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"I spent the first two decades of my life being trained by her to prepare for my initiation into the Order. Hours every day which became longer the older I grew. She taught me the history, the lore, the use of my powers, the control of my emotion. She was the only mother I really ever knew."

"Who were your parents?" I ask, shocked that I've never had this conversation with any of them.

"I don't really remember them," he says, his eyes losing focus as his mind is drawn into the past. "My brothers and I were born on a farm. Our parents were poor, and when they discovered we had powers, they feared us cursed by demons. The Druidic Order heard about us and sent Lyx to acquire us. My parents were more than happy to take the gold to get rid of us. Hell, had they had any money to begin with, I think they would have paid to have us taken away."

"Did you all develop your gifts at the same time?" I ask, my heart breaking for the little boys whose parents didn't want them.

"Strangely, yes," he says. "It was after Cole was born, once he developed his light powers at age two. Somehow that triggered it for all of us. Liam burned down part of the barn that day—which likely explains why our parents thought we were a curse. Our magic was so raw and untapped, we caused only grief for them."

I reach for his hand and hold it in mine. "Did you ever see them again?"

He looks away, unable to meet my eyes. "Their village was destroyed when we were cursed and lost control of our powers." He pauses, and the weight of his words hit me with a visceral force. "That's when we decided to end our lives."

Now tears are burning my eyes, and I let them fall. I know how awful that time was for them. I remember the pain when they first told me what happened. But this…this is so much worse than I even imagined. I want him to know that I see his pain and hold space for him.

He lifts his free hand and runs the pad of his thumb across my cheekbone, stealing my tear. "It has been many, many lifetimes, and I am not who I was then."

His hand, still caressing my cheek, moves to the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pulls me forward.

With an urgent need he claims my lips, pulling me onto his lap as he does.

Like an earthquake, everything shifts between us, and I adjust my legs, straddling him on the couch to get closer. His hands fall to my ass, pulling me even nearer, fingers digging into my flesh as he deepens our kiss.

I nip at his lower lip and he growls and hardens beneath me, pressing himself between my legs. An agonizing need crashes through me, creating a temporary amnesia as to where we are.

It's not until the door opens that we both remember we are guests at the Ifrits home. Startled, I roll off his lap into the couch next to him and he casually covers his pants with a throw pillow.

I can feel the blood rushing to my face and know within moments I'll look like a disheveled beet.

Ifi raises an eyebrow at us as he walks in. "Looks like you two have been having fun without us," he teases.

They both left their white lab coats downstairs and Ifi is dressed in torn jeans and a band t-shirt. Elal is wearing more of a Renaissance style outfit of dark leggings with a long sleeved shirt and doublet. Elal heads to the pantry and pulls out a bottle of wine. "Ifi, leave them be." He glances at us. "Care for a glass?"

"Sure," I say. "Thank you."

Elal pours four glasses and brings them over, then they both take a seat across from us.

"Was the lab too badly destroyed?" I ask, sipping my drink.

"Thank the fires, no," Elal says.

"But it's an unholy mess nonetheless," Ifi interjects, already on his second glass of wine. "Still, worth it. Who else can say a dragon blew up in their morgue?"

Elal shoots Ifi a glance that is absolutely couple-speak for, "she was their friend, don't be such an ass." And Ifi’s face changes to, "by the fires you're right, what a nob I'm being."

At least that's how I interpret it. But Ifi stammers an apology. "I can be an insensitive prat sometimes."

"It's fine," Sebastian says, finally able to move the pillow off his lap. "It was pretty remarkable. What do you think caused that?"

"My best guess is when Ifi pulled her dying wish from her, it cleared her soul of the karmic energy to move on," Elal says. "Or another magic interfered because they didn't want her sharing anything more."

My breath hitches at his words. "Is that possible? Could she have said more? I thought you only got one wish, but she had two."

"Oh, the dead can say whatever they damn well please," says Ifi. "They just usually don't have much umph left in them, if you catch my drift. But the Light Dragon, she was one of the most powerful beings alive. I’d bet she could have solved her own murder if she could’ve spoken longer."

"But who could have done that to her?" I ask. "What kind of power?"

"That's why that particular theory seems most unlikely," Elal says, casting a frown at Ifi. "Because it shouldn't be possible. Not with the spells and counter spells on this place, plus Okura and Akuro guarding it. Likely she'd fulfilled her death wish and moved on."