by Sadie Moss
When Linda returns to take Dmitri and Roman to their rooms, Asher shows me to the room he shares with Cam.
“In San Francisco, with thirteen kids, we had to share,” he explains. “They just don’t make houses that big here. By the time I was born, my oldest brothers were out of the house, but there were still times we had to make do.”
His room is painted a calming light blue color, with two large beds on either side against the wall and space in between. There’s a big window with an amazing view, and it feels like the ocean outside is bleeding into the walls inside, creating a relaxing, open feeling.
“This wasn’t my room growing up,” Asher says. “We’d shuffle rooms every few years as my brothers got older and moved out or had different needs. But now that they’re all gone, I picked this one as mine. The color soothes me, with the whole…” He taps his temple.
Ah, makes sense. “So there are colors that are more soothing to you than others?”
Asher nods. “Every power’s got a downside. Mine makes me kind of… easily overstimulated. Of course, with the cuff on it wasn’t an issue, and it’s not so bad now that I know how to control my magic better. But it still helps. Reds are annoying and loud, overstimulating. Blues and greens are better.”
Cam dumps his stuff on the bed as a clattering sound erupts from downstairs, followed by a loud, “Asher! Where are you, you little shit?”
I have never heard Asher described as a “little shit”, since in our group that role is usually filled by Cam or Dmitri, but this must be one or several of his brothers.
Asher winks at me, then leaves the room. “What do you want?” he bellows, and I hear him going downstairs.
“Asher’s the quiet one,” Cam tells me with a lopsided grin. “But he’s also the baby, so he got this weird mix of… being spoiled and being forgotten, with how crazy everyone else is.”
“Makes sense.” I cross toward where he sits on Asher’s bed. “How was it for you? Joining him for holidays and stuff?”
He shrugs. “Oh, you know. Weird at first. I came from nothing, and suddenly I’m in this big fancy house, and people are buying me nice presents when I can’t afford to give them anything in return. I worried that I was some kind of hanger-on, you know? That I was taking advantage of them.”
I sink down onto the bed next to him, and he rests a hand on my knee, his thumb tracing idle circles as his gaze goes a little out of focus.
“Even before my parents died, it was just me. I didn’t even have any cousins. That’s why I was so alone after they died; there were no close relatives to take me in. Then, bam, I’m in this home with thirteen other guys, and a lot of them have spouses or at least someone they’re dating, so those people are here too, and it was pretty overwhelming.”
I shake my head, blowing out a breath. “God, I can imagine. It sounds intense.”
“But after some time, I got used to it. I started to see that they didn’t want anything from me, that they’re just good, generous people who wanted me to be happy and feel included.” Cam smiles. “They don’t just feel sorry for me—they really like me.”
“His mom seems to be fine with the whole… you know…” I gesture between the two of us.
“Oh, the dating multiple people thing? Yeah, I mean, Asher’s got two gay brothers, and another brother of his brings a new girl home every month. His parents are used to the unconventional, and honestly, I think they’d rather Asher be with someone who is honestly and openly with multiple people in a committed relationship than someone who’s always hooking up and got a new partner all the time, you know?”
“When did Asher tell them? What did he tell them?”
“That we fought for your honor and it was a draw,” Cam says, deadpan. Then he cracks a grin. “Nah. Asher explained that all of us liked you, and instead of fighting over you, we agreed to ask if you’d be open to being with all of us. And you said yes.”
“What about… I mean, we’re not thinking about marriage or kids yet, but…”
“Look, Asher’s parents grew up raising thirteen kids. They didn’t raise all those kids on their own. The older siblings helped raise the younger siblings—Asher’s oldest brother was sixteen when Asher was born. His folks know it takes a village sometimes. They had friends and neighbors helping them out. The way I see it, they’ll probably think it’s a good thing, if we do have kids, that more people will be on hand to help with everything.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way. I like that.”
