Page 107

Caleb in swim trunks swigging a beer bottle was always a trip, so the sight of that alone was worth the price of admission. The fact that he was chatting almost amiably with Corbin and Henri, who seemed to be a package deal these days, took the amusement a step further. Our resident sociopath chameleon alien was adapting more and more to being human-ish.

Lynn and Drake were there, and Drake went out of his way to be kind and gentle with Yinlong, even sitting down to have a tea party with her beside the pool. She had Conan’s egg cuddled close beside her in a nest of soft blankets, as she often did. She poured Drake a perfect, tiny cup of tea and I saw him send a warm look in Lynn’s direction.

I shot Lynn a look and she glared. The glare was because my look was pointed, and in sister language she knew what I was pointing at was that her man was baby-crazed. I knew well all the signs firsthand.

Drake had found a house for them less than ten minutes away from us with an aura that Lynn could ‘tolerate.’ It was a black, gothic monstrosity, unlike anything I’d ever seen built in sin city, as though Drake had conjured it out of thin air and specified to Lynn’s preferences.

I was pretty sure he couldn’t do that, though. Ish.

Sven was there, he was living close for the time being, at least as long as our father was still at large.

He joined Drake and Yinlong and Conan’s egg for the tea party. It was pretty damned adorable.

Lynn was near them watching, and I knew it was only a matter of time before she caved and joined them, as well.

I was fine sitting out to give someone else a turn. I’d spent the latter part of my convalescence attending similar tea parties.

Sloan and Cam were on the lazy river in a double floaty and Christian, who was hitting on the pretty bartender he’d hired for the occasion, kept shooting meaningful looks from me to them as though I couldn’t see it myself. They looked like they were getting along, perhaps even permanently reconciled, though neither were speaking a word of it.

Dom had me cornered in the pool, arms braced around me like I might fall down without them. I let him, even leaned into it. Perhaps we both needed it.

It was some time later, all of the adults having joined us in the pool, when Lynn asked me, “So you’ve like adopted her?”

“Yes,” I said, still getting used to the idea but very happy about it.

She was referring to Yinlong, alone now at the tea party table with Conan, but she seemed content as could be pretending to help his egg sip tea.

“So they’re like siblings?” asked Christian.

“Not at all. They’ll be raised together, but will marry when they come of age,” Sven said.

We all just stared at him.

He shrugged, looking unbothered. “It wasn’t my idea, it was theirs, and they won’t be deterred. I dare someone to try to come between them.” He laughed like he found the idea of that very amusing.

It was a lot to take in. I caught the look on Dom’s face. “You knew?”

He gave me an enigmatic glance. “I’ve told you about the stars,” was his response.

The wedding was as ridiculous as the compound Dom had found for us.

It was an extremely formal druid affair, upholding all of the customs and traditions his people held dear.

Dom wanted to make a statement with it and he did.

It was romantic and beautiful, extravagant and huge.

We’d had to wait until the stars were in an exact alignment to his liking. I took his word for it. I wasn’t the stargazer in the relationship, though I did occasionally let them run my life.

The vows were held in the druid casino’s impressive atrium.

It was the pretty Hollywood version of the real Grove, so similar that I found it a bit disturbing, as though a flip might be switched and the soil beneath turned to squishy flesh, the water to congealing red blood.

It behaved itself though. Mostly.

We were barefoot, our skin touching the earth was part of the ceremony. We both wore crowns of flowers and antlers, much smaller than the ceremonial one Dom wore as Arch. I wore a flowing ivory lace and silk gown. He wore white druid robes.

We stood inside a sacred circle marked with flowers that only the couple and officiator—in this case, Sloan—could step inside of.