Max walks with me downstairs in uncomfortable silence. I’ve never been good at striking up a random conversation, especially when it’s pretty clear he doesn’t want to talk to me. So, I let the silence be until we enter the kitchen, where a sixty-something-year-old woman with grey hair and glasses is busy cooking away. Her smile is bright and welcoming, along with the scent of waffles flowing through the air.

“You must be Sky,” she greets me. She’s standing near a waffle maker on the kitchen island’s counter. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

I adjust the handle of my backpack higher onto my shoulder. “You’re Charlotte, right?”

Her smile brightens. “The one and only cook extraordinaire.”

I smile, but inside I feel miserable after hearing the news about Grey. Sure, he’s an asshole and maybe deserved what happened, but him having to go to the hospital because he kissed me only cements the fact that I can’t be with anyone else except Foster. Which, yeah, he’s been nice to me over the last twenty-four hours, but probably because of what I am.

If I ever do fall in love, I want it to be with someone I connect with, who gets me, who is my other half or whatever, not the only person—creature—I can fall in love with.

Sighing, I lower myself onto a barstool beside Foster, Easton, and Max, and Foster glances up from his plate of waffles. Unlike the last time I saw him, he has a shirt on now, along with a pair of thick boots, and his dark hair is no longer wet but styled. His eyes are also silver. While he still looks gorgeous, I kind of miss the lightning-blue eyes.

“You put eye drops in already?” I quickly bite down on my tongue, my gaze skating to Charlotte.

Crap, was I not supposed to say that in front of her?

“It’s fine,” Foster assures me. “Charlotte is one of the few who knows what I am.”

I breathe a sigh of relief then face forward on the barstool as Charlotte sets a plate down in front of me. “Thanks,” I tell her. “I don’t mind serving myself food next time, though.”

“And I don’t mind doing my job.” She hands me a fork and a bottle of syrup. “In fact, I love my job. It’s way better than working anywhere in Elemental.”

My brows knit as I open the top of the syrup bottle. “Elemental? That’s the world where elementals are originally from, right?”

She nods as she picks up a measuring cup from the counter. “It used to be a lovely world until it started shrinking and became overpopulated.”

“Worlds can shrink?” I ask, pouring syrup onto my waffles.

She nods, shoveling a cup full of waffle batter into the waffle maker. “It can when it’s dying.”

I gape at Foster. “Your world is dying?”

“Our world is dying,” he corrects, twisting on his barstool to face me. “It’s been going on for a while, though, so we’ve all sort of gotten used to the idea. Not that it sucks any less.”

“Can’t you do something about it? I mean, you have powers and …” I stuff a bite into my mouth.

“It’s beyond anyone’s power at this point, unless someone can create elemental gods and goddesses again,” he explains, adding a glob of butter to his waffles.

“Why? What happened to the other ones?”

“They died just under a couple decades ago. And since their energy created and fueled Elemental, it’s now withering as the remnants of their powers fade. And only gods and goddesses are powerful enough to fuel a world.”

“What about elemental enchanters? We’re powerful, right? So, why can’t we do it?” And why do I feel so sad that Elemental is dying?

“We’re powerful, but not powerful enough for that. At least not just the two of us.” His knees press against mine as he rotates sideways in his seat. “And you feel sad about Elemental dying because your powers are linked to it.”

“How did you know I was sad …?” I shake my head. “Never mind. The creepy, merge-y thing.”

“Merge-y.” Easton chuckles as he stands up and stretches his arms above his head. “Our sis uses funny words.”

“Don’t call me sis,” I warn as Foster shoots him a glare and says, “You can’t call her that.”

Easton arches a brow at Foster, his smile taunting. “Why not, bro?”

“Because,” Foster grits out, pinning him with a withering glare.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s not a very good name for the situation.” A funny look passes across his face that leaves me feeling mystified. “I think I’m going to stick with lightning eyes.”

“Or Sky,” I protest. “That’s pretty cool, too. And it’s super short so you probably won’t forget it.”

