Page 6 of Beyond the Storm

Castor snorted. “Yeah, ‘cause you would’ve blabbed and ruined the surprise.”

I looked at Gray. “So when I contacted you about the letters?”

“I had no idea,” he replied.

“Thank the gods for that,” Alastair said under his breath.

The tension I’d carried since finding the first box earlier gradually dispelled. We weren’t about to face another conflict. Our peaceful days weren’t ending. “What was the purpose of the vague letters?”

Bellamy smirked. “Just a bit of fun at your expense.”

“Asshole.”

“I’m shocked you didn’t figure out it was me by the ‘sinful delights and wicked whims’ part.” Bellamy chuckled. “The penis confetti was my idea too.”

“In my defense,” Simon said, “the letters weren’t my idea. I only wanted to throw you a surprise party.”

“And we wanted to fuck with you,” Castor added with a lopsided grin. “But it was also our way of making sure your grumpy ass actually showed up. If you knew it was a party, you’d bail.”

“So, we wove a little mystery to pique your interest.” Alastair grabbed Lazarus’ hand. “I wrote the first note. Cas and Bell wrote the second.”

Castor nodded. “The turning of the year equals your birthday. The fire rising beneath the moon is… well, that.” He nodded to the large firepit.

Phoenix summoned a fireball and set the wood ablaze. The air warmed almost instantly, and I guided Simon closer to it.

“I drew the map,” Daman said, cradling a bundle of blankets in his arms. A blanket that had a tiny hand reaching out. Daman lowered his face to kiss his son’s fingers.

Warrin smiled at them before leaning down to the baby and nuzzling his nose.

I barely recognized Daman. For as long as I’d known him, he’d been so bitter and unfriendly. But with the birth of his son four months ago, his aura had lightened. It had happened once before when he’d realized Warrin was his mate. Sorin’s birth had strengthened the light inside him.

Envy and I might not ever see eye to eye, but I was happy for him.

“Gimme baby Sorin!” Gray rushed over, grinning from ear to ear as he gently tickled the baby’s belly. “He’s grown so much since I last saw him. Aww. Look at those chubby cheeks. I love him.”

The baby really had grown a lot recently, faster than an average human. Warrin was a full-blooded ice dragon, and Daman was a Nephilim. Maybe the magical bloodline encouraged Sorin’s growth. They had used a surrogate, but the baby biologically belonged to both of them with the aid of magic-based science—most of which I didn’t understand, but whatever.

“I get to hold him next,” Castor said.

“Sorin cries every time he sees you,” Daman told him. “Stop traumatizing my son with your ugly face.”

“He adores me,” Castor said before poking the baby’s nose.

Sorin stared at Castor for all of two seconds before his little face crumpled and he started to cry.

“See?” Daman lightly bounced his son and murmured soothing words to calm him.

Alastair placed a hand on my shoulder and offered me a thin smile as our eyes met. “Happy birthday, Galen.”

“You called me Galen and not Wrath? Wow. Why can’t it be my birthday every day?”

He rolled his eyes. “Come tomorrow, I’ll return to my snooty self. Enjoy it while you can.”

Clara threw her arms around my torso and squeezed tight before stepping back. “Were you really surprised? I learned a spell that helped hide our energy from you. It’s one good thing that came from meeting Vepar. Remember how he used the air to hide his presence? I used that as inspiration.”

“Well, you were successful,” I told her.

She beamed. “My gift to you is my presence here. You’re welcome.”