A little bubble of warmth fills my chest as I lean in and kiss Cam. I don’t want kids anytime soon, but I can’t deny I’ve started to think about these things as my relationship with the guys has gotten more serious.
Roman doesn’t have family. Neither does Cam, and Dmitri has cut all ties with his, but Asher’s close with his family. He loves them, and they love him. I would hate to put him in an awkward or painful position because of me, because of the way we’ve all decided to be together.
Looks like I don’t have to worry about that anymore.
“Kids!” Linda’s voice rises up from downstairs. Damn, the woman’s got a hell of a voice on her. “Dinner’s almost ready!”
I want to protest that I’m far from a kid, but then, her oldest son is just over forty, so we must seem incredibly young to her.
We all troop downstairs, where I see Asher, his father, and three of his brothers hanging out in the living room. They seem to be discussing something seriously.
Asher looks up as we enter. Through the large arched doorway, I see that Roman, Justin, and Maddy are helping Linda with setting the table and finishing preparing the meal.
“We’re talking about the situation with Agustin,” Asher explains.
“It’s all very sudden,” his father tells us. “Everyone’s frightened and unsure what to do.”
“At first, people were blaming the Unpredictables for Agustin’s rise,” says one of Asher’s brothers. Aiden, I think. I’m going to be honest, I’m terrible with names, and I can’t quite remember who’s who. Luckily, it hasn’t been an issue yet, but if we’re going to be staying here for a few days, I should probably get Cam to quiz me on them so I don’t fuck it up and hurt anyone’s feelings.
“That stopped fairly quickly though,” Mr. Prince says. His name is Nicholas, but I haven’t quite gotten to the point of calling him that yet. “All these new regulations, about potions and charms and all that—people don’t like them. They see the writing on the wall now.”
“Now that it’s coming for them,” I point out, trying not to let too much bitterness seep into my voice.
Asher’s father nods in agreement. “Exactly. But I suppose it’s better late than never. They’re coming around. People are talking secretively about going against Agustin’s directives, hiding enchantments and potions, starting a black market.” Then he looks over at Dmitri, shaking his head. “Your parents are getting a lot of shit, son. Pardon my language.”
Dmitri’s been hovering at the periphery of the conversation, listening but not actively joining in. I can tell he’s still getting used to a family as loud, loving, and boisterous as this one—I’m sure it’s nothing like what he grew up with.
He raises his eyebrows at that though, stepping forward. “Oh?”
“Don’t sugarcoat it on his account, Dad,” Asher assures him.
Mr. Prince sighs. “Well, people are condemning the Mikhailovs for being too anti-Unpredictable. We run in the same circles, from time to time. Money and power and all that. A couple of my sons have to deal with them regularly. And they’ve used their influence to get a lot of other people to turn against Unpredictables as well. Everyone follows the trendsetters.”
Dmitri’s jaw clenches, his body stiffening as he absorbs that information, and I have a sudden memory of what he told us in the car as we drove around searching for leads the day we found Agustin—that he was afraid his parents had been behind the movement to shut down Griffin Academy.
It’s not D
mitri’s fault his parents are assholes though. He didn’t make them that way.
Mr. Prince leans forward a little, resting his elbows on his knees. “Now people are starting to see that Agustin is the real problem and that they were being duped all along. Nobody wants to admit that someone appealed to their worst urges and that it worked, so they’re putting blame on a few key families. I can’t say that I feel all that bad for the Mikhailovs, honestly, but I’m not sure how productive it is.”
Productive or not, I have to work hard to keep a vengeful smile off my face. Ha. You bully your own son? This is what you get.
“And the way your parents treated you doesn’t help their case either, with the marriage and all,” Mr. Prince finishes, looking at Dmitri. “Everyone’s heard about that. Pretty damning on top of all the rest. You’ve got a lot of sympathy, a lot of people in your corner.”
Dmitri blinks. He looks simultaneously grateful and like someone smacked him in the face with a frying pan. I don’t think he ever expected anyone outside of our little group to take his side or to even really care about him once the excitement of hijacking his own wedding had died down.