Easton arches a brow. “You act like I have a hard time remembering names. Like I’m a dummy or something.”

I bat my eyelashes innocently at him. “Well, you do seem to have a hard time remembering mine, so …” I give a half-shrug.

He narrows his eyes at me, but a playful glint twinkles in them. “You and I, lightning eyes, are going to have a lot of fun.”

My lips twitch. “Sky. My name is Sky. S. K. Y. You know, like that big, blue thing that’s always above us.”

“That big, blue thing that you constantly strike lightning across,” Easton stresses with a toothy grin. “So, if you really think about it, my name’s more fitting.”

I give him an unimpressed look, a snarky comeback tickling at the back of my throat, but Holden enters the room and interrupts us.

“Please tell me there’re some waffles left,” he says as he waltzes in, breathing in the syrupy air.

“I’m whipping up another batch as we speak,” Charlotte replies to him with a smile.

He returns her smile then his gaze travels across the rest of us, ultimately landing on me. “Hey, Sky, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Um …” I shrug. Even though he seemed nice when I first met him, after he called me weak last night, I’m a bit apprehensive about Holden. “I guess so.”

He gives me a small smile then signals for me to follow him as he walks out of the kitchen.

Confused, I start after him, glancing at Foster as I pass him.

He smiles reassuringly, but confusion dances in his eyes. His confusion makes me even more apprehensive.

What could Holden possibly want to talk to me about? Clearly no one else in this house appears to know.

Chewing on my thumbnail, I leave the kitchen and meet up with Holden in the foyer. He’s leaning against the banister, waiting for me when I approach him.

“Hey.” He straightens, scrubbing his hand across the top of his head, his eyes zeroing in on my fingernail chewing. Sighing, he lowers his hand to his side. “You don’t need to be nervous, Sky. If anything, I should be nervous… Some of the stuff I said last night was uncalled for, particularly about you being weak.”

“It’s fine.” I lower my hand from my mouth. “It’s not like it wasn’t the truth.”

“Truth or not, I acted like an asshole.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets. “And you’re not weak. You just need to learn how to control your powers, but once you do, you’re going to be very powerful.”

“Thanks,” I say, although I still feel a bit wary about this whole being powerful thing.

“It’s a good thing to be powerful.” It’s as if he’s reading my damn mind again.

“But dangerous.” It’s not a question. They already told me enough about my powers now that I know the more powerful I am, the more in danger I’ll be.

“You’ll be safe with us,” he says instead of trying to sugarcoat the truth, which I appreciate.

I nod, giving him a smile. “I think I’m starting to believe that.”

“Good. After what I said last night, I want to make sure you understand that.” He tensely massages the back of his neck. “Sometimes I can get really protective of my family, but that doesn’t give me an excuse to be a jerk.”

“You weren’t a jerk.” A partial lie, but he apologized and I don’t need to be a grudge holder. “And I think it’s nice that you guys are protective of each other. In fact, there were a lot of times while I was growing up that I wished I had siblings so I could be part of a family who cared about me.” God, I sound like a pathetic, mopey girl looking for a pity party.

“Well, you’re part of ours now, so you no longer have to feel that way.” He steps forward and gives me a hug.

Warmth spills through me, soft and welcoming.

This has happened a few times when I’m around him.

“What is that?” I ask. “That warm feeling you give off sometimes?”

His arms tense around me then he quickly draws back. “It’s nothing really. My powers sometimes just have a mind of their own.”

“So they just do things all by themselves?”

He nods, looking a bit squirrely. “And while I’d love to explain more, we don’t have time right now.”

He’s avoiding telling me something, but with how twitchy he’s acting, I decide to let it drop for now.

“We should probably get back into the kitchen before East eats all the waffles.” He places his hand against the small of my back and pushes me toward the kitchen.

I move forward and push open the kitchen door, stepping inside. Holden follows behind me and a grin breaks across his face at the sight of the plate of freshly made waffles on the countertop.

He hurries over and dives in,. “Thanks Charlotte, You’re the best.”

