Bonus Story - 'A Wedding Remix'

Ryker

Look, even big bad dragons cry sometimes.

Yeah, even me.

Not that anyone who knows me would find this shocking. I’m a sucker for babies, happy endings, and red velvet cupcakes, and today I was getting a perfect three out of three.

Not that there were any actual babies in the crowd—unless one of my siblings had been keeping secrets—but I still consider Kira my baby sister. And right here, right now, that baby sister was finally getting the wedding of her dreams. 

I think a part of her had been nervous up until the very last second—afraid that this day would have to be postponed yet again—but all the important guests had arrived safely, and now the wait was finally over.

I’m man enough to admit that I went right ahead and teared up the minute Kira first walked in on Faris’s arm, wearing a white dress and a blinding smile of pure joy. 

And I wasn’t the only one wearing my heart on my immaculately styled sleeve. Faris was so choked up I was afraid he might not make it down the aisle, even as short as it was. There was only so much space in this bar-turned-makeshift wedding venue, and even packed with chairs, it was barely enough to hold all the people Kira had invited to share this day with her.

Everyone she loved, everyone she’d fought for, everyone she’d adopted as her own—we were all here because, in one way or another, Kira had brought us together. And we adored her, even if we didn’t really understand why this ceremony was so important. 

After all, she and Draven had already formed a mate bond in the way of shapeshifters, which meant an unbreakable partnership of souls that only a few dragons were fortunate enough to experience. True mates could sense each other’s emotions, find each other anywhere in the world, and sometimes even speak mind to mind. 

But Kira was raised as a human, so she’d also wanted to get married in the human way—with the minister, the white dress, the flowers, all of it. And considering what she’d been through, every single one of us would have tried to rearrange the universe to give her the wedding day she’d always dreamed of.

Fortunately, we’d only had to rearrange the furniture at The Portal. Plus string about a million fairy lights, strew a bunch of flowers around, bake for days, and figure out what humans wore for these kinds of occasions.

Which was how I ended up sitting in the back row of chairs, pretending I was completely chill while my little sister stood on the stage where The Portal’s band usually played and took the hand of her new husband.

Draven Elduvar. Son of the fae king and also—somehow—a really decent guy. I might not be thrilled that my new brother-in-law was a former fae court assassin, but he would do anything in the world for Kira. Even dress up in an uncomfortable suit and go through a ceremony he didn’t understand, just to make her happy. 

And I won’t lie—a part of me was just the smallest bit… jealous. Not of this day, not even of their happiness, but of that unbreakable partnership. Of the certainty they shared that there was another person in the world who knew them completely and would never walk away. 

When shapeshifters form a true bond, it’s always for life, so that part was never in doubt. But even the human ceremony acknowledged the power of that promise, and I listened curiously as the minister led the simple vows and Kira pledged, among other things, to love her new husband till she took her last breath. 

Draven hadn’t shed a tear up to that point. The half-gryphon was as stoic as they came, but when she said something about “til death do us part,” I finally spotted a lip tremble. He even had to close his eyes for a moment before moving on to his own portion of the vows, which might have made me grin just a tiny bit.

He didn’t show his heart often, but where my sister was concerned, the former assassin was softer than a marshmallow on an Oklahoma sidewalk in July.

Just like my brothers when they’d found their own mates. 

I glanced over at Callum, where he sat beside Raine Kendrick—a human, and the other half of his heart. She was beaming with happiness now, but not so very long ago she’d endured horrific experiments that left her with four different types of Idrian magic. In a twist of fate, one of these magics was shapeshifter, which enabled her and Callum to form a true mate bond. The depth of their connection had surprised all of us, but no one more so than Callum.

I’d never seen my older brother smile much, ever. He was a confirmed workaholic and so darned responsible I’d often threatened to have the word tattooed on his forehead. But since he met Raine, he’d actually learned how to relax and break the rules from time to time. No longer a confirmed stoic, his gooey-eyed grins were almost nauseating, and that was coming from me. 

