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Everything had changed again, but they were dealing with it as a family, and they—well, they had their own home. And it was a grand one. A cabin slash A-frame slash Victorian that had sort of grown up and together organically and that went deep into the mountain.

Cosmo loved it.

And he’d remade his little den, his bower, to be so reflective of him. It was full of Victorian floral wallpaper on a deep green background, a huge bed with hangings that kept the cold out and the secrecy in. Pillows and tassels and books and Regency tables and bookshelves that hid a secret room…

He adored it.

He took a cookie from Corbin. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. It was just a vision. Right? Half the time, they don’t mean anything.”

“And half the time they mean an apocalypse,” Cullen muttered.

“Mmm.”Gee thanks, bro.

You’re welcome.Cullen winked at him, and he rolled his eyes. Ah. Family. They were assholes, but he was so glad they were here.

His particular talent was a lonely one at best. If he had to go it alone, he would be certifiable by now.

Chapter

Two

Hawk Fitzhugh settled on the heights between Wolf Creek Pass and Pagosa Springs. He’d done several flyovers at night, but he needed to view the house during the day.

Thankfully, he had excellent long-range vision. Not so helpful was the fact that his dragon magic eyes made it impossible to pass as human. Good thing some kindly soul had invented dark sunglasses.

He’d missed the opening of the veil by several months. He wasn’t sure how long. But it was nearly the summer solstice now, and he’d been…traveling.

Before the veil had opened and closed, he’d been hibernating. He’d been asleep for nearly two decades, the human world moving too fast for him. But he’d awakened in a cave, his house just…gone.

He wasn’t certain what magic that had been, but it had happened. And then Hawk had felt the tug. The call to go East, of all things, leaving his Northern California aerie for Colorado.

The house sat in splendid isolation, the magic signature throbbing from it. It was unique—part cabin, part A-frame, parthishouse.

No question.

That stained-glass tower window was handmade by him.

How had it come to be here? He would never believe someone had stolen it. Not in any real way. Magic could be amazing, but that kind of malfeasance would have awakened him. An angry mob always had, for instance. Long before the mob had reached him.

This felt…natural.

As if his house belonged there.

People were living in the house. He saw smoke, doors opening and closing, and movement in a garden that was utterly breathtaking.

He couldn’t make out a lot of details, which was odd. Because whoever it was down there made his heart pound. Made his whole body buzz. That was—It was a hell of a sensation. And not a familiar one. He peered closer, trying to sharpen his vision. He couldn’t just fly down there; not at this time of day. Even if he cloaked himself in shadows, he would cast a shadow.

He saw a figure appear at the top of the cupola, and for a moment, he swore eyes were resting on him.

Impossible. He was hidden in the trees, and he was camouflaged as well. There was no way someone that far down could see him no matter who they were.

But maybe he called to them as they did him.

That wasn’t the strangest idea ever. His home wasn’t going to allow just anyone in his house. Maybe he knew them somehow, though his gut told him no.

And his gut was rarely wrong.

So he stared, trying to make out anything that he could while he fought the urge to take to the sky.