Chapter 8

8

DEVA

Walkingdown these halls felt almost surreal since that last time I’d been here my life had been so different, running to avoid a problem I was now facing head-on. And that wasn’t even including having to meet Grim’s father or anyone else in an official capacity. When I met Circe, Grim’s mom, I hadn’t realized who she was, but now…well, now was far different. I just had to hope that they had absolutely no clue what Grim and I had been up to in their treasure room. I wouldn’t be able to look them in the eye otherwise. I mean, seriously—I wouldn’t normally care, but that wasn’t something you wanted parents to know about.

“Everyone from the organization will be here at the meeting tonight,” Grim said, the five of them walking on all sides of me with him and Alek leading the way. “I would love to say that they won’t ask you questions, little jaguar, and we sure as fuck can tell them not to, but if this meeting is really about taking final action against Astaroth, and we want to be part of it…”

“I want to help,” I agreed.

“You said the entire organization?” Lazaro asked tightly, his hand suddenly catching my own, intertwining our fingers from my right.

“Yes—including your parents and Cage’s parents.”

I came to a dead stop as I felt the breath whoosh out of me, Oz making a concerned noise as his muscular back hit my chest. I blinked at Grim, who turned around to stare at me in slight confusion.

“What did you say?” I asked softly.

“She’s worried about meeting our parents,” Cage translated. Lazaro tilted his head, fascination filling his gaze.

“That idea scares you?” he asked sincerely.

I faltered for a minute before looking down at my boots on the stone flooring. “Scares me…maybe not fully. But I also have never done this. The idea of you having parents honestly throws me for a loop, let alone trying to explain to them what I’m doing here with all of you. Or my past.”

“It will probably be my brothers instead of my parents,” Cage offered helpfully. “And probably not all nine of them.”

Holy shit. Nine brothers? That…that was a lot.

“We should just go,” I said with determination rising in my voice. “I am not going to chicken out, but the longer I sit around thinking about this, the worse it will be in my head.”

Oz squeezed my hip in comfort as we continued forward, Lazaro seemingly trapped in thought. I didn’t blame him. I knew the man had a bit of a fascination in what scared me and what didn’t…I also never questioned where the man’s mind went because it was so damn convoluted.

“Here we are.” Grim threw open a set of doors, and immediately I knew that I was about to feel horribly overwhelmed. This wasn’t even everyone. A quick glance told me it couldn’t be more than fifteen people, but my instincts were telling me they were all related to my men.

All in the same room.

No fucking pressure.

“Grimshaw, glad you could join us,” said a man that shared the same dark eyes as my shadow witch, causing the entire room to focus on us.

“Resting up,” he explained easily, looking around the room. “Seems everyone important is here.”

“Are you feeling better?” Circe asked me, stepping away from the conversation she’d been having with another woman. I was thankful, because I was able to focus on the familiar face instead of the growing silence around me. Grim’s mom had changed clothes, now dressed in a black gown that enhanced her elegant frame and had me feeling terribly underdressed.

“Was she injured?” the other woman asked. She had a very soft pair of maroon-shaded eyes. There were so many little details I was noticing all at once, and it was more than a bit overwhelming.

“Yes, Astaroth attacked them right out of the portal, trying to get a hold of her.” The first man spoke clearly, his gaze focused fully on me. I was nearly positive it was Grim’s dad, but I wasn’t totally sure.

“And who is she, exactly?”

That was a voice. My gaze snapped to the far side of the room where a woman stood looking…well, I really didn’t have a word for her. Beautiful. Overpowered as fuck. Luminescent. Related to Lazaro—his mom, if I had to guess. They had very similar features, her eyes and hair were the exact same shade as Lazaro’s except for the silver running throughout her waist-length locks.

“This is Deva, mother,” Lazaro said, his gaze filled with caution as he ran a hand over my back. I briefly noticed that Oz and Alek were being far more quiet overall, but Cage’s chuckle was a familiar one, telling me that he found this situation authentically amusing.

“She knew that,” Cage mused. “They all know who she is.”