And then there was my younger brother, Declan. He might not have a true mate bond, but he was a silver dragon—an empath who could feel others’ emotions. He would never be the first to talk about his own feelings, but his relationship with his mate, Skye, ran deeper than any mere words could express. And as far as I could tell from the way her head was resting on his shoulder while they watched the ceremony, they were also nauseatingly in love, and I had finally reached the point that I could acknowledge that without pain.

To everyone’s surprise, even Mom seemed ready to join the ranks of the disgustingly happy. She was sitting in the front row next to my father, Deverin, looking seriously chilled out for possibly the first time in her life. And that wasn’t all. After over twenty years of being separated, the two of them had been giving off unmistakably weird vibes for the past few weeks, and I’d even heard a rumor she was planning to visit him in Washington, DC.

Not that I was going to be the one to ask my parents whether they’d decided to mend their differences. It was weird enough that Deverin had stuck around after helping us take down Blake’s army of magically augmented humans. I wasn’t sure we were ready for him to decide he wanted to be part of our lives permanently.

But whatever he intended, he and Mom were practically attached at the hip these days, and that left me. Last bastion of singleness in the family. Feeling strangely adrift now that all the rest of them were… 

Content? Healing? Whatever the right word was, they had all found their path in life. Found their person and their purpose. No intervention needed. And I had no idea how to feel about that.

An elbow in my side jolted me out of my wandering thoughts, and I looked to my right, forgetting to paste on my usual smirk as I met the cool and disapproving stare of my brother’s executive assistant. 

“Stop it,” Angelica muttered under her breath. 

Something about the icy blonde gryphon seemed to bring out the worst in me, and today was no exception. “Stop what?” I murmured back. “Stop looking amazing in this suit? Because I don’t think I can do that.” 

Angelica never bothered to respond to my casual flirting with anything but squinty-eyed disapproval. “You appear to be contemplating something devious. If you ruin this wedding with some sort of juvenile prank, I swear on my life that I will call up a thunderstorm and park it over your house for a week.”

Apparently, on me, contemplative looked more like plotting. Or maybe Anj just didn’t believe I was capable of deep, introspective thought.

But now I was curious, and feeling more than a little rebellious.

“Can you actually do that? Because I know a few people who definitely deserve a thunderstorm with their name on it.” 

She just glared at me before turning back towards the front, where the minister was now overseeing the exchange of rings. Another odd human custom that seemed to make Kira all misty-eyed when she talked about it. I’d even helped her pick out their rings—elegant bands of twined silver and bronze that symbolized their very different forms of magic.

Both Kira and Draven were crying now, as they exchanged the simple tokens—in that moment seeing no one in the room but each other. Remembering, perhaps, as they pledged to entwine their futures, all that they’d risked, all that they’d endured to come this far.

Huh. Apparently weddings made me soppier than usual. Thankfully, it wasn’t a long ceremony, or I might have started composing poetry. 

Only a few moments later, the minister pronounced them husband and wife, which seemed to be the prompt for an enthusiastic kiss. The crowd cheered—except for Callum’s adopted children, who hid their eyes and made gagging noises—and with that, the ceremony was over, and it was time for the real party to begin.

The reception, they called it. Usually consisting of some combination of cake, dancing, and numerous toasts to the bride and groom. But Kira had simply wanted a big party with all of her family and friends, so we’d prepared enough food for an army of dragons and invited everyone who’d been a part of her life, or Draven’s, to share it with us.

But the coming crowd meant rearranging the space once again, so I shed my suit jacket and helped stack chairs while Callum, Faris, and Logan set up tables. Everyone else was scurrying around bringing out food, helping the band set up, and accomplishing innumerable other small tasks—everyone except for Angelica, who directed the whole circus while glaring at the master list on a tablet in front of her out of narrowed blue eyes.

Not that she needed the list. My guess was that she’d had it memorized for weeks. No one on earth was as organized or as prepared, which was why Kira had begged her to take care of this part of the wedding festivities.

Well, that and the fact that she’d needed an excuse to convince Angelica to attend the wedding. The gryphon didn’t quite seem to know how to accept being a part of this crazy makeshift family of ours, but she’d chosen Callum over the Shapeshifter Court when it mattered most, so like it or not, she was one of us now. 

