by Willow Hayes
When they do nothing for long enough to make me feel unsettled I laugh nervously, worried I might have broken them, and I default to humor, “Oh hey guys, fancy meeting you here.” I chuckle in a lame attempt to break them out of their trance.
That seems to snap them out of it, and I’m then surrounded by a chorus of, “Are you ok?” and, “Are you hurt?” and a, “Holy fuck!” Which makes me laugh.
“So Callum and I figured out how to jailbreak my magic. Then she went a bit crazy, and my magic and I had a little chat, and she promised to never do that again.” I chuckle, my laugh more honest this time. “As to your questions, I’m okay, I’m not hurt, and for real: what the fuck,” I tick them off addressing each one.
My white thread forgotten in my excitement a grin grows across my face, and I launch myself at Callum who manages to catch me. I squeeze him tight and whisper a thank you just for him. Without thinking I plant a kiss on his lips and jump down. I turn around and do a little victory dance. I feel so free, so weird, in an amazing way, but weird. When the guys still stand there and say nothing I throw up my hands. “Will you stop staring? You’re making me think I have red and green skin or something.”
“So Spitfire, you are probably the most badass person I have met, and I’m going to need you to come inside for a minute.”
Teo throws that out there all casual, hidden in a compliment, and I glare at him suspiciously. “What aren’t you telling me, Pretty Boy?”
He swallows and says “It’s nothing bad I promise, but can you please come inside?” I agree, and he takes me by the hand and pulls me toward the door.
I continue to give him the side eye as we make our way inside. Surprisingly, he leads us to the gym, but when he turns me to face the mirror I gasp. Standing there in the mirror is me, but not me. It’s me except I do not look like that. My skin has never looked this good, even with makeup, and it’s giving off a faint glow. My hair, that has always been unruly, is falling in perfect curls. My eyes are glowing like sapphire stones lit from within. My eyes make their way up to the guys. “What the Hades?!”
Callum’s face is full of a wonder I’ve never seen on him before when he says, “She is straight out of the tales of when gods and goddesses still walked this realm.”
My eyes shoot to his because I can’t possibly have heard him correctly. “Um…you wanna run that be me again?”
“The goddesses that walked the earth are described as having a similar appearance. Skin that glows and eyes illuminated from within.” He shrugs in a very non-Callum way, as if he hasn’t just delivered this huge news.
“So what you’re telling me is that while we knew I was a descendant of two goddesses, that I am what? An almost goddess? A kinda goddess? A goddess-ish? What does this mean?” I beg him with my eyes to give me answers.
“I do not know exactly what this means, but as far as your blood status, if I were to guess based on what Akira said, the power that exploded from you, and your new appearance? Your grandmother was likely Hemera or Gaia herself.”
“Holy shit! That just can’t be possible. How would my mother or father escape notice all those years being all glowy and shit?” I gesture helplessly at my reflection in the mirror, but my eyes have yet to leave Callum because I need him to fix this. Whatever this is.
“I would imagine a cloaking spell was likely used. Look in that mirror and tell me you do not believe me,” Callum demands with hands on my shoulders as he directs my eyes back to my reflection in the mirror.
I slowly turn my eyes back and take a step closer. While I look at the mirror I throw my next words over my shoulder, “Can someone get me a picture of my mother please?” I can’t believe I didn’t look one up earlier. I examine each of my shiny new features, still stuck on the fact that it’s me, but not the me I have seen in the mirror for the past twenty-six years.
“I’ve got it pulled up on the tablet.” Luka hands it to me.
I scrutinize the photograph with the same intensity as my new appearance and, while I have looked at pictures of Queen Rayna dozens of times, this is the first time I am looking not only at the former ruler of the country but at my mother. I suck in a sharp breath when I realize it’s not just a picture of my mother, but of me and her Chosen as well. The world ceases to exist as I hungrily drink in every detail. I have my mother’s sapphire eyes and coppery curls. I place a finger on her smiling face, as if touching the picture will somehow bridge the gap of time and bring me closer to her.
