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V ictor pulled his ham out of the oven and smiled as the honey-baked scent hit his nose. A second later, his senses were delightfully overwhelmed by sunflowers and cinnamon. Setting the tray with the ham on a trivet, Victor turned and brushed his lips with Keegan’s as he handed the fallen knight a bowl of mashed potatoes. Keegan walked off with a grin, and Victor cupped Phillip’s face to kiss him.

They shared a smile, then Victor gave the sentinel the salad for the table. With joy in his heart for the two beautiful men he loved and the family he’d gained so many years ago, Victor sighed happily. Although he wanted to luxuriate in all the gifts Fate had granted him, he had a condo full of hungry men to feed.

So, Victor eased his ham to a serving platter and didn’t bother arguing as Arvandus plucked it from the counter to carry it away. Victor moved to grab the goblet of wine he’d filled for himself, but Brynnius beat him to it and placed it on the table for him. Although Victor was paid to be the housekeeper, every Daray put in their fair share of work to keep things running smoothly.

With nothing left to do, Victor headed for the table and took the empty chair to the left of Phillip. Keegan was already seated on the sentinel’s right, and Victor winked at both Cinder Lords. Victor jumped a second later as Baxter’s palm banged the tabletop.

“What the fuck is happening right now?” Baxter demanded.

Chander scowled. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Did you put salad in your bowl without Alaric threatening you?”

“I do not threaten Chand,” Alaric stated firmly.

“No, because if he did, Chand would flatten him,” Arvandus snickered.

“No one can flatten a sentinel,” Alaric drawled confidently.

“I don’t know, I think a couple sentinels in here get flattened on a regular basis,” Baxter scoffed.

Keegan frowned. “What does that mean?”

“I could be mistaken, but it is Baxter, so I doubt I am wrong. I assume he is speaking of something s-e-x-u-a-l,” Vellerynd remarked with a roll of his cobalt eyes.

“Okay, who taught Vel to spell that?” Baxter asked. He waggled his blond brows. “And you’re right. I know I get flattened by Ben regularly.”

“Why is every meal like this?” Ducarius muttered.

“Because once sentinels learn something, they repeat it constantly,” Victor responded to the aggrieved Skeleton Lord.

“Victor, you haven’t been mated that long. How are you already full of complaints?” Arvandus asked.

Victor’s lips curved. “Oh, trust me, that wasn’t a complaint. I happen to like everything Phillip insists on repeating.”

“Great, now even Victor is discussing s-e-x at the table,” Ducarius remarked.

“At least he’s not going into graphic detail or spelling,” Chander retorted. “Someone pass me the dressing so I can drown out the taste of all these vegetables.”

Three sentinels scrambled to thrust the same bottle of dressing at the Arch Lich and nearly upended the thing. Frowning at their overzealousness, Chander thanked them and took the bottle. He poured a grotesque amount of the stuff over the poor vegetables. The excess grossed Victor out, and he was glad he didn’t have to eat it that way.

“Quick question,” Keegan said.

“If it is about s-e-x, can you please wait to ask it until after I have left the table?” Ducarius asked. “I would like to eat my meal in peace.”

“It’s not about s-e-x,” Keegan replied. “Someone brought up the annual retreat this afternoon. I know the sentinels and fallen knights share the retreat, but it occurred to me I’m not sure which race I’d register under.”

“I would like to put it on record again that I hate the spelling thing,” Vellerynd stated.

“But you spelled too,” Baxter pointed out.

“Because I hoped it would annoy you the way it does me,” Vellerynd replied.

“I think he’s immune to being annoyed,” Benton said. “Fate had no other choice, otherwise he’d constantly be annoying himself.”

“Good point, I will remember that for the future,” Vellerynd remarked. “Sorry, I did not mean to divert everyone from your question, Keegan. Does he register for the retreat through the fallen knights or the sentinels?”