I completely believed that.

“But who is she to you?” another man, who stood near Grim’s father’s desk, asked. His rigid posture and golden skin marked with lunar runes was similar to Lazaro as well.

“Well that’s easy,” Grim answered confidently. My eyes widened, knowing what he was probably about to say. “Deva is ours.”

Subtle…subtle was just not a thing with these men. I should have known by now.

I didn’t know what reaction to expect from Grim’s words, but the man I assumed was his dad laughing, literally chuckling—was better than nothing. With that, Grim led me forward to meet the man in question as the room broke into a larger conversation, Oz following with us but the others splitting off throughout the dark, cozy office.

“Figured it was better to clear the air,” Grimshaw explained as we neared his father, whose dark eyes warmed on his son and then on me. “Dad, you know Oz, and this is Deva. Mom met her earlier when she grabbed us from Garnet Hall.”

“Deva, please call me Phelan. It’s wonderful to meet you.” Grim’s dad put out his hand and I met it easily, feeling his shadow magic instantly spark through the space. I nearly shook my head, wondering if maybe taking Astaroth down a notch or two was possible…I mean, the power these people had was insane.

“Thank you for letting us come here after leaving campus,” I said a bit easier than I expected. “And for the help at Garnet Hall.”

“Of course,” he said as I dropped his hand. Grim pulled me further into his side, Oz’s hand sliding along my upper back in comfort. “We can’t let that stand, especially when he’s targeting our own family. They’ve crossed far too many boundaries lately, but this one was egregious, even for them.”

“Makes you wonder why,” Lazaro’s father said, joining our conversation. I could see the caution and indifference in his gaze, making me wish Lazaro was with us instead of by his mom, but I also had to hope that the arrogant attitude was surface level.

“Because he wants me back,” I answered candidly. “Because I was his prisoner for years, and he wants me back. That’s why.”

Surprise flickered in his gaze. He hadn’t expected honesty. “Why though?”

“Because I’m powerful? I’m not sure—he isn’t the most logical individual,” I countered, trying to not sound disrespectful but also finding the man off-putting. Grim’s humor at my reply was evident though, giving me the feeling that not a lot of people talked so directly to Lazaros’s father like this.

“You aren’t wrong.” His gaze darkened as he tilted his head. “You’re a lunar witch?”

“Fates, Bore, what the hell else do you want to ask the girl? This isn’t an inquisition.” A third man suddenly appeared looking annoyed, despite a smile playing on his lips.

“It’s Hellebore,” Lazaro’s father corrected, “and I want to know who exactly my son has decided to spend his time with.”

I felt my spine stiffen as Oz tensed, and Grim’s father was no longer amused. “You’re welcome to leave if you’re going to be rude,” he said, lounging back in his leather chair. Hellebore’s jaw clenched as he shook his head and turned, without a word, leaving to go to Lazaro and his wife—the two in an intense, heated discussion that left my chest feeling tight and uncomfortable.

“He’s always been such an asshole,” the third man said with amused annoyance, reaching over to grasp my hand that I barely had time to put out. “Don’t worry, Deva, you’re more than welcome here. Hellebore just has a stick up his ass.”

Cage’s father. I saw that now. He had more fine lines than I would have expected, and his brown hair had gray at the temples, but his bright red eyes and magical signature, along with his reckless smile, were exactly what I should have expected.

“Thanks,” I offered, unable to help myself from smiling.

He flashed a big smile and called out. “Honey, come here⁠—”

The woman from before appeared, her warm red gaze running over me with a softness I hadn’t expected.

“I was just meeting Deva⁠—”

“You can call me Idra.” She immediately tugged me into a hug that surprised me. “It’s absolutely wonderful to meet you. I hope that Bore didn’t scare you away⁠—”

“No, he can’t scare anyone,” Cage’s dad called out loudly, earning him a scowl from the man in question.

“You’re going to start a fight, Leandor.” Phelan shook his head in amusement.