She must have seen me watching her because she straightened and waved me over.

“If you’re bored, you can help finish plating the appetizers in the kitchen. And then there are about six cases of elemental wine that need to come up from the basement.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied with a grin and a salute that only won me a sarcastic eyebrow twitch. 

Guess I would just have to try harder next time. 

I made my way into the kitchen, expecting the usual atmosphere of fast-paced efficiency. What I found was a scene of absolute chaos, as Irene—Faris’s dryad chef—tried to direct an army of eager but awkward helpers. The pitch of her voice was edging towards shrill, which meant her last nerve had already been trodden on, and knowing Irene, that could result in anything from flying cutlery to a stone-cold walkout.

So I rolled up my sleeves and waded in. 

First the gargoyle, who was actually looking quite dapper for the occasion, in a magnificent tuxedo… paired with flip-flops. 

“Hugh, my friend, could I convince you to abandon your culinary pursuits and serve as the door warden? They need someone out front checking invitations. Don’t want any gawkers trying to sneak into the wedding of the century.” 

Weirdly enough, that was an actual danger when the adopted daughter of the Shadow Court king married the oldest son of the fae king. A lot of local Idrians were curious, and I wouldn’t put it past a few of them to gatecrash. Thankfully, the stooped, grumpy gargoyle was the ideal choice to discourage them—not only because he took guarding things seriously, but because of the sphinx cat riding on his shoulder. Hugh never went anywhere without Chicken, and if anything could discourage unwanted guests, it was that scowling, pink gremlin face my sister loved so much.  

Also, I was pretty sure Irene was going to murder both Hugh and Chicken if they didn’t get out of her kitchen. And it seemed Hugh knew it, because he didn’t argue—just gave me a single taciturn nod and flip-flopped out the door on his way to the new post.

Next…

“Marilee?”

The harried-looking naiad looked up at me in a panic from the array of charcuterie boards in front of her. 

Marilee was not only an employee of The Portal but a princess in her own right, though she seemed to prefer working for Faris to performing largely ceremonial duties as a member of the naiad royal family. Now besties with my sister, she was bubbly and easily distracted, but also utterly dependable when it counted.

And she was clearly trying, but meat and cheese art didn’t seem to be her thing, and I could almost feel her anxiety rising as she tried to make patterns out of the chaos.

“If you have a second, I think the centerpieces for the tables are still in the walk-in.”

She visibly brightened and yanked off her gloves with a mock gasp of horror. “Oh shoot, I forgot the flowers. On it!” 

Then I turned to someone who belonged in a kitchen even less than my sister’s demon cat.

“Mom, what exactly are you doing to those shrimp?”

The former queen of the dragons scowled at the tray in front of her, where she’d been trying to arrange a shrimp cocktail… I think. Most of the cocktail sauce had spilled on the counter, and the shrimp were in a disorderly heap mixed with ice and bits of mangled parsley. 

“They won’t stay where I put them,” she grumbled. “And why do they need to be pretty? They’re only meant to be eaten.” 

Bless Mom’s heart, she’d never spent much time in the kitchen, and didn’t really care for any task that couldn’t be sorted by applying adequate force in the right direction. Which, for a dragon, usually means roaring or threatening to eat someone.

The kitchen was much too small for both her and Irene, so it was time for a sufficiently tempting distraction.

“Actually,” I suggested, “if you’re finished with that platter, I think I heard Callum asking for someone to keep an eye on Ari.” 

My adopted niece had sprite magic, which meant she could teleport, and at six, she was too young to know how dangerous it could be. Especially with this many people running around. Ordinarily Kes and Shane would have had eyes on her, but they’d left town a few weeks back on a pilgrimage of sorts, and no one knew when they’d be back.

Fortunately, my stern, commanding, insanely powerful dragon mother had a galactic-sized soft spot for her adopted grandchildren.

“Very well.” She shot another grimace at the wayward shrimp, wiped her hands on a towel, and vanished out the swinging door into the bar area. 