She grins and stacks another waffle onto his plate.

“I’m trying not to take it personally that you always give Holden more food,” Easton gripes to Charlotte. “But I kind of am.” He juts out his lip. “Is he your favorite?”

“All of you are my favorites,” she replies, then puts a waffle onto Easton’s plate. “If you want more food, just say so,”

Easton grins then stuffs half a waffle into his mouth.

Guys and food. Seriously

I move back toward the counter where my plate is, my stomach grumbling with hunger.

Easton catches my gaze. “Are you hungry, lightning eyes? Or did you eat a baby gremlin while you were out in the hallway?”

“I’m hungry…” I pause as his words sink in. “Wait… do gremlins exist?”

They all bust up laughing, leaving me perplexed and flustered.

“She’s so adorable,” Max muses as he stabs his fork into a waffle.

Holden glances at Max with his brows knit while Foster frowns at him. Max doesn’t appear to notice, though, too fixated with his breakfast.

As tension laces the air, Easton lets out a cough.

“Here’s a little tip, lightning eyes.” He grins at me as he gets up from the barstool and sets his empty plate in the sink. “Leaving food laying around in this house is as risky as dancing with a faerie. You’re lucky I haven’t eaten your food yet.”

I move my plate closer to me. “There’s no way you could’ve eaten all of these and the ones you’ve eaten already.”

His grin widens as he rounds the counter and reaches to steal my plate from me. “I could finish these off in like thirty seconds”

I swat his hand away, and his eyes flicker with surprised delight.

Suddenly, the faucet turns on, spewing water all over the sink.

Holden chokes on a bite of waffle while Max glances from the sink to Easton with a curious look on his face.

“I did that on purpose,” Easton stresses to no one in particular, his cheeks a bit flushed.

“Sure you did.” Max collects his plate in his hand while giving Easton a strange look, to which Easton responds with a glare.

Max reaches over the counter and slams the handle of the faucet down so water is no longer spewing out.

Their exchange is peculiar, but since Easton is blushing—yes, actually blushing—I think it might be better not to ask what’s going on.

“You guys should get going,” Max says. “You’re going to make Sky late for her first day of school, and I really doubt the secretary is going to accept the I-was-late-because-Easton-and-Foster-were-bitching-at-each-other excuse.” He smiles at me as he carries his plate to the sink. “I used that way too many times every time these guys made me late for school.”

Smiling, I stuff a forkful of waffles into my mouth while Foster grimaces, and Easton scoffs, his blush still evident.

“Whatever, man.” Easton snatches up a backpack that’s hanging on the back of a chair. “We learned our bitchiness from you, so …” He smirks at Max then pushes through the door, exiting the kitchen.

Foster rubs his hand across the top of his head then looks at me. “Max is right. We should get going.” He takes my plate with one hand then threads his fingers through mine with the other.

Max gives him an amused look and Foster sighs, steering me across the kitchen and out the door. As we enter the foyer, he hands me my plate then slips on his jacket and collects his car keys from the end table near the door.

“Isn’t your mom coming with us?” I ask. “To check me in or something?”

“She has a couple of things to do this morning for work, but she’ll meet us there.” He zips up his jacket then takes my hand again.

I should pull away. It’s weird holding hands with a guy I barely know. Yet, that’s the thing. I feel like I do know Foster, perhaps from all the times I spent observing him from afar. Not that my covert gawking ever really let me discover much about him, other than he went to the auto body shop all the time. And I’m still not even sure why he was ever there.

Maybe I should just ask him. He’s been so helpful with all the other questions I’ve had.

“Random question,” I say as Foster opens the front door. “Why were you always at that auto body shop in Honeyton?”

His hand stiffens in mine, and the sky, which was the bluest I’ve seen it in a long time, abruptly becomes a grey overcast.

“I went there to pick up parts for my car,” he mutters, then releases my hand and hurries down the stairs as if the house is suddenly on fire. Which, I guess, considering what we can both do …

I peek over my shoulder, grateful no flames are visible. However, that doesn’t explain why Foster abruptly started acting like … well, the Foster I first met.

