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Come to think of it, I’ve only been tasked to assassinate one Nemorisborn—a Gifted man able to change the temperature of water.He was my first assassination in Sadori. I spent weeks in that Divine-forsaken hot country before vowing I would never return.

Just as our horses enter the gate, a person sprints out to greet us. It’s a long way to the house from the gate, so it will take a moment for whoever it is to run to us.

“Bitty!” calls Beans, with a paternal look of affection on his face. “You’re on their horse, by the way,” he leans back to say to me.

“Oh?” is my eloquent response.

As Bitty nears, I recognize them. Their coming-of-age was less than a revolution past, though Nemoris had pre-purchased them. It’s the first and only time I've ever heard of this happening. I remember seeing them around, their pitch-black straight hair tied in a small bun, revealing a shaved undercut. Big eyes with long lashes, square features and a wide nose, and the typical blemish-free sun-kissed bronze skin of a Laguzborn. They’re closer in height to me, just a couple of inches taller. Slim but a fit build. Most stunning was the enormous smile across their face, all dimples and teeth.

I hadn’t known Bitty’s name and we hadn’t interacted. They were the infamous Laguzborn who wasn’t admitted into Osraed until they were four or five revs old. Lost in Laguz on one of the tiny non-country islands and never reported, as the gossip goes. Adding to the infamy was—though everyone tried to force them—they were not suitable to live with the other children in the compounds. No one ever knew why, only that they lived outside of the compound borders. It wasn’t until they aged-up that they moved into secondary and continued life as a normal Gifted Patron. That is until their coming-of-age when, despite there being no official announcement, they were sent straight to Nemoris.

Out of breath, Bitty greets us all and we’re formally introduced. I jump down from Applemint, offering her back to them to ride. They reluctantly accept, not wanting to make me walk, but I insist. Once they’re up, Bitty’s smile is incandescent, and Applemint looks just as delighted.

We continue toward the house with me on foot. Two Nemorisborn women stand on the veranda of the cottage, both clearly related to Beans. That bright, fire-orange hair must be a family trait.

When Ditch spots the two women on the veranda, he bolts toward them. It looked like he was about to bowl them right over, but he stops in time, neither woman even flinching. Beans is getting down as Ditch is cuddling and nudging at the two women, desperate to touch them both at the same time. He seems more like a snowolf pup and not a fully-grown horse. It’s adorable given how huge he is in comparison to these normal heighted women. While the three are obviously related, these two are not giants like Beans.

“Tall father,” Riley whispers down to me, nodding toward them and smiling conspiratorially. I pin my lips together, trying not to laugh.

“And what’s your excuse, you overgrown toddler?” Tovi asks Riley, causing Bitty to snort. “Your entire family is a normal height, while you grew like a thick, red weed.”

Riley tries to push Tovi off her horse and the result is them—yet again—chasing each other. Bitty, Applemint, and I are left alone.

“Are they always like this?” I ask Bitty to break the silence, as it starts to drizzle.

“Yes,” they laugh. “Unfortunately.”

Bitty tips their head as if listening to something, and I look around on high alert. “Can I be rude and leave you here?” they ask. “Mama is trying to convince Beans to leave me behind!”

I nod and wave them on. It takes me a few moments to register their words and realize that Bitty’s Gift must be enhanced hearing. And that they’re likely the one joining our party.

Walking alone isn’t so bad, though the drizzle quickly becomes heavy rain. I startle when Riley rides up behind me on his horse and reaches his hand out to me. I look at his hand, and then his face, and back to his hand, not taking it.

“Do you want a ride to the cottage, or would you prefer to catch your death in the rain?”

I reluctantly grab his hand, putting my foot in the stirrup he’s left available for me, and he yanks me up behind him. I have less than a second before we’re galloping, and I’m groping all over him for something to hold on to. He reaches down and grabs one of my hands, pulling it around his waist and holding it there, riding one-handed. His clothes and leathers don’t do this man’s physique any compliments. He’s ripped. Pure, unadulterated muscle is rippling under my touch.

His hand is hot. Actually, everything is hot. I’m hot. Why is it so hot? My rage flutters and swirls inside my chest, getting feisty. It’s not until we arrive with a screeching halt into the barn behind the cottage and he lets go of my hand, that the rage goes back to sleep.

I slide off his horse with ease. Riley’s bags are already in a pile next to one of the stables. He must have dropped them off and come back out for me.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“No worries. Mama and Frankie would have castrated me if I’d left you out there,” Riley says, grunting as he lifts his horse's saddle.

“Wait. Whose mama is she?”

He lets out a little chuckle. “Everyone’s. Yours too now. Prepare yourself to be smothered by the two of them.”

I must look the way I feel because Tovi walks past and says, “Don’t look so horrified, Mika.” But then adds slyly, “Riley isn’t that ugly.”

He whips his head up to look at Tovi and then me. “Geez. Give a girl a hand, and she repays you with uninhibited disgust,” he says with exaggerated offense.

I make a stuttered sound to defend myself as both of them cluck their tongues, walking away, shaking their heads in fake disappointment. Leaving me alone in the barn to wonder what the fuck just happened.

Inside the cottage, I am greeted with so much that I am instantly overwhelmed. The heat of the roaring fire in the center of the room slams into me. Booming laughter from Beans and—I assume—his sister, can be heard down the hallway directly to my right. Tovi and Bitty are playing a card game at the far end of the room that seems to require lots of table slapping and celebratory whooping. Riley reclines in a massive sofa seat, a drink in his hand, watching me with an intent stare. The smell of food cooking sends my stomach into a frenzy.

Drifting toward the kitchen, finding a smaller, wrinklier, more feminine version of Beans. Standing awkwardly, I try to sniff out the ingredients that might be in the giant pot she’s stirring. Red meat, onions, garlic, and something earthy that I can’t identify.