That was three down, and Irene was beginning to look like her stress levels had declined to somewhere below “imminent heart attack.” She still had Raine and Declan working away with quiet efficiency, so I winked at her, stole a cupcake, and then dodged a flying spatula as I ducked out the door into the back hallway. 

First mission accomplished. 

But before I could head down the stairs into the basement, I spotted a solitary lurker leaning against the wall—a young man of below average height with warm brown skin, long dark hair pulled up in a knot, and unreadable dark eyes.

Nobody knew exactly how old Ethan was—not even him—but my best guess was somewhere in his early twenties. He’d filled out since joining our crew—his shoulders beginning to broaden until he no longer looked like a weedy teenager. But he’d spent over a decade as a prisoner of the fae queen, and her cruelty had left its mark. Even now that his magic was under control and he’d found ways to use it to heal instead of destroy, he struggled with large crowds, and even more so with believing that he was truly a part of our family. 

“Aha! Just who I was looking for,” I said, jerking my chin in a casual greeting. “They need six cases of elemental wine brought up from the basement, and I could use some extra hands.”

“You need extra hands, or you’re afraid I might set something on fire if I’m left alone too long?”

The question that might have once come with a bitter grimace was accompanied by a wry grin instead, so I grinned back in response. “Well, they do need someone to light the candles for the centerpieces, so if you’re offering…”

I heard a quiet laugh. “I’ve officially retired from being a human blowtorch, but thanks.”

He already sounded tired, and the festivities weren’t even half over.

“You know you’re welcome to chill in Faris’s office if you need a break from the crowd.”

He nodded. “And I appreciate that they trust me that much.”

“But…”

His sideways glance told me I needed to stop meddling, but then he surprised me by answering my unspoken question anyway. “It would be far too easy for me to run from this. From them. From trying to become someone other than what she tried to make of me. Easy to stop trying. If I don’t push myself… I’ll just end up a prisoner again.”

“You know my whole family would do whatever it takes to keep that from happening.”

His mouth twisted. “Because you all think you owe me.”

It was true that his magic was the only reason Callum was still alive. However… “That’s not why.”

“And maybe someday I’ll convince myself to believe you. But until then?” He shrugged. “I lurk in hallways and try not to run away from the real reason.”

The kid was braver than I would ever be. “Then let’s go get that wine before Angelica finds out I’m slacking off.”

Ethan laughed quietly as we headed for The Portal’s basement. “I know you’re not actually scared of her.”

No, I wasn’t. Angelica Renner intimidated a lot of people with her freezing stare and her unapproachable aura. But I’d seen her in a less guarded moment, and there was a great deal more to her than ruthless efficiency and buttoned-up precision. Behind that icy control were unimaginably deep wounds—wounds that I knew she wished she’d never revealed. 

Especially not to me. Because for whatever reason, we couldn’t seem to stop pushing each other’s buttons.

“Oh, I’m most definitely scared,” I told Ethan. “She threatened to park a storm right over my house if I messed any of this up.”

He looked at me thoughtfully. “Can gryphons do that?”

“I don’t want to be the one to find out,” I answered truthfully, as we each grabbed a case of wine and headed back upstairs.

Seamus was already busy mixing drinks behind the bar and nodded his thanks as we dropped off our burdens. “Hey Ethan, you want to give me a hand back here?”

I saw the younger man’s shoulders tense slightly. “I don’t think I’m quite ready.”

“More than good enough for this crowd,” Seamus responded easily. “But only if you feel up to it.”

“How long have you been bartending?” I asked Ethan curiously. I hadn’t been hanging out at The Portal much lately, so I’d probably missed a lot of the changes happening since Faris had gone more public with his business.

“About a month,” Ethan admitted. “And only on slow nights.”

“I’ve been getting busier with my new job,” Seamus explained. “So I’m training Ethan to take some hours for me. He’s got a good eye and—which might be the best part—he doesn’t reorganize my stuff.” 

Seamus had recently taken on the newly established position of Idrian advisor to the mayor of Oklahoma City, which was perfect for him. He was the chillest guy I knew, an enthusiastic Oklahoma history buff, and also a shrewd judge of people. 