“You are a Cinder Lord, so I believe you would register through the Sentinel Brotherhood,” Alaric commented. “But I will talk to Drystan and Conley to make sure they don’t have other plans. I know they’d prefer you to be involved with your own race in addition to the sentinels. Thankfully, you can attend whatever you wish at the retreat and be surrounded by both fallen knights and sentinels.”

“Great, thanks, Alaric,” Keegan said. “I’m looking forward to it; it sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Oh, it is,” Arvandus assured him.

“You should hope you can register with us,” Albrecht stated. “It is far faster to get through the line as a sentinel than as a fallen knight.”

“That is true,” Ducarius commented. “Their line is more party than efficiency.”

“It’s a retreat celebrating our people,” Samson said. “It’s supposed to be fun.”

“Sentinels do not find a disorganized line fun,” Albrecht retorted. “We enjoy ourselves after we have our room keys and schedule.”

“Will we all have rooms next to each other?” Keegan asked.

“No, the Darays have an entire floor to ourselves,” Victor explained. “The hotel is designed for massive Council families, so we share a suite.”

“That is wonderful news,” Phillip said. “I assume it is a vacation for you too, Sparkles?”

Victor smiled. “Yep, I spend most of it with Evergreen. He must work sometimes, but mostly we pamper ourselves while sentinels and fallen knights go to the workshops and classes. At night, we’ve attended the fun stuff. This year will be the best one yet because I get to spend it with you and Keegan.”

Baxter snapped his fingers and earned a glare from Chander. “I just thought of something.”

“Did it hurt?” Arvandus asked.

“Not as bad as being a fallen knight living with the knowledge that you used to be a far superior sentinel,” Baxter retorted.

“Gentlemen, fallen knights and sentinels are equal,” Victor stated firmly.

“I love you, Victor, but you are incorrect,” Alaric replied.

Chander turned and pinned his mate with his irritated pewter gaze. “I love you, but if you accuse Victor of being incorrect about the equality of fallen knights and sentinels again, you’re going to find out how lumpy the couch is.”

“I have sat on it; I already know it isn’t lumpy,” Alaric responded.

“You guys accuse me of saying dumb shit, but I’ve never uttered anything close to being that stupid,” Baxter remarked. Benton elbowed his mate, and Baxter threw his hands up. “What? You know I’m right.”

“Bax, perhaps you would like to share with us what idle thought popped into your brain?” Alaric asked dryly.

“Oh yeah, I was thinking about All Hallows’ Eve and our annual party,” Baxter said. “Keegan, Phillip, and Victor should do coordinated outfits so the Darays can show off that we have a successful triple matebond in our family.”

“Or maybe they’d want to do a triple costume because they’re proud to be in love,” Chander drawled.

“Or that,” Baxter agreed pleasantly.

“I wouldn’t mind doing complimenting outfits if we can think of something cool,” Victor said.

“Obviously, you will need to sparkle in whatever costume we choose,” Phillip responded.

“Victor always picks pretty sparkly costumes, so that won’t be a problem,” Benton assured Phillip before Victor could respond to his mate.

“My favorite is still the one he did for our first party,” Brynnius said. “He was Cinderella. I liked the dress you made for that, Victor.”

Keegan leaned forward to see around Phillip and grinned at Victor. “Do you make your own costume every year?”

“Yes. If we can think of something early enough to give me time, I can make yours and Phillip’s too. That’ll make it easier on Larissa, who gets swarmed with requests every year,” Victor explained.

“Which is a reminder to get your damn ideas together and talk to Larissa,” Chander said. “There’s no need to wait until the last minute and stress her out.”

“What are you going as, Chand?” Baxter asked.

“How the hell should I know?” Chander replied.

“He usually does something related to books,” Benton confided to the newest Darays. “He has no imagination.”

“You’ve literally designed what you’ve worn in the past after his costume,” Arvandus retorted. “You don’t have any imagination either.”

“Yeah, maybe you should figure out your own shit before you go accusing someone else of lacking ideas,” Samson added.

“I want to do something scary this year,” Devlin remarked.

Teverild grinned. “Me too.”

