Page 86 of Captivating Magic

“Appreciated,” Lo said, then offered Knox his hand to shake.

“Sorry for barging in. Where she goes, I follow.”

“Understood.” And it was. Laszlo had secondhand knowledge of Spring’s story, revolving around her abduction a few years back. Knox had been destroyed when he reached her too late. To keep him from tearing the world apart with his godlike powers, Isis had cut a deal with him, returning Spring to the bosom of the Thornes.

And it was necessary for their family. Spring was their jewel, spreading light and love. With her photographic memory, she was also the primary source of their knowledge. Isis’s compassionate act healed the fracture her death had caused.

As Laszlo was closing the door, another person approached.

Nash. Alastair’s son, similarly to Spring, held a wealth of information in that big brain of his. Lo wished he could retain half of what they managed to do.

“Welcome.”

“Thanks for hosting this shindig.” Nash grinned, and his smile was so like his father, it was easy to see the charming rogue Alastair had been forty years earlier.

“Beer’s in the fridge, and if you want something stronger, the liquor cabinet is on the far wall.”

He, too, sensed the circle wall and glanced upward. “Nice. I don’t know if I’d have considered attaching one to the ceiling.”

“You would’ve in a pinch,” Lo assured him.

Kyrella rose, crossed to Laszlo, and rubbed her massive head against his chest, showing affection and allegiance.

His cousin whistled low and long. “She’s beautiful.”

“Yes. As is her counterpart,” Lo said, stroking the inky fur between her golden eyes. “You can let Ebba return, Ky. She’ll be okay.”

She padded toward the bedroom but stopped to nudge the Aether’s hand.

“Hello, Kyrella,” he said with fondness. “Are you adjusting well?”

“Yes.”

They all froze.

“She can speak?”

Her black head swiveled in Lo’s direction, and he swore she winked.

Narrowing his eyes with promised retribution, he said, “This better not be your way of flirting with that man, Ebba James.”

The wolf’s husky laugh was eerily similar to hers. “As king to all creatures and our magical community, he deserves deference.”

“A talking wolf. Now I’ve seen almost everything,” Castor quipped.

“The actual shift is brutal to watch,” Spencer said with a surly tone. “Forcing her to?—”

“Let me stop you right there.” Damian approached him. “Ebba and Kyrella were given a choice, with the former knowing the painful toll it would extract. She did it willingly so Kyrella would have some semblance of a life.”

“She’s just a dumb animal!” Spencer shouted.

“Watch your tone, Barlowe. You won’t like how I react.” The chill in the Aether’s words raised the hairs on Laszlo’s neck. Even his voice wielded power.

Their staring contest ended with Spencer dropping his gaze and nodding his understanding.

Lo released a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding, and based on the other exhalations, he wasn’t the only one. Only Alastair appeared unfazed.

With an irritated huff, the wolf stalked away.

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