Chapter 41 Want and Wonder
WANT AND WONDER
Griffin leads me back downstairs, through the kitchen, and out the back door to a paved patio, brightly lit with orbs of light that I sense Kai’s power in. The humid air caresses my skin, rich with the scent of flowers as the sun begins to sink deeper on the horizon.
The rest of the Vestra is on the deck that leads to a fire pit surrounded by chairs, with a wide, shimmering pool beyond.
The surface ripples beneath the moons’ glow, but it’s what stretches beyond the pool that has my eyes racing to take it all in.
An expansive garden appears overgrown yet curated at the same time, spilling over with wildflowers in bursts of colors, twisting and winding into hidden paths that I’d be tempted to explore if it were lighter.
It’s stunning.
Serene.
“In Portelina, the weather’s always mild,” Griffin explains. “It’s like this all year round, making the outdoors an extension of the house.” He points at the tangled garden. “That’s the maze. For now, you should only enter with one of us. It’s easy to get turned around and lost in.”
“How can we be just a few hours away, and the weather and terrain are so different?” I ask, as a butterfly the size of my fingertips with fuchsia pink wings floats past me. I follow it to one of the light blue flowers before turning back to the others.
“We’re thousands of miles from Lowick,” Daire says. “Gliders travel far faster than what you’re used to.”
My brows shoot upward. “Thousands?”
He nods, the right side of his lips hitching higher like he’s concealing a secret—it’s one of my favorite almost smiles of his.
“We’re not talking about science or training.
This weekend is a break. So take a seat.
Relax. We’ll get you a drink. Dinner will be ready shortly.
” Daire raises a hand, and the fire pit dances with flames, inviting me to one of the six chairs gathered around it.
The guys fade into the house, leaving me my pick of seats. I choose the lone purple one, wishing I had sweatpants, so I didn’t have to think about keeping my knees together as I try to relax.
The double doors to the kitchen are propped wide open, allowing me to hear the jibes and easy chuckles exchanged between the five guys, along with the subtle clank of dishes.
It’s rare that I see them together outside of training or meals, something I know is intentional.
On the rare occasions that I catch them unfiltered and off script, it’s like seeing a different side of them, one that proves they’re more than fellow soldiers chosen by fate, but best friends—brothers.
I feel like an interloper, but I can’t look away, noting how Lochlan’s not staring at his crystal link, how Holden smiles, how relaxed Daire’s shoulders are. Even Griffin, who is the most comfortable with me, seems more at ease.
All this time, I’ve been focused on how I was impacted by being brought here, but seeing this unobstructed view of them has me realizing they’ve been equally impacted—maybe more so.
I tear my gaze away, not wanting to intrude further, and grab my crystal link. I open the thread to Everett, debating how to tell him I don’t need a ride to Portelina.
Hey. Sorry to bail on you guys, especially last-minute—
“You’re not supposed to be reading,” Kai says, appearing with a tray of colorful fizzy drinks, offering me one.
I take it, abandoning my crystal link. “I was just messaging Everett to let him know I don’t need a ride on Sunday, but I didn’t know what to tell him.”
He shrugs. “Tell him you’re getting a ride with me.”
I scoff.
His lips hook with an amused smile. “Why?” He takes a glass and sits in the seat on my left.
“Um, rule one: deny all association with you. Two: Veronica. Three: Lochlan will kill me. Four: Everett won’t believe me. Five: Holden and Lochlan will bring me back to life and kill me again.”
“A little melodramatic, Witchling?” Lochlan asks from the doorway, far enough away that he shouldn’t be able to hear me clearly without the use of a charm.
“I thought it was rather understated,” I murmur to test my theory.
“That was before Ronan Yuri decided to crawl out of his little hole,” Lochlan says, falling into step alongside the others as they file out of the house with food.
Griffin hands me a plate filled with unfamiliar foods that all smell sweeter than what Gwen usually prepares.
The guys each take a glass from the tray Kai brought and join me around the fire.
I lift the tall glass from my armrest, examining the dark liquid before bringing it to my nose and then taking a small sip.
The flavor is difficult to place, citrusy but also rich like spiced caramel.
