Chapter 28
Hayden
I haven’t seen my brothers in decades. Haven’t spoken to them in years.
But here they are, breaking into my kitchen in the middle of the night, rummaging through my things like this is an appropriate way to reconnect.
Levi handled the immortal break-in surprisingly well…aside from nearly bludgeoning them with a decorative book. Honestly, I’d have respected it.
Now Levi stands in my doorway, arms crossed like he might physically keep me from leaving.
“Are you okay?” he asks as I pace.
I should be the one asking him that. The man just had a run-in with my former-god brothers. I just huff, scratching the back of my neck. “They break into my apartment and expect a reunion? The audacity.”
Levi’s lips twitch, but his eyes don’t lose their concern. He steps closer, fingers brushing my arm. “You don’t owe them anything, Hayden. Not if it costs you.”
I glance at him. At the quiet steadiness of him, the way his presence has become this tether in my life, something solid amid all the uncertainty. A few months ago, I might have walked away. Might have ignored my brothers, let them slip away again, the same way I let everything slip away.
But that was before him.
Now, I have something to hold on to.
“I know.” I exhale. “But I have to at least talk to them.” The problem with centuries of silence is that closure starts to sound like obligation.
Levi nods, squeezing my arm. “Say the word if you need backup. Emotional support, coffee runs, forced group hugs…aggressive wholesomeness is my specialty.”
A laugh fills my chest. “Noted.”
“Or, I can call for reinforcements. You know Dominic and Elijah would have a field day with this.”
“Please no.”
He laughs, pressing a kiss to my cheek, lingering long enough for my pulse to slow, for my chest to loosen just a fraction.
And then I leave.
When I arrive at the funeral home, Zane and Porter are already in the lobby. Irene takes one look at the brewing brotherly chaos, nods, Good luck, don’t destroy my lobby, and disappears.
Porter leans against the counter, arms crossed. “Nice place,” he says, surveying. “Depressing, but…it suits you.”
Zane, on the other hand, doesn’t survey a damn thing except me.
He grins. Wide, brilliant, too charming for his own good.
“There’s my baby brother,” he booms, clapping a hand on my shoulder with such casual cheer it’s impressive.
Like we’re not estranged gods who haven’t managed a civil word since humans thought sails were peak innovation.
I stiffen under his touch. “We are the same age.”
He winks. “Doesn’t feel that way, does it?”
I roll my eyes.
Zane and Porter could not be more different.
Zane is sunlight in perpetual motion. Golden hair, golden grin, golden ego…people orbit him without meaning to.
Porter’s the opposite: a riptide. Quieter, deliberate, a current you only notice when it’s already pulled you under.
And me? I’ve never been either.
Which makes this feel like standing between the sun and the sea, drowning in both.
Zane gestures vaguely at me, tilting his head like he’s studying something new. “So, that ray of brightness from this morning…with the book. What’s his story?”
“Levi,” I say, shifting my weight to my back leg. “He’s a florist and he’s…”
“Adorable,” Zane says, finishing my sentence.
Porter makes a noise of agreement. “Looks like trouble, though.”
I scoff. “You have no idea.”
Zane smirks. “I like him already.”
Porter, ever the one to cut straight to the point, watches me closely. “And how much does this adorable Levi know?”
I hesitate a beat. “He knows.”
Zane’s brows shoot up, his surprise immediate. “Everything?”
“Enough,” I reply, intentionally vague. “Everything” feels like giving away too much of us, and “not enough” feels like admitting I’ve kept him in the dark.
Porter lets out a low whistle, exchanging a look with Zane. “That’s a careful way of putting things…but damn, it’s about time.”
“So, you finally let someone in?” Zane hops up on the counter, his long legs nearly touching the ground. “Honestly, Hayden…that’s huge. Proud of you,” he says, pausing awkwardly to clear his throat. “Even if it took centuries.”
Something tightens in my chest. They’re not wrong, but the casual way they say it grates against something raw.
Where the hell have they been? They laugh like no time has passed, like they’ve been on the sidelines rooting for me all along.
They weren’t.
They left me.
So instead of matching their smiles or letting them bask in their own satisfaction, I let my shadows pool heavier at my feet.
“Why now?” My voice is sharper than intended, but the bitterness rising in my chest feels long overdue. “After decades of silence, why show up now?”
Porter sighs, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “The Fates reached out.”
The words hit like ice water. The Fates don’t reach out. They meddle. They unravel. They choose the worst possible moment and call it destiny.
“The Fates never reach out,” I say slowly. “Not unless it’s to deliver catastrophic news. Usually mine.”
Zane straightens, suddenly serious. “Why didn’t you tell us you found a way back in the Act?”
I stare at them, my pulse kicking up. “What? I didn’t. That’s…that’s simply not true.”
Porter’s jaw tightens. “Well, according to them, it is. And the three of us need to be together to sign it.”
My thoughts race. Of course. After centuries of silence, of leaving me to claw through this mess alone, now they appear. Because they think their eternity is suddenly on the line. Not because they believed I could handle it. Not because they remembered me.
I’ve chased this for centuries, only to circle endlessly, stonewalled at every turn. So why are the Fates pushing this narrative now? Why drag my brothers back into it? What game are they playing?
My head spins with questions I don’t have answers to. The door creaks open before I can bombard my brothers further. I turn just in time to see Levi step inside, balancing a tray of coffees and a bag of pastries, looking determined.
A do-over.
He felt the tension this morning, and in classic Levi fashion, everything can be fixed with caffeine and kindness.