Now he’s learning that people he’s never even met before care about him and think he was wronged. I think that’s pretty big.
I also think it’s the least his parents deserve after the bullshit they put him through, not just with the wedding but for his entire life. Dmitri deserved a better family.
A few minutes later, Linda calls us into the dining room for dinner. As we eat, we discuss the Unpredictable situation some more, as well as other topics like whether Asher’s fifth brother is going to finally get the guts up to propose to his girlfriend or if they’re all going to have to suffer through another year of his cold feet. Lighthearted stuff, family stuff, not end-of-the-world stuff.
It feels a little odd to be talking about anything but our impending doom, but it feels necessary too. Like we need it to keep us all from going crazy.
Afterward, I volunteer for dish duty and end up in the kitchen with Linda.
I can’t stop glancing at her out of the corner of my eye. I know Cam said she was fine with our whole sharing thing, and she seems to be on the outside, but… is she really? She could be putting up a front just to keep the peace, just because there’s a bigger issue at hand here besides her son’s relationship choices.
“So, Elliot,” Linda says, and my stomach tightens. “How are things? Between you and the men?”
I think my spit is trying to strangle me. I can’t seem to swallow.
“Um. Things are—uh, they’re good. Well, they’re not good, what with Agustin and all, but that’s a whole separate… I mean, things between all of us are…”
I trail off. Oh, good lord. Come on, Elliot, get it together.
Squaring my shoulders and shoving down the nervousness that’s trying to turn my stomach inside out, I force myself to face her fully.
“Mrs. Prince. Linda. Cam said you know what’s up with the five of us, and I just want to be sure you’re actually okay with all of this. With us.”
Linda stops drying the dishes and turns to look at me. “Oh, Elliot. As long as you’re all communicating and open with each other, that’s all that matters.”
“You’re sure?”
She laughs. “I’ve raised thirteen men. Fourteen if you count Cam. They come in all shapes and sizes. You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff that they’ve gotten up to. The relationships they’ve had, the crazy stories, the trips, the mishaps. If you’re all happy, that’s what matters to me. Besides, this gives me more of an excuse to start mothering Dmitri and Roman. All those poor men without proper mothers. Breaks my heart.” Linda makes a tsk noise with her tongue. “I’ll just have to start calling them my sons-in-law, and they’re going to have to put up with it.”
She winks at me and goes back to grab another dish, and I feel an overwhelming emotion well up in my chest faster than I can tamp it down.
To my own shock, I grab her and hug her.
“Oh!” Linda jumps a little, startled, but then hugs me back. “Oh my dear, it’s all right. Really. We’re just glad you make our boy happy.”
Fuck, I’m tearing up a little. I don’t think I realized just how much I wanted the approval of Asher’s family—especially after the disaster that is Dmitri’s family—until right this second. And to know that this woman, this wonderful woman, looks at my three other men and sees the good in them and wants to pretty much adopt them, and I know that all three of them deserve a proper parent…
It’s a lot, that’s all.
And maybe, just maybe, I’m missing my own mom a bit. My mom, who would hug me and tell me it was going to be okay if she were here right now. Who would assure me it would all work out, even as everything in our society is literally going to shit.
Linda hugs me tightly and pats me on the back, and I compose myself and pull away. I’m not going to cry forever on this poor woman’s shoulder.
“I’m glad,” I tell her honestly, when I can speak without my voice cracking. “Asher loves you guys so much. I’m glad and… and grateful that you guys are welcoming us into your family.”
“Well, of course,” Linda replies, smiling. Then her gaze slides past me to focus on something over my shoulder, and her grin widens as she shakes her head. “You can stop lurking, honey.”
Chapter 10
I turn around and see Asher lingering by the doorway while also trying very hard to look like he’s not lingering by the doorway.
I raise my eyebrow. “Eavesdropping?”
