Chapter 11
ISAAC
Isat cross-legged on the floor with my back pressed against the wall, staring at the titanium door of the celestial room with Emma Bunton playing in my earbuds.
It was room only me and my brothers could enter, packed with more power to fight the rising apocalypse.
“One day,” I said. “One day you’ll be here, Preston, and we’ll cross the threshold together.”
Filling our totems with diamonds activated our powers and unlocked the bolts across the door. The gold and sliver ones were gone now, only the pearly white one remained for The Star to open.
“One day,” I said again, wide awake after a two-hour nap.
Sleep? Pfft. Who needed sleep when the brain wanted to ponder things?
I’d awoken to the sound of rain beating against my window, and lots of questions about the fae woman. They did their own kind of beating on my brain, driving me crazy.
And so, I came here to think. Ever since I saw my starry brother descend in a cone of magical light, I came here to meditate and hope. To manifest, pleading with Hecate for an answer.
I never used to pray much, not until I learned about my true self. Now I spoke to the goddess every single night, and sometimes during the day.
“I just want him here,” I whispered, eyes on my littlest brother’s lock.
There was a window to the right of the door overlooking a small courtyard with a bench and empty flowerpots. According to the layout of the mansion, there wasn’t a room behind the door, only the outside.
Wild. A properly secret space indeed.
The deluge outside fell in relentless sheets, the water shimmering on the windowpane in the light of a wall sconce. Kind of nice, kind of soothing in a way.
Along with thinking in this spot, I liked to read Juliet Aurora’s diary. The black-and-gold tome book with an embossed, golden Mickey Mouse on the cover sat in my lap.
Correction: my birth mother’s diary.
It kind of gave me strength in a strange way.
Not just because of the note she’d left us, but because I felt like the baton had been passed to me.
The responsibly to be the head of my family from one Sun to another.
Which was ridiculous. I didn’t need to do that to myself.
But wanting to keep Riley safe only exacerbated it.
As if I’d summoned him, Riley appeared, shuffling over to me in a canary yellow dressing gown and pink, fluffy slippers.
He sported the messiest bedhead ever.
I smiled, always happy to see him. “You look like a Battenberg cake.”
He glowered, then yawned. “Rude.”
“Battenberg is elite,” I said. “Take it as a compliment.”
He plonked himself beside me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Can’t sleep.” He yawned again.
“You seem super sleepy, though.”
He shook his head, rubbing at his cheek. “I’m not. Can’t stop thinking about everything. This fae woman… What are we supposed to do?”
As usual, I didn’t have an answer for him. Only that I was shitting a brick about the next stage.
However, I did offer a sliver of comfort. “Her being a pile of bones might buy us some time to gain the upper hand.”
“I really hope so.” He rested his head on my shoulder after another yawn.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to bed?” I patted him on his head.
“No. I’m adding to the manifesting.”
I snorted gently. “Thanks, honey.”
He lifted his head, facing me. “How are you feeling?”
I shrugged. “You know.”
He nodded, returning his head to my shoulder.
It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, his head moving to my lap. I let him stay there until my eyes grew heavy and I slipped away into the land of nod myself.
Starlight.
Starlight.
Starlight swaddled in darkness.
Starlight in the streets. Unseen. Unseen. Unseen.
“The tides are turning. I can feel it. I can feel the becoming, I smell the flood of death and change. But where is she hiding, the one who piques my interest the most? She speaks to me in my dreams. She whispers of her greatness. Her voice slipped in, carried by the wind. Too late. Too late to act.”
The fae woman’s cackle followed her words.
Great. Dreaming again.
What did she mean? Who was this other she? A reference to herself in the third person, or someone else?
And what was with the unseen starlight?
Darn it! Even my dreams gave me a headache.
“Wake up now,” Dream Me commanded.
Only, I saw the stars. So many stars, winking and twinkling, hidden away.
Unseen…
Unseen…
Unseen…
What the fuck? Did I see them or not?
“Make it make sense!” I bellowed, every inch of me crawling with annoying little bites to my patience.
The unseen stars that were also seen grew brighter, bigger, filling a night sky with magical light.
“Is that you up there, littlest brother?” I said, my frustration on pause.
Unseen…
Unseen…
Unseen…
Wait. Unseen. As in Preston is unseen, not these stars?
Sunlight pulled me out of the sleep before I got an answer, streaming through the window, bathing my face in warmth.
My eyes adjusted immediately, another perk of being The Sun. I’d slept in the hallway, Riley curled up beside me.
I shook him gently. “Time to get up.”
He moaned, stirring a tad.
Bless.
“Riley, honey? You have to get up. Or at least get into a real bed.” I stretched, getting to my feet.
I knew what would get him up.
“Pre-Aurora, my back would be complaining about sleeping on a floor all night,” I said. “The last time I did it was after shagging this guy Rick in LA. He liked to use his tongue like a dick, and whoa did he eat me like a trifle. He—”
Riley shot upright. “Okay. I’m up.”
I snorted. “Success.”
He rubbed his eyes. “Trifle…”
“You sure you don’t want to hear the rest of the story?”
On his feet, he started walking away. “No. I’m fine. See you at breakfast.”
“Hey!” I yelled.
He paused, turning around. “What’s wrong?”
I opened my arms. “Where’s the good morning for your big brother?”
“We do good morning hugs now?”