I lean forward as the contents change color, turning a pale blue.
My fork nearly falls to the ground, but Kai shoots out a hand, catching it easily.
“What did I just drink?”
“It’s a Portelina tradition,” he tells me, returning my utensil. “The color changes based on your mood.” He turns to the others. “Drink up.”
They do, revealing a myriad of colors.
Lochlan points at Daire’s burgundy glass. “Desire.” Then to Kai’s, which has turned black. “Guarded.” He twists, pointing at Holden’s green liquid. “Uncertainty.” Then at Griffin’s purple glass. “More desire.” Then points at mine. “Nervous.”
“What does orange mean?” I ask, referring to his own glass.
“Annoyed,” he responds without hesitation.
“Or restless,” Daire adds. “It can also stand for impatient.”
“This feels invasive,” I say, setting the glass on the arm of the chair.
Daire chuckles. “Before you abandon it, a toast to a Portelina weekend.” The others raise their glasses, and I reluctantly grab my own, raising it despite every nerve warning that this is a terrible idea.
“To good food and better company,” Griffin says, winking at me before taking a drink, which begins a chain reaction.
Unsurprisingly, my drink doesn’t change, but Kai’s turns gold and Lochlan’s turns red. I don’t ask what either means, turning my attention to my plate of food. Despite my request, they still won’t eat until I do.
An explosion of flavor hits my tongue, sweet as a pineapple, with the spice of chilies, and a hint of nuttiness. I hum, digging for a bigger bite, which is somehow even better than the first.
“Ready to move here and eat like this every day?” Griffin asks.
I nod instantly, reaching for another bite.
“Take a drink,” Daire insists.
I do, watching as the liquid turns a soft pink. I laugh, amazed by the array. “Does pink mean foodgasm?”
Holden splutters and then coughs, forced to take a drink, which—to my shock—turns the same magenta shade Daire’s has remained: desire.
Griffin chuckles. “Close. Pink means joy.”
“Or playful,” Kai adds.
Joy. Playful.
I stare at the alcohol in my glass, biting my bottom lip, memorizing how I feel before setting it down.
“How long have you guys known each other? Did you grow up together?”
“Not in the traditional sense,” Daire says. “But we knew each other before becoming a Vestra.”
Holden nods. “The Vestra didn’t create our friendship. It just formalized it.”
“I’ve known Loch since I was eleven,” Daire tells me. “He was an annoyingly well-mannered kid back then, but he still had that death glare.”
A laugh bubbles out of me. “I know the look you’re referring to.” Far too well.
“Everyone does,” Daire assures me.
“I met Holden first,” Griffin says. “We were both recruited to the Guardians young, and were often paired together since our primary elements are opposing.” He nods to Kai. “Then Kai was recruited after making a tidal wave and was grouped with us as another natural opposition.”
“Later, Loch and I were sent to the same academy,” Daire adds. “But our paths have been crossing our whole lives.”
It seems like another pertinent detail that reaffirms that I’m not a part of their Vestra, considering none of our lives have ever crossed. I take another drink, and the liquid changes from the pretty pink hue to a muddy brown.
Kai’s gaze flickers to my glass but he says nothing.
“Did you always have all the elements, or did that happen when you became a Vestra?” I ask.
“Always,” Daire says. “It’s why we assume we’re a Vestra.”
“Are there others? People with all the elements, I mean.”
“We’re not people. We’re Elementals,” Lochlan says. “And not that there is any record of in recent history. A fair number of Elementals have two elements, but we’ve not heard of anyone having more than three for several hundred years.”
“Until you,” Griffin adds.
“But I don’t have Ground or Water. Some days, I’m not sure I even have Soul.”
“You have Soul,” Lochlan states. “Sometimes, it feels like mudwrestling a banshee to move around your shields. Someone without a Soul Element wouldn’t be able to put up that fight.”
“You mean to break them down,” I correct, arching a brow.
“I said what I meant, Witchling,” Lochlan says, his drink turning a bright shade of orange to reveal he’s still annoyed.
“And you have lavender eyes,” Kai reminds me. “Even if you didn’t have a strong element, Soul would still be your primary.”