“Have you had anything to eat yet?” Idra asked suddenly, leading me from the boys and towards Circe, who was talking to a young woman that looked a lot like herself, but maybe in her late teens. Her dark hair was plaited down to her waist and she was wearing a dark navy dress and heeled boots, her eyes a deep navy that was filled with interest at whatever Circe was saying.

“Yes—”

“We have food coming, and even more later.” Circe turned to offer me a smile of greeting. “Deva, I’m so glad you were able to escape the cloud of masculinity over there. I want you to meet Grim’s cousin Artemia, daughter of Phelan’s sister.”

“You can call me, Art,” she said, a blast of shadow magic rolling over me as she met my hand. “It’s great to meet you.”

“She’s one of the younger members of the organization,” Idra explained. The sudden sound of Cage’s laughter had both of us looking over to where he and his father were talking to Lazaro’s dad…which spelled trouble. With a curse, Idra was over there, leaving me with Art and Circe.

“This is going to be a mess tonight,” Circe sighed. “Art, if you’ll excuse us, I’m going to bring Deva around to introduce everyone.”

“Sure. Lycidas looks bored,” she mused and walked over towards a man that looked very similar to her, who was focused on something outside.

“Phelan’s sister Edana is on her way. She’s one of his closest siblings and a huge help to everything we do. Lycidas and Art are her children,” Circe explained, hooking our arms. “Of course you met Cage’s parents, Idra and Leandor. His brothers will be arriving tonight as well, or at least most of them.”

As we walked, my gaze snagged on Oz and Alek talking quietly while looking over a bookcase. I had to wonder how they felt about all of this, but I was being led across the room and I had an idea of what introduction would come next.

“And of course you’ve now met Hellebore, and this—” Circe led me to a stop in front of Lazaro and his mom, the confident, gorgeous woman’s gaze hyper-focused on me. It wasn’t as critical as I would have assumed, but something did seem to be bothering her.

“Ketura.” Her voice had the faintest hint of an accent that I couldn’t identify, and the way she looked over me was as if she was searching for something. “And you are the girl my Lazaro has chosen?”

Oh fates.

Circe sighed. “Always so incredibly blunt. Tell me, Lazaro, was that fun growing up?”

Lazaro’s gaze held the faintest hint of amusement before he looked down at me, his expression morphing to concern as if he could see how overwhelmed I was. I’d hoped I was hiding it better than that…then again, it was possible he was feeling it through our bond. That was my hope, at least.

“Yes, Deva is ours,” Lazaro said firmly, his tone filled with surety that had me nearly smiling.

“What are you?”

Ketura’s question threw me, and I realized that what was bothering her was the fact that she could sense my magic and didn’t understand it.

“I’m not sure how to explain that,” I answered honestly, and her gaze filled with curiosity.

Circe seemed to think that was the time to step in. “I think this conversation can be saved for later,” she suggested.

When the door suddenly opened and our gazes all moved to the entrance, surprise radiated through me at the individual standing there. Not because I had any idea of who she was, but because of how unique looking she was.

Her hair was dark naturally, that much was clear, but the ends were dyed a vibrant blue and pulled into four ponytails stacked one on top of another, matching her nearly silver blue eyes. She was wearing an all leather outfit and had a harshness to her expression that suggested she was absolutely no-nonsense—until she smiled at Lycidas and Art.

“Mom!” Art nearly ran into her arms as I put together that this was Grim’s aunt.

“Told you I would make it back,” Edana, if I remembered correctly, teased. “Circe, you have a lot more guests than you probably realize. If you want to get this meeting started, it may be time.”

“Crap, I should’ve been keeping an eye on the time,” Circe murmured. “Well, no time like the present. Deva, you ready?”

Was I ready…I had absolutely no idea what to even be ready for.

When Alek suddenly appeared by my side and captured my hand, running his lips over it, I couldn’t help but relax. I wasn’t positive if I was actually ready, but I had to remember that these men were here, and at the end of the day we were all after one thing.

Getting rid of Astaroth.

Something I had a feeling was a true possibility now.