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Nimue tilts her head. “No? Mine is a deep russet-colored creek running through a wooded glade.” She closes her eyes, probably to enjoy the vision more clearly. “Can you describe yours, Warrior?”

Closing his eyes, Grayson’s voice deepens, becoming a multitude of tones that make the hair on Gideon’s arms stand up, and that place he sometimes feels, the Goddess, begin to tingle.

Finn and Emmy peer in from the kitchen.

“There’s a vast gray landscape, flat on the banks, with soaring, craggy rocks beyond. The river is massive like the Mississippi, molten and dense like flowing rock. Moving within it are shades of pink and gold. Mostly. But also with streamers of green, purple, and magenta, vibrant blue, and turquoise. There are these pulses of deep red that burst and seem to shift the other colors in endless patterns. It’s never-ending, Luminary. From eternity to eternity, as far as the eye can see.”

Nimue gasps, eyes dazed as if she can see in her mind’s eye exactly what Grayson is describing.

Gideon can’t blame her, as it sounds awe-inspiring and frightening.

Is this what Grayson’s magic draws from? Is thisThe PlainNimue had spoken of in the library?

She jolts awake from her trance and goes to a bookshelf along the inside wall of her dwelling. Pulling a folder down that looks like it might be an artist’s portfolio, she withdraws an old parchment.

“This should be in a museum, I know. But I can’t part with it. It belonged to my mentor, and his mentor, and her mentor, and so on. It’s several hundred years old, I think.” She hands it to Grayson, who can’t take his eyes off it. “Is this what you see?”

“Sort of. It’s very close, but…my river…” He shows Gideon and Nix, who are closest to him, and then Finn, who leans into Grayson’s other side.

All three of them press close, and their proximity seems to relax Grayson enough that he can breathe, as if their bonds help ease the strain of Nimue’s magic.

“The Plain,” Nimue prompts.

“The Plain that I see has more vibrant colors; it’s about a mile across, and it’s moving so fast, I can hardly see the individual strands for more than a moment.”

“Holy fucking shit-balls,” Finn says, and he’s taken the words out of Gideon’s brain.

“Mum, you better welcome your newest guests, or we’re going to lose that front door again.”

“Oh dear, I’d forgotten your Pack Alpha. Don’t go anywhere.”

She gets the door open just in time to see a haggard and fanged-out Jay bracing to kick it down. She blurts out the fastest blessing possible, and he crosses the threshold before she’s even done.

“Jamie!” Nix squeals with glee and jumps into Jay’s arms so he can wrap his legs around their leader’s waist, landing kisses on his face and lips with no care for Jay’s sharp, deadly fangs. He is almost always this happy to see Jay, and Gideon supposes it’s because, for so many years, he hadn’t had the luxury.

Laying eyes on the rest of his pack makes Gideon feels better, too.

“Grayson’s a Wizard, Jamie. Ro, I almost had to eat without you! Oh, and Finn gave me chocolate earlier because Grayson drained our soul. Sorry about that. And this is Nimue and Emmy.”

Waving a hand, he checks with Gideon to see if he’s missed anything.

He has, but Gideon isn’t sure where to break all that down or where to start building it up again, so he just smiles a little to encourage him.

In the next instant, Gideon has a similar armful of very subdued Luca, who smells like burnt coffee and a forest fire.

He wants to ask why, but Luca just presses his nose in between Gideon’s pecs. He hears a soft, “Later, Sugar.”

“I am Luminary Nimue of The Florida Guild.” She bows her head to Jay. “You are Jay Rhodes, Alpha of the Rhodes Pack.” She tilts her head, as she seems to do when she is using her magical “sight.” “Guardian.”

“Thank you for helping my mates. This is Leo, Luca, and…fuck… Rowan! Get out of the fridge. We haven’t been invited. I am so sorry for him. For all of this, really. You seem nice enough…and I’m sorry about almost breaking down the door, but I…”

Gideon groans at Rowan’s single-minded goal to feed their omega, regardless of social niceties.

“I’ll corral the beast,” Finn sighs, and Emmy follows suit with a shrug.

“It’s a spell to keep lawyers and the mean neighbors away. We should go over there before we go. Tell them to be nice.”

Wrong kind of solicitor, Kitten.