I drag my attention from her to each face of her Chosen, and my heart stops when I find that I look very much like one of them. We have the same heart shaped face and nose that turns up slightly at the end. Without a doubt, this man must be my father. Holy shit. With this realization something else becomes startlingly clear. My mother loved her Chosen and they loved her, but loved each other as lovers do. I look closely at the five men gathered around her, and the intimate way they each touch her or look at her. Her Chosen were not just her guards, they were her…what? I look up to my Chosen and with confusion and wonder in my voice say, “Um…so, I don’t think my mother’s Chosen were just her guards. I’m not entirely sure what they were, but they were definitely more than guards.”
“What makes you say that?” Luka asks.
“My father was one of her Chosen. See? Look here in the picture.” I point to one of the men smiling fondly at my mother. “I look just like him.” The guys gather around the tablet, and I watch their eyes as they take in the details, glancing back and forth between me and the photo. “Look at how they touch her. How they look at her.”
“Well I’ll be damned.” Nakoa shakes his head in wonder.
“I had heard rumors but never believed them.” Callum looks stunned by what he’s seen.
“Rumors of what?” Teo asks.
“Rumors that the Chosen are not simply guards but are the queen’s mates as well,” Callum’s voice is filled with awe.
“What does that mean?” I ask, confused.
Luka, the never ending supply of knowledge speaks up with a huge grin and says, “It’s similar to what humans refer to as a soulmate, but a mate for magical beings is a stronger bond because it is made of magic.”
“Wait, so my mother had five mates?” Incredulity colors my tone.
“It’s not unusual for magical beings to have more than one mate,” Nakoa says, his voice still full of wonder.
“Yes, but throughout their lifetime right? As in spread out over it.” I know supernatural beings tend to live for centuries, so I’m sure it would not be uncommon for them to have multiple partners during their lives.
“No, supernatural beings may have multiple partners they love throughout their lifetime, but we mate for life,” Nakoa explains.
“Wait so, you guys are my Chosen does that mean we’re mates? As in all of us? As in sexually, with each of you? How does that even work?” I throw out because what the fuck am I supposed to do with that? First they are just my guards, and we are all fighting this damn attraction, but now suddenly we’re mates? All of us?
“Out of all the places to go with that information you go with fucking first?” the question vibrates against my back as Teo laughs and wraps his arms around me from behind, holding me close. “I knew there was a reason I liked you, Spitfire.”
Nakoa shakes his head at Teo with a grin tugging at his own lips and says, “Yes, that’s what it means to be mates, and yes, all four of us are your mates. As to details I think that might be a conversation for a different day.” His smile is full of dirty promises that make me clench with need. “This picture makes something crystal clear for me. As mates each individual will feel an intense pull towards the other person. Firefly, I have felt the pull toward you since the moment I spotted you in the club.” My heart soars at his confession.
He turns to the guys and asks, “And you?” Callum and Luka nod their heads, and Teo bites my neck in answer, making me gasp. I’m dumbfounded at the confession from each of them. They all want me?
Me? Nakoa turns back to me again with heat in his eyes. “What about you, Firefly? Have you felt the pull?”
I can’t say anything for a beat or two because I’m wrapped up in the thought that all of these gorgeous men want me. I clear my throat and answer, “I thought my libido was a greedy hussy because I desperately want all of you, so yeah, I guess you could say I feel the pull.” The guys laugh, and I just shrug. It’s true.
Forty
Kenna
I’m sitting on the floor of Luka’s office as we look through his books to find answers about my goddess heritage. I still can’t believe that my grandmother was Hemera or Gaia, or rather likely currently is, but who knows where. The glow to my skin has calmed a bit, but it’s still there and can’t be ignored, and I definitely will not go unnoticed in public which could potentially cause a few problems with the whole royal lineage flying under the radar thing. I certainly won’t complain about the added benefit of my hair behaving though, and I love the way the sapphire in my eyes now looks like the blue that the black night reluctantly gives way to.
