Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Hale laughed. “I did. I really freaking did. I can control the wind.”
Grey’s smile was surprisingly huge as Hale continued to direct the wind here and there across the field, creating little eddies that twirled up bits of leaves and dirt before rushing back to encircle him and Grey. Magic. This was pure magic, and he was doing it.
“That is an excellent start. I’m curious as to what you could create with Calder—”
“Hurricane!” Hale shouted.
“Or Lucien,” Grey finished.
“Fire-nado! No, wait! We get Baer to turn into a shark—”
“Don’t!” Grey ordered, but Hale ignored him.
“And we make our own Sharknado!”
“I’m out,” Grey grumbled as he shoved to his feet. Hale’s laughter echoed across the field as the Soul Weaver headed toward the house.
Hale still had a lot to figure out when it came to his powers and his place among the Weavers, but learning how to control the wind definitely opened up a few new avenues for him to explore. It was a shame the Soul Weaver had decided he’d had enough so soon. It would have been nice to ask him if he thought Hale had a shot at finding his soul mate while they were on the road.
The wind cavorted back to him and wrapped around his body as though it were hugging him. Except he was the one controlling the wind, right? He snorted at himself. Soul mates were a nice idea, but did he need one? It wasn’t like he was lonely, right?
Chapter
Six
Loud laughter echoed throughout the kitchen, and the smell of fried chicken thickened the air. It was a large, gorgeous kitchen with an exposed red brick wall and silver appliances. The stove had a huge, metal hood, the cabinets finished in a shiny, dark tone.
Harrison stood next to the island, his gaze going from one man to the next as they told stories about their escapades with magic and battles with the pestilents. The stories seemed to be getting wilder with each one.
“Remember when Lucien set all the patio furniture on fire?” Baer laughed. “Calder wasn’t outside, and we had to throw everything into the pool.”
“Remember when you turned into a deer and a mountain lion tried to take a chunk out of your ass?” Lucien aimed a long finger at Baer before turning back to the mixer he was using to make mashed potatoes.
“At least I haven’t set any buildings on fire,” Baer said in response to Lucien ribbing him.
Wiley gave his man an adorable glare. “You can’t complain about anyone, Baer. Not when you made a mouse crawl up under my pant leg just yesterday.”
Baer snagged Wiley around the waist and nuzzled into his neck, growling and biting. “That was so funny. You jumped like crazy. I had no idea your voice could be so high-pitched.”
“You’re lucky I love you so much,” Wiley grouched as he tilted his head to give Baer more access. He closed his eyes, laughing.
They weren’t the only couple showing affection. Clay had his hand on his husband’s cheek as he whispered something. Dane leaned forward and gave him a lingering kiss. Gio watched his mates as they cooked, love in his eyes. Grey and Cort were on the couch not too far away, wrapped up in each other.
These men had so much to live for. They needed to be kept safe. His gaze slid over to Hale, who sat at the small, kitchen table nursing a beer. He’d pulled his hair back into a short tail, but wispy blond strands had escaped. He studied the man, taking in his good looks—he was almost too handsome, bordering on pretty. He had narrow features and a soft mouth, big sky-blue eyes.
Hale met his look and smiled at him, then lifted his beer in a toast. Harrison lifted his own in response. Something about the Air Weaver interested him, though he didn’t know what it was. He was like a question that was begging for an answer. A stray puzzle piece that hadn’t been popped into place yet. And Harrison abhorred chaos and disorder.
“Food’s ready!” Calder called out as he set a huge bowl of fried chicken on the island. “Good old-fashioned fatty food. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and peas. It’s my grandmother’s recipe. I thought you’d all enjoy it as a last meal here in the house.”
“Don’t go using words like ‘last meal,’ ” Wiley chided him. “That’s kind of the last thing we need to hear right now.”
The mood in the room instantly dimmed before there was something like a collective sigh as the men began filling their plates. They took the food into the dining room and settled around the table, Harrison seated next to Hale. Harrison took a bite of his chicken leg and closed his eyes at the perfect battered perfection. He didn’t often eat fried foods, so this was a treat. The mashed potatoes were creamy and buttery, and the country gravy was heavy on the pepper.