Sighing, I trail after him down the path and to the garage where his car is parked and Easton is waiting in the back seat.

Foster ducks into the driver’s seat then shuts the door and starts up the engine.

Balancing the plate of waffles in one hand, I open the passenger door and lower my head to glance in the cab at him. “Let me eat this really quick first.” I hold up the plate of waffles. “I don’t want to get your car sticky.”

“I don’t care if you get my car sticky.” He avoids eye contact with me, cranking up the heat. “We need to go or we’re going to be late.”

I glance at the plate, and then at his nice, clean leather interior. “Maybe I should just leave the waffles here.”

Shaking his head, he finally looks at me. “Sky, just get in the car. With how much you’re going to be using your powers today, you need to eat or you’re going to be weak. And I’d rather you get my car sticky than for you to come off as weak on your first day of school.”

Easton lets out a snicker. “You guys should really start paying more attention to what you’re saying. All this sticky talk sounds so dirty that it’s starting to make me feel sticky.”

Foster rolls his eyes. “If you don’t cut this whole jokester shit out, I’m going to tell Sky why you were blushing in the kitchen and why the water turned on.”

Easton’s smile quickly dissolves. “Shut the hell up.”

“Then you,” Foster quips, catching Easton’s gaze. Easton glares back at him but smashes his lips together and remains silent.

Foster’s gaze settles on me, his expression softening. “I promise I don’t care if you eat your breakfast in here. It’s just a car, Sky.”

“Oh, fine.” I climb in and shut the door, balancing the plate on my lap while I strap on the seatbelt. “A very pretty car, though.”

A smirk curls at Easton’s lips as he digs his phone out of his pocket. “A girl who’s into cars? Dude, I think Foster just crea—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Foster cuts him off, throwing Easton a sharp look. “I swear to the gods, I’ll tell her.”

Easton pulls a mocking face. “Whatever. I’m just saying the truth. And this is payback for the many times you gave me shit about the girls I hooked up with.”

Foster’s lips part then shut, his shoulders slumping. “Fine. But just lay off it for a while, or else I’m going to tell her.”

“I’ll try.” Easton hammers his fingers against his screen as he types a message.

They grow quiet after that as Foster turns back around in his seat.

“So, you’re really not going to tell me what embarrassed Easton?” I ask as the secrecy starts to taunt me.

Foster shakes his head, his gaze skating to me. “Trust me; it’s better if you don’t know.”

I crinkle my nose. “I’m not so sure I agree with you.”

Foster gives me an apologetic look, then shifts the car into reverse and starts to back out of the garage. “This is sort of random, but I’m curious; have been curious about this for a while.” He pauses as he turns the car around and drives down the driveway. “That day you approached me and asked about my car. Did you really know what year it was or did you look it up on the internet?”

“I knew what year it was … My dad, he’s really into classic cars.” I stab the fork into the waffles. “If I hadn’t known, I wouldn’t have taken the time to look it up.” I pop a bite of waffle into my mouth. “I wasn’t that eager to impress you.”

“Sure you weren’t.” He tosses me a teasing smile.

“I actually wasn’t. My friend Nina convinced me to do it, and I only did it because she pointed out that you weren’t from Honeyton, so the outcome wouldn’t matter because I probably wouldn’t see you again.” I stuff another chunk of waffle into my mouth, mostly to distract myself from my internal embarrassment. “Go figure you ended up being the son of my new guardian. Seriously, it’s like fate hates me or something.”

He slows to a stop as he reaches the edge of the driveway, staring ahead at the road. “Does it hate you, though?”

I’m not even positive if he’s talking to me or himself. Still, I almost reply with a yes, especially after he got so irritated with me for no damn reason when I asked him why he was at the auto body shop. But I can’t bring myself to say so.

The truth is that me ending up with the Everettsons isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I’m starting to see that now. In fact, I feel more weightless than I ever have, able to embrace my powers instead of despising them.