The book I have in my lap is about the different gods and goddesses, and I find myself regretting not paying attention in theology because it’s fascinating:
“The gods used the Aether, the power of life, to create the earth and enjoyed life among their creation. There is speculation as to the purpose of this new creation, but respected historians believe that the earth, along with its inhabitants, was created to worship the gods. Zeus and many other gods loved their creations, but Ares despised their weaknesses. The conflict between Zeus and his son Ares escalated until it culminated in a great war where many mortal lives were lost. After the war Zeus and the remaining gods retreated back to their realm once more. Before the gods retreated however, many had fallen in love with mortals and bore children from those unions. These children were referred to as demi-gods, known for the great power they possessed. Many casters and possessors alike can trace their lineage back to one of the great gods, though their power has greatly diminished throughout the generations.”
I look up from my reading and ask Luka, “Hey, what’s a possessor?” The term unfamiliar to me. I knew what a caster was, someone who could use magic to create spells, but I had never heard of a possessor.
Looking up from his own reading Luka grimaces and says, “Today the term has a derogatory nature. Originally it described those who have magic in their blood and are therefore magical beings but cannot cast magic, like some shifters or underworlders.
“Shifters possess magic and can therefore shift, but most are unable to do more than that. Underworlders, such as a vampire or a banshee, also possess magic but cannot cast.” Eyes full of anger he continues, “Today the term is meant to insult and denigrate shifters and underworlders. I’m sure you have seen the separation that exists between magical and non-magical people.” Reg’s gym is almost exclusively human because many magical beings have the attitude that humans are lesser because they possess no magic, so I nod my understanding. “There is a heavy bias within magical circles towards other magical beings as well. At the top are casters and at the bottom are underworlders, even if they are an underworlder who can cast.” His lip curls as though he’s smelled something particularly terrible. He shakes his head, and the fire fades from his eyes. “Sorry, it’s just personal.”
I get up from my spot on the floor and walk over to stand in front of Luka’s chair. I take his hand and squeeze it saying, “I’m sorry Luka. As a human I was generally ignored at worst, but I can’t imagine what it must be like to have who you are thrown in your face.” He looks up at me saying nothing for a few moments, so I say, “Luka?”
Instead of responding he tugs me down onto his chair, one knee on either side of him. His gray eyes swirl with intensity as he studies me. None of us have really brought up what we learned about being mates, but it’s there, simmering. I reach out and run a hand through his soft, dark hair like I have wanted to do since he walked up to our table at the club, and his grip on my waist tightens, pulling me closer.
As we continue our silent examination of one another he lifts a hand to my face and runs his thumb along my jaw. I turn and kiss the palm of his hand and watch as his eyes darken, and my center clenches. His hand moves to the back of my neck, and he pulls me down until we are a mere breath apart, breathing each other in. Luka breaks the silence and asks in a whisper, “Are you really mine?” His words almost more for himself than me.
In answer I lean forward and press my lips to his. Luka pulls me closer until I’m pressed against him as our lips slowly explore each other. He flicks the seam of my lips, and I gladly open for him. He tilts my head to deepen the kiss, and my hands fist his hair in response. His groan is lost in our kiss, and he rocks his hips up to meet mine, and the friction makes me moan in return. We take our time enjoying each other and don’t break apart until breathing necessitates it. I lean my forehead against his and whisper, my breathing ragged, “Holy shit.”
He chuckles at my response, his own breathing uneven, and tucks my hair behind my ear before he gently wraps his fingers around my neck once more. “I have wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I’ve fought the pull because I’m a lowly underworlder, and you are royalty.” I open my mouth to protest, but he only kisses me once more, briefly and passionately. He pulls back till we can see each other’s eyes. “But your magic chose me, an underworlder. Not just as a guard, which was hard enough to grasp, but as your mate.” His smile banishes the storm clouds in his eyes and he says, “I was yours the moment I saw you, but now I know that you are mine too.”