“That’s good news,” Cassius said. “He went for disgusting last year and was an oozing sore. It made me want to throw up.”

“Asking the wizards for potions so he could secrete fluids on a whim was a disgusting touch,” Vellerynd complained. “It was the only night I have ever chosen to avoid my brother completely.”

“I have no desire to do anything gross,” Phillip stated.

“No worries, Spicy, we’ll leave gross up to someone else,” Victor said. He didn’t want to complain since Teverild had chosen something unique, but the costume had truly been grotesque, and Victor had stayed away from the honorary sentinel the entire evening too.

“Can Victor help me with the menu again?” Brynnius asked. For years, Brynnius had been put in charge of the food. The sentinel didn’t want to do it alone, but Alaric insisted Victor fed them all year and deserved the night off to enjoy the party. Brynnius was allowed to ask Victor for his advice and some aid during the day but nothing else. It was annoying since Victor wanted to be a part of the planning and the preparation. Unfortunately, arguing with Alaric was often a fruitless task, and Victor picked his battles sparingly.

Chander tossed his napkin onto the table. “Enough of this bullshit. It’s Alaric’s party, but I’m changing the rules. From now on, Victor and Brynn are going to handle the food. It stresses Brynn out, and Victor doesn’t like being excluded. Deal with it, Alaric.”

Thankfully, there was one person willing to correct Alaric routinely, though the Arch Lich had shown infinite patience in allowing the party planning nonsense to go on for so long.

“Chand, Victor has enough duties.”

“And now he has two mates to keep him from getting stressed,” Chander argued. “Victor, Alaric and I have argued privately about this countless times. I’m over it.”

“Victor is the one who helps me choose everything, but I get the credit,” Brynnius added. “That is not fair.”

Alaric frowned. “You were supposed to ask for his help, not have him do it.”

“Brynn doesn’t plan menus,” Chander retorted. “He bakes delicious shit. Victor cooks meals. I’ve told you this a million times.”

“Victor will now plan the food and Brynn the dessert items,” Alaric declared.

Arvandus clapped loudly. “Oh, Lich Sentinel, what an excellent idea!”

“Perhaps Arvandus is the lone reason I dislike fallen knights,” Alaric muttered.

Pleased by the change in the party Victor looked forward to every year, he snagged his now-empty plate from the table and rose to take it to the dishwasher. He moved too slow. A sentinel slipped it out of his grasp, and Victor had to bite his lip to keep from laughing as Baxter tried to wrestle both plates from Phillip.

“Behave yourselves and clear the damn table,” Chander ordered as the two sentinels tugged the poor dish back and forth. Baxter released it instantly, and Phillip marched triumphantly to the kitchen.

The rest of the Darays moved swiftly to do as they were told, and Victor was gently pushed out of the way as the kitchen was cleaned. As far as the Darays were concerned, his workday ended the minute he sat down for dinner, despite his many arguments to the contrary.

Victor had fought for control in the past, but he was too vastly outnumbered now to get away with it. Which was why he supposed that losing the Antonovs had been no more than a blip on his radar. Victor was enveloped in family, and his heart was full thanks to the Darays. Not to mention his entire extended family of D’Vaires.

Instead of judgement or criticism, he had acceptance and the knowledge that he was liked for everything that made him unique. With a smile thanks to the joy surrounding him, Victor waited for a redheaded fallen knight and a raven-tressed sentinel to step close to him.

“I love you,” Victor told them both.

He laughed a second later as both men pressed kisses to his cheeks. His cat purred with joy as man and beast rejoiced at being near the two men who completed his soul. Not for one minute had Victor imagined himself with two mates until the day Phillip and Keegan had walked into the Daray condo. Now, he couldn’t envision his life without their sunshine and spice. Not to mention the wonderful family who’d accepted him the moment he walked into the ugly apartment Chander had once owned.

No doubt about it, Victor was meant to be a Daray.

And thanks to Fate who’d given him the Cinder Lords, he was also one lucky kitty.