“How can you tell if an Elemental has multiple elements if our eyes only reflect our primary?”
“You can’t,” Holden says.
“Thank fuck,” Griffin adds.
Kai chuckles, taking another drink.
The conversation shifts as they relive stories: times when they were adversaries, moments when they worked together, and how they knew they were a Vestra—long before it was confirmed.
That revelation leaves an emptiness in my chest that I try to avoid as I continue eating, wishing I had that same confidence about my place here. Wishing they did.
Things wind down slowly, past when everyone has finished eating. I lean back, taking in each detail, smile, and inside joke, losing all sense of time for the first time since coming to Bryxton.
“We should get some rest,” Griffin says, reaching for my plate.
I want to object and stay lost in this moment longer, hear more stories.
But everyone looks tired and resigned to the night being over.
Daire and Griffin follow me inside, and it takes only a second to realize why the others stayed behind as my arm brushes Daire’s, and my back meets Griffin’s—the smaller house will take effort, or absence, to avoid accidentally making contact.
Once our dishes are cleaned, we head upstairs. My nerves climb higher with each step, realizing I’m about to sleep in a bed with these two men.
“Your bag is that one,” Daire says, pointing at the beige suitcase. “We’ll give you a few minutes to change. Do you need anything? Water?”
I shake my head, questioning where the contents of my closet went when the bag is so small. “I’m good. Thanks.”
Once the door closes behind them, I release a deep breath and dive in to see what Gwen packed for me.
It’s filled with lacy nothings, a few more dresses, bikinis I’ve never touched, and a single set of what I think are pajamas.
I curse Gwen as I pull on the butter-yellow set.
My breasts push against the silk fabric, borderline obscene.
The matching shorts barely cover my underwear.
A soft knock at the door has the panic in my bloodstream doubling as I contemplate diving under the covers so they can’t see me. “You can come in,” I say, giving up all attempts at normalizing this moment. I’m pretty certain even if I did have my usual pajamas, this moment would be awkward.
Daire’s eyes turn molten the moment he steps into the room.
“Remind me never to let Gwen pack for me,” I say.
Griffin runs his teeth over his bottom lip. “I think she deserves a raise.”
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest, which is a mistake—because it only emphasizes my cleavage.
Griffin’s gaze lowers. So does Daire’s.
Neither of them moves, but the air shifts, becoming almost electric.
Daire exhales slowly. “You should sleep.” His voice is rougher than before.
I slowly lower my arms.
A knock on the door has both guys twisting and me looking up in time to see Holden. “Kai’s doing a quick sweep of the perimeter, but—” His gaze races down the front of me as his words fail. “Fucking hell,” he mutters.
Embarrassment coils around my lungs. “Gwen packed for me,” I remind him automatically, voice low, like I’ve been chastised.
Holden’s gaze jumps to mine, and he shakes his head. “No. I—” He clears his throat. “I just wanted you guys to know Kai’s doing the perimeter checks,” he coughs, “in case you heard anything.” He steps back, disappearing out the door, taking a small piece of me that I never meant to give.
Griffin pounces on the bed, flashing a wide, dazzling smile that completely disarms me.
I think of the light pink drink—joy and playfulness—two things that have been foreign and absent for much of my life.
“Even with your naps, we know you’re tired. Come. Sleep.” His voice is a quiet challenge wrapped in an invitation.
I walk to the edge of the bed, which is so big, I have to crawl across it.
Griffin’s eyes track each of my movements.
“Stars,” the muttered word has me looking over my shoulder, catching Daire staring at my backside.
Griffin chuckles, deep and knowing.
Neither of them moves, but it feels like there’s a shift, a recognition of our mutual attraction.
I slip under the covers, the sheets cool and silken against my bare skin, making me shiver.
Daire moves first, reaching to turn off the lights. I hear the soft shuffle of clothes being shed, and then the bed dips slightly. The warmth of him is instant, his presence steady, measured. He snags me around the waist and pulls my back flush against his chest, cocooning me with his larger body.
Griffin wraps his hand around mine, and a deep sense of contentment seeps through me. Suddenly, I’m terrified to fall asleep, terrified this weekend will pass too fast.