I’m curled up on my little couch wrapped in a warm green throw blanket with Akito’s head resting on my thigh, and I take comfort in his steady presence. Needing to do something normal I pull out my laptop and plug in the memory card from my camera. After importing the photos into the editing program I scroll through them. I laugh when I come across a picture of Rya scolding Akito for one of his many mischievous mishaps. She’s wearing her stern face, and Akito is most definitely looking pleased as punch. He had pulled the blankets and pillows off her bed and into the living room where he made himself a comfy little nest.
I look at Akito, but I don’t even attempt a stern look because I can’t stop laughing. “You really enjoy getting a reaction from Rya, don’t you?” He tries to give me his innocent look, but I’m not fooled. “Uh huh, you can’t give me that look. I know you better.” He pushes up to lick my cheek as if to say you know you love me. I smile wider. “Yes I do.” I scratch behind his ear and turn my attention back to my editing. I pull a few pictures from my sunrise mornings and add them to my ever growing folder.
I slow when I come to the pictures I’ve taken of the guys since moving in. Nakoa working on his swordsmanship, his face focused and body fluid. Another of him bent over some papers at his desk, his brows wrinkled in contemplation. My serious and responsible Nakoa. My eyes trace the features of his face, and I realize just how little he smiles. I wonder if he was this way before I marked him as mine, or if the stress of protecting and training me brought a change.
I keep working through my photos and come across the pictures I took of Teo and Luka when they conspired, again, to prank Nakoa, and I happened to catch them in the act. Their wicked smiles as they rearranged my poor control freak’s office are sexy as all get out, and I find myself laughing despite feeling bad for Nakoa. When I first met Teo and Luka I thought they were just playboys who liked to have fun, but in the past few weeks I have come to see that there’s so much more to both of them. They are thoughtful, passionate, and playful. They make me smile when I’m buried under the stress and emotions of my new circumstances.
I smile and scroll on, but stop when I see Callum’s beautiful face partially hidden behind his bow as he lines up his shot. He is achingly beautiful and even more so when he’s shooting. I didn’t know what to make of Callum when I first met him. He was so formal and distant, but as we have spent time together in our lessons
I see a different man under the cool mask he wears, and I wonder which man is the real Callum? These men, my mates, have come to mean so much to me, and that is simultaneously thrilling and terrifying.
My eyes drift to the photo of my mother, me, and her Chosen that Luka sent me. I have looked at this picture at least a dozen times, but it doesn’t matter how often, every time makes me feel so much. This picture is evidence that I once mattered to someone. Two someones. Maybe more. I study the image once more, and my eyes drop to the caption below the photo for the first time, and I read their names, ‘Queen Rayna Beaumont and her Chosen,’ listed from left to right. I find my father’s name, Kenric, and it hits me that I must be named after my father!
“I mattered to them,” my voice catches as I talk to Akito, “they loved me.” That was all I ever wanted. To be loved and wanted, and I was, even if I can’t remember. The evidence that I was loved is right here before me. Another thought takes my breath away. My mother was a Beaumont, but the name I was given when I ended up in foster care is Ainsley. Can I take her last name? My last name?
“Kenna Beaumont,” I say to test how the name feels. The syllables roll across my tongue. Not quite fluid, but I like it nonetheless. I say it again, my voice more firm, “I am Kenna Beaumont.”
Forty-One
Luka
I slam my laptop shut. It’s like the guy doesn’t exist. I can’t even find Kenna in the system now. I found her before, after we first met her, and I was able to get a quick overview of her history in foster care, but now her whole file has been wiped, as if she was never in the system to begin with. Someone is trying to erase her history, her existence, but why? I’ve been working at this for days trying to track down any trace, but there is nothing. Without having Kenna’s records I have no hope of tracking the asshole down.