But he’d been a pivotal part of The Portal’s community for too long for him not to be badly missed, so I was glad he’d found someone like Ethan to help out. The kid had a strangely calm, quiet presence that I suspected would only grow as he settled in over the coming months.

“Sounds like a great fit to me,” I said, offering Ethan an affirming nod. “Go ahead. I’ve got this.”

New guests were already streaming in for the reception, and the place was starting to get crowded, so I was about to head back down to the basement for more wine when I noticed one pair of important guests already looking as if they were preparing to leave. 

Kira and Draven were nowhere in sight—and I knew she would want to say goodbye—so I wandered over and tried to drop a subtle hint in that direction.

“Kira will murder me if I let you leave before she has a chance to say hi.”

Vinrath Elduvar—heir to the fae throne and Draven’s half brother—bowed his head slightly in what looked like a formal apology. “Please apologize for me and tell her I’ll be back in a few weeks. I actually have a few things I need to ask her advice on, but it can wait until she returns from her trip.”

Humans had a tradition of going away on something called a “honeymoon” after their weddings, so Kira and Draven were heading out for New Zealand first thing in the morning.  

“Any way I can help until then?” 

“Only if you have recently become an expert on human wedding traditions and expectations.” 

I didn’t know him well, but I’d been around Rath enough to hear something off in his tone. “Well, I’m now certified in the arts of hanging fairy lights, arranging flowers, and decorating cupcakes, but beyond that I’m probably not your guy. Are you contemplating a career change?”

I’d meant it as a joke, but his cool reaction told me the jest had missed the mark.

“Rather a status change. It seems I will very soon be planning for a”—he paused before pronouncing the word with a bit of bite—“wedding of my own.”

Whoa. That was the first I’d heard of the fae prince being engaged. “Congrats. I didn’t know you had anyone in mind.”

“Neither,” Rath said a little savagely, “did I. But I have been informed that it is in the best interests of our continuing peace with humans that I agree to accept an… arrangement, shall we say.”

I glanced at his father, Dathair, who appeared to be pretending that this conversation didn’t exist. 

Ohhh. It looked like the fae king had given his heir an ultimatum, and neither of them were very happy with the other at the moment. 

“My condolences.” That sort of thing didn’t really happen among shapeshifters, but arrangements of that kind seemed far more common for the fae. “Who is the lucky girl?”

“A senator’s daughter,” Rath announced in clipped tones.

Wait, the fae prince was marrying a human?

“She will, of course, be of the correct age and lineage, with a well-connected family and a father willing to pay out millions in bribes.”

There was no missing the bitterness there, and it was followed by a quiet command from Dathair.

“Enough. We have already agreed. This is the price of your position, and the sacrifice we must make to continue inhabiting this world in peace.”

And I would bet a great deal of money that it was also the reason they were departing in haste. 

Dathair would not want his older son finding out he’d arranged a marriage for Rath. Not when Dathair’s own arranged marriage was the reason Draven had lost his mother at a tragically young age.

My new brother-in-law’s mom had been Dathair’s first love. She was a gryphon, and they’d been together for several years before he’d been forced to take the throne. By all accounts, they’d been deeply in love, so when Dathair had returned to the fae court and chosen to take a fae wife to solidify his claim to the throne, their mate bond had been shattered. 

Such breakings usually only happened when one partner died, but no matter the cause, it was a devastatingly painful event with consequences both physical and magical, and in Draven’s mom’s case, it had led to her death.

I could at least respect the fae king for not wanting to ruin his oldest son’s wedding with news like this, so I just settled for a formal nod of acknowledgment. “I’ll tell Kira. Let us know when you’ll be back in town.”

Then I watched them slip out through the back door and did my best to suppress the urge to somehow fix this. 

Not only for Rath, but for Kira. She cared a lot about the younger fae prince, and would be devastated to find out that he was about to suffer another loss. 

It wasn’t my job to fix it, and I knew that. Not my circus, not my clowns. Not my dungeon, not my dragons? I was going to have to try that one out on Angelica later.

But the truth was, I’d spent my whole life building this bad habit of trying to make everything okay for everyone around me.

