Dezi

Dezi

After Bubbles makes Mo her bitch, I exchange a look with my old friend. He gives a smirk and I realize much like my witchling; the wolf has come into powers far greater than expected. It makes my icy heart glad to know my mate’s sister has completed bonds; it will only protect her on the rest of their journey. Fiadh accepting ours has saved our bacon several times since we left Briarvale, and she would be devastated if she lost her sister.

Plus, she’s the best bartender I’ve had in a long time.

The witchling waited until the fox scuttled away before she gave the other family a demonstration of what she’s learned. Khol is standing near his brother while the cat is sitting with the bear, Feray, and the Prince as our mate closes her eyes to focus. The Prince has been working on command and control with her, so she’s doing exactly as he instructed to call her powers when we’re not in danger.

Her fingers dance with newfound energy as she works to manipulate the elements in front of the families. The air crackles and shifts, a small vortex of wind playing at her command—a mesmerizing display of power that has everyone’s gaze locked on her. But my focus isn’t solely on the spectacle; it’s split, observing not just my woman, but the reactions of her extended family as she shows them what she’s gained since we left.

“Amazing, isn’t it? Just a little magic so far, but it helps her confidence immensely,” Tiernan murmurs, his eyes wide with the same wonder that grips the others.

Feray nods, clapping her hands. “Way to go, Fi! Look at you go…”

I grunt as they watch Fiadh, letting my thoughts shift elsewhere. While it’s certain the combination of her growing powers and some other clashed in order for us to get here, I’m still not totally sure what it’s supposed to achieve. As the others marvel at witchling’s display, I can’t help but brood over the weird shit happening in the supposedly quiet city of Briarvale. More than coincidence brought us all here; it feels deliberate, like a calculated move by someone with inscrutable abilities.

We’re pieces on a chessboard, each move bringing us closer to some unseen endgame. The person responsible for their parents’ death—that’s the king we’re all racing to checkmate.

None of our current situation sits right with me. The conversations are too light, and it’s missing the weight of the information we sent through Ro on her second visit to Faerie. When the other group talked about their travels, their theories, Feray’s development, they didn’t mention the crucial details we sent. If they knew, surely it would be at the forefront of their minds, coloring their every word. It’s not; therefore, they can’t know.

It’s the only explanation that fits, yet it leaves me with more questions.

A frown creases my brow as I lean back against the cool metal of the trailer, arms crossed. This oversight—it’s an itch I can’t scratch, a discordant note in an otherwise harmonious tune. Silence now could mean chaos later, and chaos is the last thing we need when hunting killers. I nod at Diaval, and he nods back in acceptance. When elders grow silent, that’s all we need to say.

Walking across the garden, I make my way to the Prince. I have questions I want to ask, and I’d prefer not to do it around anyone else until my suspicions are confirmed.

“Rev,” I hiss, tugging on the Fae’s sleeve to get his attention away from the spectacle. Revelin looks at me, eyebrows raised in a silent question as I jerk my head towards the back of the trailer. We move away from the group, and once we’re out of earshot, my voice is low but urgent.

“Something’s off with the timeline,” I say without preamble. “They should know about Ro’s message, but they’re acting clueless.”

Revelin’s eyes narrow for a moment before he nods, understanding dawning. “Shit. The peculiarities of extended time in Faerie,” he murmurs, more to himself than to me. He rubs the bridge of his nose. “You’re right. Time here moves differently. It’s like skipping stones across a pond—each touch, a ripple forward.”

“Explain,” I demand, not in the mood for riddles.

This was necessary information, and the Prince was so excited about his rock tour that he didn’t tell us we might have a problem upon return.

“Time in Faerie... it flows faster,” Revelin admits, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Those who stay there, like your friends, they don’t just lose hours—they lose weeks, even months. Since I typically hop back and forth, it doesn’t happen to me. At least, not noticeably…” He trails off, an uncomfortable grimace forming on his face.

“Great,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. “So we’re probably a month ahead of them. If we spill anything now, we could screw up everything.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Revelin’s fingers dance in the air, sketching invisible patterns.

We need to clue in Fi, Tiernan, and Khol without tipping off these others. My mind races. “How did you not prep us for this?”

Revelin looks sheepish, a rare sight for the usually composed Fae. “I didn’t foresee such a convergence. Unexpectedly touching a goblin bowl that becomes a TARDIS, who would expect that? ‘ Spoilers ’ are the last thing we need, but we’re going to have them if we don’t get everyone on the same page soon.”

“Fuck,” I growl. “What happens when we finish this tour? Are we going to sit on our asses waiting for the world to catch up like a cheesy John Mayer song?”

Revelin shrugs helplessly. “I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Of-fucking-course he didn’t. Children, all of them.

“Typical,” I snort. Irresponsible doesn’t cover it. Double-talking tricksy-mouthed Fae, indeed. But there’s no point in chewing him out further; we have to fix this, now.

“We need to go back out there,” I say, squaring my shoulders. “Just…get creative with how we handle this. We have to figure out how to tell our family without tipping off theirs.”

As we rejoin the front, where Feray and her family continue their chatter, I eye Khal and Khol looking at the map of the town and discussing our next move. The weight of my secret knowledge sits heavy on my chest, ready to burst free. We have to play it smart, keep our cards close to the chest until the time is right.