I nodded enthusiastically. “As long your breath isn’t honking.”
“Rude!” He gave me a big, squishy hug.
“This is nice.” I patted his back.
The hug ended, and I ruffled his hair.
He giggled. “Silly big brother.”
“Yes, honey. Yes.” I ruffled those messy tresses again.
He scrunched up his face, smiling.
“Want to join me for a workout?”
Riley grimaced. “I’d better get back to Drake in case he wanders too far and sets off our bond.”
“Probably best,” I said.
Drake might be smoking hot, but I didn’t fancy seeing the guy’s cock swinging about in this hallway.
Ollie’s, on the other hand…
Thank Hecate he was okay. I wanted to check on him, but decided to wait until I saw him at breakfast. Best not to bug him when my existence already seemed to grate on his nerves.
I walked with Riley back to our bedrooms, glancing at the ceiling. Ollie’s room was on the second floor, directly above mine.
Sexy Agent Lovell is right on top of me…
Pfft. What a delusional fuckhead.
“See you in a bit,” my little brother said, vanishing into his room.
I slipped into mine, grabbing my workout clothes from the wardrobe.
I stared at the balcony for a moment. Should I sit out there and chill for a bit? Practice some yoga out there, draw down more of the sunshine, like I was doing right now, topping myself up with energy?
No. I’d rather work out my frustrations on a punch bag or treadmill. Sweat away the bullshit.
Quickly changing, I headed downstairs.
Ten minutes of jump rope, running for twenty, boxing for another twenty, and none of it was enough to clear my head. So, I went to the swimming pool below the gym—newly cleaned and reopened this past week after years of not being used.
Fancy having an indoor pool and never using it?
I’d dreamed of owning a house with a pool. One day, I wanted to move to Thailand and get myself a nice house with a pool, having fallen in love with it when I did photoshoots in Pattaya City and Bangkok a few years ago.
Fingers crossed I could make it happen.
I owned a penthouse apartment in London I barely saw. The nature of my job took me around the world, which I loved. But sometimes I missed my sofa and my view of the city.
That wasn’t a complaint, just a slice of pining.
What would Ollie think of me having a London penthouse?
And why did I care? What business was it of anyone’s other than the taxman?
I’d worked hard for everything I got. Between me and my brother David, who became a renowned architect, we clawed our way to success, giving ourselves and our parents comfortable lives.
We didn’t grow up like this. Mum and Dad worked hard, taking on so many jobs over the years, instilling the value of hard work into us from the get-go. So there.
Having slipped into a pair of black swimming trunks, I stood at the edge of the swimming pool, the glass walls glowing with golden light, the white tiles gleaming like marble in the sun.
I slid a finger around the band of my trunks, preparing myself for a swim.
By Hecate, I always got so defensive about my success. I guess I hated apologizing for my successes.
I dove into the water and swam a couple lengths, only for the session to come to a grinding halt when a figure appeared at the edge of the pool when I surfaced at the shallow end of the pool.
“Oh…” I said, pushing my hair back, standing with the water lapping at my waist.
Ollie stood there like a frozen sentinel, those hazel eyes the only part of him moving. They wandered down my body until he blinked and cleared his throat.
“Morning,” he grunted.
Whoa, those blue trunks of his left little to the imagination.
Hugging him perfectly with the promise of delights to choke on and lick beyond the pesky material blocking the heavenly goodies beyond.
I tried not to stare but fuck me hard. He was a fine specimen of a man, carved from muscle and wet dreams and I just wanted him to take me right here in the pool.
Bend me over the edge and screw me to nirvana.
Or vice versa if he wanted. I was versatile, up for most bedroom activities.
A flexible, adventurous gay guy, that was me. Tell me where to put it or how to bend and I’d make you one happy soldier.
Easy now, I warned myself, my cock firming.
I sank back into the water, swimming back into the deep end.
After several beats of awkward silence, and his vacant expression chilling the water, he said, “Thanks for healing me.”
His baritone got my boy bits wetter than this pool. “You’re welcome. How are you feeling?”
He folded his hands tightly over his crotch. “I’m fine. You?”
“Confused as always,” I answered, cock now at full attention.
Think unsexy thoughts…
“No thanks to the fae woman,” he responded, his lips twitching.
Was he about to smile?
“Absolutely,” I agreed. “The sooner she’s dead, the sooner I can get rid of this headache.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed, eyes locked onto me. “Do you want…erm…do you want some pills?”
It’d be a cute gesture if the line wasn’t delivered with such frostiness. “Figurative headache. At least at the moment.”
He nodded, glancing at one of the two exits—two sets of stairs connecting to the gym above.
“Are you swimming?” I asked.
“I…maybe later.”
“You can join me, if you like.” I spoke a tad too huskily.
Shit.
He blanched, backing away. “Thanks again.” He made a sharp exit, and I stopped myself from ogling his perky buns.
The man hated me and hated having to thank me.
And that only made me hornier.
I took my lust to the pool showers and found the release I truly needed from all the drama. I pleasured myself under the hot spray, stroking my cock with wild abandon until my cum sprayed the white tiles.
Twice. I pulled myself off twice. But it still wasn’t enough. I needed more, to feel the weight of a man on me, to connect with flesh, to feel kisses, to lose myself in red-hot lust. And soon. This itch couldn’t go on for much longer.