For as long as I could remember, I’d felt ultimately responsible for balancing out all of my family’s crazy. Mom had always been busy, distracted, and intense—even when I was tiny. Callum took after her, and buried himself in work when Kira disappeared. Neither of them ever took time for themselves, so someone had to tease them and lighten the mood until they remembered to laugh once in a while. 

Declan, as an empath, struggled with all the negative emotions that came with being a part of the dragon royal family, so he’d needed someone lighthearted to balance the load. Keep things stable. 

So I’d been the one to help Declan stay sane when emotions got too turbulent. To keep Callum from working himself to death because he blamed himself for Kira’s disappearance. And to keep Mom from biting someone’s head off whenever she felt like she’d failed at the most important things. 

And because my mom and my brothers were who they were, those tasks I’d set for myself amounted to a full-time job. I was never bored, and my family knew they could count on me for anything, but to anyone on the outside? I looked like a screwup who’d never found his calling in life. Who darted from one thing to another without worrying about the consequences. Too impulsive, too irresponsible—a thrill seeker and a goof-off who’d rather have fun than work. 

And yes, I’m definitely impulsive. I love a good adventure and a bad joke, and I have no desire to ever be tied to a desk. But I didn’t have a job because my family carried the weight of every shapeshifter life in North America, and someone had to make sure that weight didn’t break them. 

In a way, I was the emotional ballast that kept everyone steady in the storm we’d been weathering ever since Kira disappeared. But what do you do with ballast when you don’t need it anymore? When you want to run faster, fly higher, or sail away?

You throw it overboard. And I didn’t even know who I was when I wasn’t being their emotional linchpin.

Darn it, there I went being introspective again. I needed to get back to work so I didn’t have time for all this uncomfortable thinking.

But when I got back down to the basement, I found that my truancy had already been noted. Angelica stood over the remaining four cases of wine with her lips pinched and her brows drawn, clearly deep in contemplation of something that threatened to give her heartburn.

“I’m sorry,” I said, adding a crooked grin to my apology, but mostly because I knew it would annoy her. “I got caught up with the guests, but I can carry two cases at a time to make up for it.”

“And have you trip on the stairs and break two dozen bottles of twenty-year-old wine that took me months to track down?” Her freezing stare made the basement almost cold enough to wish for my suit jacket. “No thank you, ro-Deverin.”

I could have handled those two dozen bottles with ease, but Angelica would trust me when gargoyles learned to take vacations.

Come to think of it, maybe when she learned to take vacations. Because something told me that work was what provided structure and meaning and kept my beautiful blonde nemesis going from day to day. 

And without it…

“You’re thinking again.” 

And yes, I’d just made the same uncomfortable observation, but she said it as if she half expected the unaccustomed exercise to melt my brain. Because just like everyone else, all she saw was the part of me that kept all those plates spinning, and I suddenly wished that… what? 

What did I wish was different? It wasn’t like I was faking my personality. I’m a bit goofy. I flirt a bit too much, and I’m fierce when it comes to protecting the ones I love. 

So why did I only now begin to feel like something was missing? And why did I have to have this crisis of purpose in front of Angelica of all people?

“Don’t worry.” I forced a smile and winked. “I won’t make a habit of it.”

Maybe what I needed was a new project. I’d finished surveying what parts of Idria we could reach through the gateways, which meant Faris didn’t really need me. And Callum’s staff was now a well-oiled machine, both here and at the Shapeshifter Court, which meant he didn’t need me either. Mom was going to Washington, Kira had her new life with Draven…

 “Do you have a date you’re avoiding, or is there some other reason you’re lingering in the basement?” Angelica asked coolly.

Nope, no date. Not this time. For some reason, I hadn’t wanted to bring a casual date to Kira’s wedding. The day felt too special for that. 

“I guess I thought it would be a great place for thinking,” I responded, with an uncharacteristic bite to my words. And I could tell she noticed, because her attention suddenly fixed on me like a raptor sighting prey.

And then, just for an instant, some tiny part of her seemed to soften. “Don’t worry about the wine,” she said smoothly, turning on her heel and heading for the stairs. “Take whatever time you need and bring it up later.”

