“Knight? Cade?” I rumbled drowsily. “What are you doing in my room?”

“We’re not in your room, Grace,” Cade said dryly, but his touch was gentle as he moved his fingers to mine and clasped them tightly in his grip. “We’re someplace… well, else.”

I frowned at that, brow puckering until I felt Cade’s other hand tracing the lines and tutting. “Where’s that? Are we in the totem circle?” It felt a little brisker than usual, now that I came to think of it. Neither warm, nor cold, but definitely not stuffy like we were inside.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart,” Knight rasped, and I wondered if he knew how much of an open book he was to me—I heard every single emotion he was trying to conceal within that four-word request. Desperation, concern, unease.

“My head hurts,” I whimpered, hating how pathetic I sounded even if that was exactly how I felt.

He moved then, rubbing my temples with a gentleness that you’d never think a guy of his size was capable of, and when the ache abated some, not entirely, I peered out of slitted eyes to look up at my mates.

They were staring down at me, worry etched into their handsome features.

Unbidden, another smile creased my lips as I took pleasure in looking at them. They were so alike yet so different. Kin but not. I knew that was down to Kimball, whose heritage made Cade more of an All Korean-American boy, but they both entranced me.

Knight with his clear eyes that saw more than he let on, the stubborn jaw that felt like marble beneath my fingers whenever I traced the growth of his stubble against my fingertips. Cade with his silky hair that was both fine and abundant, usually sticking up in odd places from his messing with it, the skin that was like a vat of melted vanilla ice cream mixed with just a hint of espresso.

They shared the maternal nose which was distinctly Roman, and high cheekbones that made them both look like models who worked part-time as made men in the mafia. Each of them appeared far older than their years, and I wasn’t about to complain because when you had guys this fine tied to you by a Goddess, it was worth kissing her feet.

Not just one hunk, but two. And I’d seen pictures of Daniel, had even met him once a long time ago and had faint memories of him. Too faint for my liking, but still, they were there. He reminded me of that IG model Mike Chabot, only a lot younger, and without the tattoos.

Or, maybe by now, he’d have tattoos…

Okay, with a headache like this, I really needed not to be salivating over a mate I didn’t even really remember.

Cade broke into my thoughts by pressing a kiss to my temple, and I breathed him in, loving his scent, loving how both of them made me feel.

Protected. Cherished. Loved.

Whole.

I knew, having lost my parents when I had, that I had insecurities that were only natural for someone who was an orphan, but they had been there. Always. They’d never not been there to fill in the holes in my world.

Now I just needed them to fill my holes.

Yeah, I was only eighteen, but damn, I was so beyond ready for my birthday.

“You’ve been unconscious for about three hours,” Cade informed me softly, his voice low, pitched so that he wouldn’t cause me any pain.

I’d say he was treating me like a baby, but in all honesty, we each of us had our ways of dealing with one another.

When Knight was stressed, his room got messy. To the point where you couldn’t walk in without wading past a ton of dirty clothes and school books that were strewn around the place. I wasn’t his housekeeper, but I always went in and sorted things out for him because, ironically, the clutter added to his stress.

Every Friday, when Cade went back to the Choi packhouse to visit with his grandparents, he always forgot to eat, so I made sure he had a sandwich before he left. Visiting them made him nervous, had done ever since the massive meltdown of an argument that was of Chernobyl-like proportions between his folks and them.

We all looked after each other, like we were a miniature pack of our own.

The notion, silly though it was, eased the ache in my head.

No matter what, we’d stand together.

When I managed to open my eyes, I stared straight into Knight’s. There was concern in his, fear, and… guilt?

Perturbed, I asked, “What’s wrong?”

He blinked. “Nothing.”

Cade cleared his throat, which drew my attention to him. “I’m going to guess that you don’t remember last night?” Knight stilled, but when I shook my head, he shot me a rueful smile. “Always the trouble-maker, but you never remember how it was done.”

Sheepishly, I retorted, “I don’t do it on purpose.”

Somehow, though he was the youngest of us, Cade was infinitely older. It was like being told off by a parent sometimes.

“No, that’s why we forgive you,” he said wryly, leaning down to kiss me again.

Ugh, I hated that the kiss soothed some of my pique. Unruffled my feathers, and had me relaxing some.

I hated when he was cross with me.

“What happened?”

“I woke up and watched you head out of the house with a book in your hand,” Knight rushed to tell me. “Cade followed, and you led us to the forest. When we made it to the totem circle, things…well, changed. We were brought here.”

“Brought where?” I rasped, disconcerted by his explanation.

It wasn’t like the totem was a wardrobe that led to Narnia, for Mother’s sake.

“Nevaehai,” Cade murmured softly, and the mere whisper had gooseflesh popping up and down the length of my spine.

I knew that name, even as I didn’t know how I knew it.

More than that, it wasn’t just something I’d overheard or picked up on. Like accidentally hearing the name of someone you’d never met but remembering it because they were the son of someone you did know. I knew it.

Like he was calling this place Spain.

Unable to bear lying down much longer, I carefully sat up, and when I felt about ninety, I winced. Reaching around to rub my back, my fingers tangled with Knight’s for a second as he started to touch me where it was aching.

How did they always know this stuff?

The question, of course, was rhetorical because I knew where his aches were as well.

Whenever that old football injury he had flared up, I always knew it. Not just because he was a grumpy bastard too.

“Why do I know that name?”

“Because you brought us here. You were reading a book…” Knight released a long, low exhalation. “It was incredible, Grace. If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I’d never have believed it.”

Surprised because very little impressed Knight—he was going through an annoying phase—I turned to him and said, “I think you’d best tell me everything, hadn’t you?”

He shrugged, but did as I asked, and with each revelation, my eyes popped open wider and wider and the ache in my head grew fiercer.

When he spoke of the book disappearing into me, I peered down, trying to find the tattoo they were talking about, and seeing it, I started to feel woozy.

Magic didn’t exist.

It didn’t.

Couldn’t.

But…

I reached up and touched the lines that formed a book that were etched into my skin like they’d been there since I was born. Not like it was a fresh tattoo, but just as if it was a birth mark or something.