wide, empty street. The wards peeled back at my silent request and allowed them to step through to stand in the middle of the street, where it’d be a perfectly level casting ground.

The silence of our surroundings was unsettling, but not unexpected. Orion and Ryder had worked hard, after all, to be sure that our wards and spells would keep any potential neighbors from moving into any of the large houses lining both sides of the street.

One or two probably belonged to a few notable Clans, but Orion’s initial intent in his magic had held. There was no one there to interfere with our business. It was both a cursed and blessed detail, because no neighbors meant no secondary warnings.

We’d have one chance and nothing else.

I slipped out of the front door, spelling it shut behind me.

Soula and Carson grumbled and growled at each other as they checked their standing positions on the faint markings etched in the street. Petra had seared them there as a joke, commenting that Tobien couldn’t find it without some sort of obvious mark.

She was partially right and partially being an annoying brat when she’d done it. But it served its purpose now as I watched Soula and Carson. She’d practically slunk down the stairs as if expecting someone to call her out on standing in the street, while Carson breezed past as if he did this every day.

I didn't see a way to reassure her, no matter what my instincts wanted.

Something as minor as a pat on the shoulder would only add confusion—especially after her comments to Saera. It wasn’t any trouble to take her with me—or to go with her—whichever way she wanted to look at it.

In fact, it was already a welcome change from the usual in-and-out routine I favored for this event. There was always more unnecessary hustle and bustle, thanks to the Hunt, but it also meant better funding and possible collaborations with inquisitive minds just passing through the realm.

For me, it was a nice break.

My project this time around was something a bit more useful.

Sort of.

The Botanical Exhibit was a favorite event of mine. A chance to show off what I could do with my magic and my mind, instead of resorting to some sort of physical demonstration like a Gheyo. Maybe it was easier to indulge that side of my nature, but it wasn’t always the most useful.

The last time, I'd chosen one of the rare moonflower trees, earning a sizable monetary prize and some rare ingredients for my own experimentation. It was a safe bet, attracting enough viewers and garnering a few nods of recognition, while I inspected my competition.

This year, I'd come to win. Prizes could be almost anything, depending on the sponsors and possible new equipment from certain manufacturers.

Anyone with a sliver of talent would be hard-pressed to pass up such a chance with such endless opportunity hanging in the balance. Even with the current state of things and Ryder's usual warnings, he'd shrugged at my initial request and declared it to be my own choice.

As it always ever had been.

Soula was the unexpected variant in the middle of everything. From the first time I'd set eyes on her, to the way she carried herself now.

Chin held high, posture almost impeccable as if attempting to use her height to counter Carson’s brashness.Thick, dark hair rippling down her shoulders and wide, expressive golden eyes that rounded out her noticeable features. Softly bronzed skin, full dusky lips and just enough curves to highlight the fact that she was every inch the woman that had soul-screamed our connection into existence.

Since adding Saera to her growing list of Bonded, Soula had somehow managed to make herself even more attractive without trying. Her wild, sharp magic had tempered itself enough to soften at the corners to something almost beckoning.

No matter how I looked at her, there was something about her that was fragile and yet, strong in the same breath. It was hard not to watch her, trying to wrap my head around the walking contradiction that was now playing out in front of me as they circled each other out into the street, still bickering about something that sounded vaguely like proper outfits and making a statement.

Carson was nicely dressed, as far as Submissives went, but Soula—Arielle, save me.

At his teasing prompt, I'd almost expected her hair to burst into flames like Petra's did, whenever her temper had reached the end of all restraint.

Instead, Soula had simply stepped away from Orion and snapped her fingers in an odd, zig-zag shape in front of her—once for her hair, once for her outfit and a third and final time for the finishing touches.

The end result left me wondering if Ryder