Compassion? From Angelica Renner? I must look worse than I thought. 

“You don’t have to leave. I’m fine. And I definitely have no plans to sit here sobbing over losing my sister to a fae.”

“Oh, really?” The gryphon turned on her stiletto heel to look me dead in the eye, and then the raptor part of her struck. “So it’s not bothering you that no one in your family seems to need you to fix their problems anymore?”

For the first time in my life, I thought I knew what it felt like to be a mouse. But how could she know? She seemed to view me with nothing but scorn and irritation, so how had she seen that much of my true purpose?

“Is it that obvious?” 

She folded her arms across her chest, tablet still clutched in one hand. “Only to anyone with eyeballs and a brain.”

“Good to know,” I said as casually as I could. “Thanks for the diagnosis, Doc. Got a prescription for me?” It was intentionally a little sarcastic, but she responded seriously for once.

“Sorry, but you have to find that for yourself. The good news is, this is your big chance.”

“To do what?”

“To get your own life, instead of borrowing your siblings’.”

Aaaand she caught me with an uppercut.

It shouldn’t hurt. I knew how people saw me, and most days I really didn’t care. I’d committed my life to my family, and that was enough for me. But for some reason, it mattered a lot, and I realized I didn’t want her scorn. I wanted her to understand.

For that to happen, though, I was going to have to get past her walls, and mine. Be honest about a few things I’d never been honest about before. Show her the parts of myself I’d always reserved for my family and closest friends.

It wouldn’t be easy, but… Have I mentioned I’m impulsive? 

In that exact moment, I vowed to myself—even if no one else ever saw the truth, one day, Angelica Renner was going to admit that I wasn’t just an irresponsible flirt. 

One day, she was going to believe that I could be trusted.

One day, she was even going to use my actual name. 

But today was probably not going to be that day, so I just shrugged, picked up a case of wine, and moved towards the stairs. 

“Noted,” I said as I passed her. “Thanks, Doc. Same time next week?”

I left her glaring at my back as I took two stairs at a time on my way back up to the reception.

Weirdly, I was actually feeling better after that emotional throat punch from Angelica. Or maybe I was feeling better because I’d set myself a new goal. Either way, for now it was enough, and I headed back into the party with a genuine smile on my face.

Which was how Kira caught me—grinning like a fool at nothing in particular. She was still in her white dress, chatting animatedly with friends, but when she saw me, she whispered something to Draven, abandoned her other guests, and headed straight for me.

“I know that look,” she accused, hopping up onto a barstool and holding out her hand. About three seconds later, Seamus slid a full glass down the bar, and she caught it without even looking. Took a sip of her ginger ale and sighed appreciatively. “Still my favorite. Okay, big brother, I have about three minutes before someone comes looking for me, so either you voluntarily tell me what you’re plotting or I’ll be forced to drag it out of you later.”

 She was smiling up at me, amber eyes brilliant with happiness, and for a second I had a flashback to the dark years after we lost her. When she and my mom’s closest friend vanished for eleven years—years that had torn my family apart and shaped us into the people we were today. 

Shaped me into the man I was. 

But when I looked around me—at the people gathered in this room, at the bonds we’d formed and the victories we celebrated—I had to admit that in many ways, we were better for having come through that darkness.

Our family was closer. Our world was bigger. We talked to each other and actually tried to change. The dragons, too, had been forced to grow, and to learn things we couldn’t have learned any other way. 

None of us would have chosen to go through those years, but neither would I take them back. Not if it meant losing everything we’d come here to celebrate. 

That the sibling I’d once mourned as lost was not only alive but thriving, surrounded by a family she’d found and fought to keep. That she was marrying a man who adored her and had more than proven he was worthy of her. And that somehow, our strange little family not only kept getting bigger, but had survived yet another attempt to tear us apart.

“Ryker?” 

Kira’s tap on my arm brought me back to the moment, and when I just flashed her my most innocent expression, she shook her head at me. “Nope, not gonna fly, brother mine. What’s wrong?”