I don’t know whether to kiss him or curse him.
“Good morning!” he announces, breezing into the family minefield like it’s Sunday brunch, not a supernatural intervention. “Figured this meeting deserved a proper start.”
Zane’s smirk widens. “Oh, yeah. I really like this one.”
Levi eyes them warily as he hands out coffee, then looks back at me, searching for signs of distress. I take the cup he offers, my fingers brushing his, and the knot twisting in my chest eases.
“It’s so great to officially meet you both,” he says, leaning into me, sipping his coffee. “In town long?”
Porter, rummaging through the bag of still-warm pastries, pipes up. “Not sure yet.”
Levi nods, then zeroes in on me. “You should have dinner with us. Tonight. My place.”
I narrow my eyes. “Levi—”
He reaches for my hand, squeezing lightly, then drops his voice so only I can hear. “They’re your family, Hayden,” he says. “And family deserves a meal.”
Something about the way he says family makes my throat tighten.
Zane perks up, a flaky croissant in each hand. “That’s an invitation I could get behind.”
Levi grins, looking far too pleased with himself. “Good.”
Before I can argue why this is a massive mistake, Zane closes the gap and sweeps Levi into a bear hug.
“Wait…” I start, but it’s too late.
The air crackles. A spark leaps from Zane’s touch to Levi, sharp and bright. Levi jerks back with a startled yelp.
“What in the actual fuck?” he gasps, recoiling from Zane’s larger-than-life grasp, hair standing like he wrestled a balloon.
Zane just grins, utterly unrepentant. “Shit. Right. That happens sometimes. Occupational hazard.”
Levi stares are him, wide-eyed. “What are you, a human joy buzzer?”
Porter sighs heavily, rubbing his temples. “You see why we don’t take him anywhere?”
Zane elbows Levi lightly, still grinning. “Your loss. I’m…shockingly good company.” He winks, clearly far too pleased with himself.
Levi snorts. Porter groans.
And I just pinch the bridge of my nose, knowing full well I’m powerless against Levi’s dangerous optimism…and doomed to endure every catastrophic minute of this dinner.
Who knows, maybe family dinners are just another kind of haunting.
And I’ve never been good at resisting ghosts.
· · ·
I’m herded through the market against my will like a wayward sheep toward overpriced produce and public humiliation.
The shepherds? Levi and Elijah.
Levi insisted we needed him. That no one threw together a last-minute dinner party or handled messy family dynamics better than Elijah.
I had questions.
Levi had answers.
“So, naturally, you called him?”
“Obviously,” Levi had replied. “Do you know how to cook a reconciliation dinner?”
I’d scowled. “That’s a deeply unfair assumption.”
Elijah then popped his head around the corner. “It’s a perfectly accurate assumption, Hayden. I’ve seen your fridge…it’s where good intentions go to die.”
And that had been the end of the discussion.
Which is how I ended up here: fluorescent lights, shoppers who wield carts like gladiators, and overpriced everything. Elijah leads the charge, shopping list held high like a sacred artifact, grabbing ingredients from every aisle.
Levi and I trail behind, whispering urgently like we’re casing the joint to steal diamonds rather than buy vegetables.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” I utter under my breath, glancing around.
He nudges me with his hip. “Oh, honey. That’s abundantly clear.”
“This”—I gesture to Elijah, who’s studying a bottle of olive oil intently—“feels a touch excessive. It’s dinner, not the Last Supper.”
Levi side-eyes me. “With the immortals you haven’t spoken to since cable television was invented.”
I scowl deeper. “See? That right there. That’s drama, Levi.”
“It is dramatic,” Levi hisses. “You’re literally hosting a strained family reunion over a roast.”
“I didn’t choose this!”
“You didn’t exactly say no, either!”
Elijah, without turning around, calls over his shoulder, “If you two are quite finished whisper-fighting, we need shallots.”
I blink. “Shallots?”
Elijah signs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fuck. Save me from these grown men who probably microwave toast.”
Levi grins. “You’re doing the Lord’s work, Elijah.”
Elijah waves him off. “I know. I’m basically a saint.” Then, with a smirk, he glances over his shoulder at me. “Are your brothers hot?”
I choke. “Excuse me?” I ask at the same time Levi nods his head aggressively.
“If I’m cooking an emotional support meal, the least you can do is provide eye candy and gossip,” he says, tossing a container of rosemary into the cart. “Single? Taken? Give me the rundown.”
I glare at him. “Does insufferable count?”
Levi, looking far too amused by all of this: “You’ll get something out of it, alright.”
Elijah wiggles his eyebrows. “Intriguing.”
I drag a hand down my face. “This was a mistake.”
“Please,” Elijah snaps, passing potatoes one by one to Levi to bag. “You accepted my help because you know I can salvage this disaster.” He levels me with a look. “Which means, deep down, you know this dinner is important.”
I roll my shoulders, swallowing down the truth in that.
Brothers I haven’t seen in decades are suddenly here. The Fates have dangled the alleged loophole in front of them. And now my carefully constructed world, the one I’ve only just started to feel like is mine, threatens to shift beneath my feet.
Elijah, either oblivious or spectacularly indifferent to my existential dread, points toward the checkout. “Alright, Funeral Guy, buck up. Your mysterious, angst-ridden family awaits. Let’s see if we can keep tonight from becoming Stonevale Herald’s morning headline.”
I glare at Levi.
He just shrugs. “I mean…he’s not wrong.”