Page 41

We carried the meal outside to the stone patio where Cinaed and Cael had set a table. The evening was cold, but the magical heating charms generated a comfortable bubble around the area. It was an example of how Bart and Cael worked together to create something amazing.

Cinaed looked up as we approached, his amber eyes met mine appreciatively. We’d dreamed of our life together, but we never realized the little things like cooking were so hard.

“You made this?” he asked, his gaze shifting from the food to me. “It smells amazing.”

He’d probably have said the same if it was awful, but it was hard to lie to your mate. “Under close supervision from my inhuman brother,” I clarified, setting my bowl onto the table.

“Don’t let him lie,” Bart said, putting down the salad. “Rod did all the cooking. I just gave him pointers along the way. With a little more practice, he’ll be experimenting with his own recipes.”

The compliment came from a good place, but it was utter rubbish. “Nice try, but you don’t need to worry,” I said. “If I poison Cinaed, he’ll just regenerate.”

“The goal isn’t to make me hate food,” Cinaed smirked. “Stick to the basics for the first decade or so.”

Dinner went better than I’d expected. Cinaed didn’t need to lie about the food, which made me ridiculously happy. It even made it worth the indignity of having my baby brother give me lessons like I was a kid.

“How do you get supplies?” Cael asked, refilling wine glasses. “Do they fly them over?”

“By boat,” Cinaed said, before taking a bite of whatever incredible dessert Bart had made. “We take turns moving it.”

“Moving it?” Cael asked. “Doesn’t it have a motor?”

I laughed, because I wasn’t alone. “The loch has strict restrictions on motors,” I said. “Some days Cinaed pulls it, others I use magic. There’s a dock near the castle, and Malachy bought us a car that sits there for when we need it.”

“Which is almost every day,” Cinaed added. “You’d be amazed what it takes to furnish an entire house.”

Cael raised an eyebrow, and glanced at Bart. There was a story here. “Spill,” I said.

Bart’s expression was the closest thing to a scowl I’d seen him give his mate. “Evidently, I’m too organized.”

“I never said that.” Cael pointed to Bart. “When I moved in, I’d realize I’d forgotten things. When I suggested I needed to go get something, your brother always had it somewhere in the house. It might have given me an inferiority complex.”

Cinaed and I exchanged glances before we both laughed. “If the chip on your shoulder was any bigger, you wouldn’t be able to walk,” I said. “What really happened was you complained because he made you look like a slacker.”

“What?” Cael tried to look wounded, but he couldn’t sell the lie. “Fine, but it’s not normal to be so organized.”

“Speaking of organizing,” Cinaed said. “I could use some of that this spring. Rod and I are going to lay out a rose garden. Neither of us have green thumbs.”

“That would be Cael’s area of expertise,” Bart said. “But I’m all in for a visit to help.”

And just that quick, my fears of isolation evaporated. Cinaed had said it would never be as quiet as we thought, and he’d been right.

The conversation drifted to our other projects—expanding the house, creating more open space, and redecorating. Like Bart, I preferred old furnishings over new, but the

twelve-hundred-year-old décor was too old. Plus, it gave off a grandmotherly vibe. We wanted something more modern and in line with our tastes. These small domestic details might be painfully mundane to some, but they represented everything we’d been denied for so long.

After dinner, Cael and Cinaed offered to clean up since Bart and I cooked. When my brother led me into his study, I realized that ‘offer’ had been planned.

“Mom gave me something for you.” He unlocked his magically sealed desk and pulled out a small package wrapped in brown paper. “I don’t know what it is, she said it was for you and Cinaed.

Curious, I worked the string off the box. Mom’s gifts were never what we expected. We didn’t need anything, so she always went for something personal.

Inside the package was a small silver key and a note. I recognized Mom’s elegant handwriting as I unfolded the paper.

For the nursery when you’re ready. The chest is in the attic at Hollen Hall—enchanted toys from all your childhoods, preserved for the next generation. Love, Mom

I stared at the key, and didn’t know if I should laugh at the absurdity or cry at her thoughtfulness. “Avie always said, never tell Mom you’re thinking of something until you’re ready to do it.” I passed the note to Bart.

He read it and looked up. He had something that might have been terror in his eyes. “Children?”

Mom was looking way ahead. “Cinaed joked I was taking cooking lessons because we couldn’t have kids until I knew how to feed them. It’s a joke between us, and I forgot to tell Cinaed about the warning.”

“I think you and Cinaed would make great parents,” Bart’s eyes twinkled. “Don’t blame Mom if she’s jumping the gun.”

I didn’t really—not much at least. “I reserve the right to limit the upheavals in my life to one a decade.”

Bart laughed and shook his head. “Good luck with that. Let me know how it works out for you.”

When we returned, Cinaed and Cael had finished, so we moved to the sitting room. A magic flame burned in the fireplace. It produced just enough heat to make the room warm, but not hot.

“We should head back tomorrow,” Cinaed said, leaning against my side. “I like it here, but we’ve got a list of things we still need to do.”

I put my arm around him and kissed the top of his head. “I know. I’d like to stay longer too, but we should get back home.”

“That’s right,” Bart said, mischief all over his face. “You’ve got to set up a nursery to make Mom happy.”

“Wait, what?” Cael asked, looking at each of us in succession. “You’re having kids?”

Bart and I laughed. Cinaed joined us because I’d warned him he’d unleashed a mama bear into our lives. “Mom seems to think so,” I said. “You know how she gets when kids are involved.”

“I said I’d consider it when your cooking improved,” Cinaed said, stifling a yawn. “That’s a long way from being ready for children.”

“That’s your fault for breaking the rule,” Cael said. “Even I know to be tight-lipped around Miriam.”

The evening continued in easy conversation.

My separation from Cinaed began before Bart had been born.

I’d never had the chance to interact as brothers when my spirit had been whole.

I hoped to forge similar bonds with my other siblings, especially those whose destinies had been linked by an obligation to the Earth.

Cinaed spent most of the night in an animated discussion with Cael about some rare plant that was native to Scotland.

The firelight caught his copper hair, and his hands moved expressively as he spoke.

Forty years of waiting and fighting for this moment—for the simple right to sit beside each other on an ordinary evening and plan for an ordinary future together.

Seeing him this happy again made it worth every second it took to get us here.

We’d always talked about this future, even when we didn’t believe it would happen. Now that it had arrived, we weren’t going to take even one day for granted.