I didn’t want to ruin her day with my weird mood, but I also knew Kira wasn’t the type to let anything go. “I don’t think anything is wrong, exactly. Just feeling…” 

“Like nothing will be the same after today?” 

Couldn’t argue with that, so I settled for a rueful look and reached out to ruffle her hair. Thankfully, I caught myself and pulled my hand back before I messed up the elaborate structure of curls, pins, and about six cans of hairspray. Marilee would kill me if I so much as breathed on it, so instead I admitted part of the truth. 

“That’s probably it. All this crying is making me philosophical. I think all I need is to get out of this suit and sleep it off.” Maybe Kira would be content with that and go back to enjoying her wedding day.

But I should have known better.

My sister caught my sleeve, looked up into my eyes, and went straight for the heart.

“I see you,” she said quietly. “I know you think no one does, but I do.”

Gosh darn it all, I wanted to beg her not to make me cry again. But now that she’d said it, I had to ask. I had to know. Because out of all my siblings, it might be Kira’s voice that mattered most, probably because she hadn’t known me for most of my life. 

“And what do you see?”

“I see the way you care for everyone around you. I see you go out of your way to set people at ease, protect those who need it, and become whatever is most necessary in the moment. And I see how you set yourself to the side every single time. How you hate that people dismiss you as the irresponsible one when nothing could be farther from the truth.”

Well. So much for not crying.

“You’re too young to be so serious,” I complained, but with a twisted smile so she knew I wasn’t truly upset. 

“But Ryker, none of those are bad things. When Mom had just found me again for the first time and I was terrified out of my wits, you were one of the main reasons I decided to stay. To give you all a chance.”

I was?

“Declan made me feel understood, but you… you made me laugh. You not only accepted me—you were ready to fight for me from the very first moment. Not because of what I represented, but because you loved me just for existing. You were the first one to feel like family. Do you have any idea how incredible that is?”

“No,” I said, hoping she couldn’t hear how choked up I was getting. “But thank you. I guess I just need to figure out what to do with all these strange talents now that my family doesn’t need them anymore.”

Kira burst out laughing.

I’d been trying to be serious for once, and she was laughing at me. 

Which I absolutely deserved. “Okay, okay, I know—I’m hilarious.”

“You are,” she managed to get out between chuckles. “But seriously, Ryker. Look at this family. Do you really think we don’t need the glue that holds us together?” 

She gestured to the room, and… I finally got it. She wasn’t talking about our blood family, but the one we’d built. The one that was always growing, always changing, always had room for one more. 

What had she said? That I was the first one to make her feel like family?

And thanks to today, I knew where to find some folks who didn’t quite feel like family yet. 

“Thanks, sis.” I ignored her hair and makeup and wrapped her up in a big-brother bear hug that she immediately returned. “I think I know what I need to do next.”

She shot me a suspicious look. “Why do those words strike terror in my heart?”

“Because you are wise beyond your years, and you know me better than anyone,” I returned with a wink.

“Will I regret not asking you about your diabolical plan?”

“I hope so. Because that will probably mean it was a smashing success.”

“Ryker!”

I just laughed and patted her—gently—on top of her elaborate updo. “You’re the best, sis. I hope today is everything you ever dreamed it could be.”

“It’s so much better,” she told me with a soft smile. “Now go out there and make your own dreams come true.”

I gagged dramatically. “What am I, a princess who sings to animals?”

She set a hand on my arm and regarded me with fake solemnity. “You can be anything you want to be, and I will always support you. Even if you decide to start serenading the local wildlife.” 

My grin turned lopsided. “I know.”

“Love you.”

“I know that too.”

Her elbow landed squarely in my gut. “Stop being insufferable and go enjoy the party. I have some dancing to do.”

“Save one for me?”

“Always.”

She blew me a kiss and danced off into the crowd, and suddenly I knew… We were going to be okay. 

I was going to be okay.

Because there would always be one more place at the table. Always be more people who needed to find that place. And if they needed someone to help them get there? 

I was more than ready to be that person.

And I knew exactly who my first victim—did I say victim? I meant beneficiary—was going to be...