He blushes. “No. Nothing like that. I just wanted to make sure everyone was… getting along?”
“We’re good,” his mom assures him with a light laugh. “Off you go, you two, I can handle the dishes from here.”
Asher doesn’t waste a second. He takes my hand and drags me away before I can even protest against leaving Linda to finish everything.
We pass through the dining room, where everyone’s now relaxing and chatting. Maddy’s fitting right in, and all of Asher’s brothers and his father are looking at her with these besotted looks on their faces like she’s the cutest little kitten they’ve ever seen.
She tends to have that effect on people.
“Where are we going?” I ask as Asher leads me upstairs.
“I want to show you something.”
“What is it?”
“You’ll see,” is his cryptic response.
He takes me all the way up to the top floor, and then up even farther, to the attic.
It’s not what I would’ve expected an attic to look like.
It’s not filled with boxes or being used to store old furniture. Instead, it’s a light, airy room, with a small bed, a couple beanbag chairs, and some posters tacked to the slanted wall.
“This was my childhood bedroom,” he explains. “The one I started out in.”
“It’s amazing,” I tell him, swiveling my head to take in the space. “This is so cool!”
“A little hard to access the rest of the house from all the way up here, so I’m down there now, but yeah. I wanted to show it to you.”
It’s such a little thing, but it’s another piece of Asher, another piece of his past, and I’m feeling a lot of emotions right now—of family, of home, of all of that—and I can’t help myself. I lean in, resting my hands on his chest, and kiss him softly.
“What was that for?” he whispers, his voice soft but amused.
I shrug. “Nothing. Everything.” I lean in and kiss him again, and Asher, well, he’s far from complaining.
He wraps his arms around me and kisses me back, light and sweet at first. But the longer we kiss, the deeper it gets.
Kissing Asher always makes me forget the rest of the world exists. It’s like falling down a well, but in the best way. Even in the midst of everything going on, with Unpredictables in hiding and a madman attempting to take over magical society, Asher somehow manages to make me feel safe. Hopeful.
Our kiss is slow and deep, and I’m so lost in it that I barely notice my feet moving until the backs of my legs hit the small bed in the middle of the room. I fall backward onto the mattress, and Asher comes with me, laying me down gently and crawling up with me as I scoot backward, bringing us to the middle of the bed.
He draws away slightly, and I gaze up at him, running my hands over the lean, defined muscles of his back, slipping them under his shirt to graze his warm skin.
“Did you ever bring girls up here?” I murmur, biting my lip.
“No.” He shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. “I moved out of this room when I was twelve, and at that point, I thought all girls had cooties.”
I laugh too, skating my fingertips over his sides where I know he’s ticklish, making him squirm even as his hardening cock grinds against me.
“Do you still think girls have cooties?”
He pretends to think about it, his green eyes shining with warmth and desire. “Nah. I might’ve been wrong about that.”
My hands move higher up his back, pulling him closer, my touch turning from playful and light to hungry and exploratory.
“You have a girl in your room right now, you know.”
I can feel his weight between my thighs, his cock fully hard now and straining against his pants, bumping against my clit as he rocks slowly against me.
“I know,” he whispers.
A lock of shaggy brown hair falls over his forehead as he brings his face a little closer to mine. I can smell chocolate on his breath from the cookies his mom put out after dinner, and it mingles with the citrus scent that I’ve come to associate purely with Asher.
“Yeah? So, what are you gonna do about it, do you think?” I ask.
I catch a wicked, amused glint in his eyes a second before he drops his head to kiss me again.
“This,” he answers, barely pulling his lips away from mine long enough to say the word.
We roll around on the bed, kissing and groping each other, sliding our hands underneath clothes and over bare skin. The bed is small, the mattress a little soft, and somehow, kissing Asher like this makes me feel like we’ve gone back in time. Like we’re two teenagers who snuck up here where our parents would never find us, desperate to get our hands on each other after being good all evening.