I catch Fi’s gaze and give her a subtle nod, hoping she reads the urgency in my eyes. She looks puzzled, but brings the topic back around to our dual arrival and why we might be here.

Time to tread carefully, or we risk tripping over our own future.

“Quantum leaps seem to be the theme of this trip,” I say, my voice casual as I return to the fold with Revelin, watching Feray’s animated retelling of one of her fights. When she finishes, I glance at Fiadh, noting the slight crease in her brow—a telltale sign that she’s processing more than what meets the eye. “It really shocked me that the object she touched yanked us away in the middle of the important event.”

Feray pauses mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing slightly at the odd reference, while Torben’s frown deepens, his gaze momentarily shifting to me before returning to her sister. The others laugh, brushing off my comment as a quip, but Fi’s eyes lock onto mine, and there’s a flicker of understanding.

“Speaking of unexpected journeys,” Fi interjects with a hint of strain, “we had quite a few plans laid out before our paths crossed here.” Her fingers tap a nervous rhythm on her thigh, betraying her usual composure. She catches Revelin’s eye, and he nods subtly, his expression unreadable.

“I’m certain you did as well. Our theory is that we’re meant to witness or take a ction on something necessary. Like maybe it’s a fixed point in time .”

This time, the bespectacled twin looks at me curiously. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Dr. Who fan, Dezi.”

“Tier, could you be a darling and get me another drink?” Fi’s request hangs awkwardly in the air as she interrupts.

The silence is palpable as Tiernan looks at her, surprise etched on his face, before he masks it with a nod. “Sure, Knuckles,” he says, pushing himself up from his seated position.

They haven’t seen all the changes in her, so this should distract them a bit.

I seize the moment, gesturing to Khol with a tilt of my head, indicating we need to talk privately. He follows my lead without question, stepping away from the group. Once out of earshot, I lean in close.

“Listen, Snakelet,” I whisper urgently, “we’re not all playing the same game here. Time’s got us tangled up—Faerie-time shenanigans. We’re a month ahead of them, and we’ve got to keep our mouths shut about anything that might tip them off.”

Khol’s eyes widen, the gravity of the situation settling in. “Shit,” he breathes out. “That’s not good.”

“Understatement of the century,” I reply grimly. “Head back before we raise more eyebrows. I’ll follow in a moment or two, so it’s less jarring. But stick to the script, and for the love of things that go bump in the night, let nothing slip.”

I return to the group just as Tiernan hands Fi her drink, her fingers brushing his as she takes it. There’s a brief exchange of looks between them, and I hope like hell we’re all able to avoid any time-traveling faux pas until we’re sent back to Faerie.

Fi cradles the glass of whiskey, her fingers steady despite the tremor that had coursed through her only moments before. She clears her throat, and all eyes are on her as she speaks. “We’ve been silos for too long—lone wolves hunting solo. But now,” she pauses, a determined glint sparking in her green eyes, “now we’re syncing up, figuring out how to operate as one pack.”

That should help the shifters accept her seemingly odd behavior toward us now without spoiling things.

Feray nods, her expression softening into a look of approval. She beams at her sister with a pride that’s almost tangible, and Torben chuckles as she lets out a howl that makes us all grin.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Khal teases, his gaze shifting between us to land on his twin. “Too many cooks in the kitchen, so to speak.”

Fi scowls in response, the corners of her mouth twitching downward, but there’s no actual heat behind it. “It’s not so far-fetched,” she retorts, fixing the basilisk with a defiant stare. “I can occasionally let the bloodsucker be in charge. Ask them.”

My old friend the dragon snorts at that, and I shrug, smiling smugly. “She does. Cross my undead heart and hope to… well, that’s about as far as I can go while it still makes sense.”

Fi and the basilisk snicker, then the Prince joins them, taking a seat on the snake’s lap as they decide to be brats together. I glare at them, arching a brow, then look at Tiernan. He’s trying not to smile, meaning he’s the only one even attempting to behave.

“You’ll be sorry…” I mutter.

Khol snorts, but the witchling cuts him off before he helps perpetuate the situation. “We need to get back to the how and why, so we can determine the what. Despite the joy of being reunited, we have other obligations to fulfill. My sister’s energy indicates she also has more tasks ahead.”

“Interesting,” the phoenix says as he looks at Fiadh. “An expansion on the lie detector thing?”

“Maybe?” she says as she sips her whiskey.

The conversation turns inward, circling around the questions that hang heavy in the air. Tiernan and I join them at the tables, crowding in to look at the notes we were making before they showed up.

“What brought us here?” Khol murmurs, his voice low and thoughtful. “We need a list of things with enough power to accomplish that.”

“And why now?” Tiernan adds, brows furrowed with concern. “Another list—what aligns with Samhain that we need to know?”

I feel the weight of the unspoken knowledge press against my chest as we grapple with this puzzle. Our families are pieces scattered by fate, drawn to Briarvale for reasons beyond our comprehension, and finding the missing links in this chain won’t be easy. But as I look around at this mismatched group—united by purpose and bonded by necessity—I sense that, perhaps for the first time, we might just stand a chance.

That is, if we can figure this out without tipping off our enemies or fucking up the flow of time.

No pressure there.