Chapter 30
Niall POV
I watch as Ted weeds the flowers in the greenhouse, his brow furrowed in concentration. The soft morning light filters through the tall panes of enchanted glass, casting prismatic reflections over the beds of vibrant flora and dancing across his skin like blessings from the gods themselves.
He's crouched down, delicate fingers pulling at a stubborn root with surprising strength. The blue shirt he's wearing hugs his frame in just the right way, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, forearms smudged with soil. His curls bounce slightly with every motion.
Ted.
His name still stuns me. When you hear "Ted," you don't expect someone who looks like they walked out of a fever dream. You think accountant. Plumber. Average guy in an average town. Not this luminous, understated beauty with eyes that dim stars.
Also—why do I want him?
Why am I so obsessed? Because I can't read him the way I do everyone else? Because he resists and folds, like a storm that refuses to settle or a song that never quite resolves?
I don't know.
Let's leave it at that. No use questioning things.
Just then, a familiar energy brushes past the edge of my awareness.
Dad walks in—calm as ever, in flowing earth-toned robes, with his braid draped over one shoulder. He moves like the wind: graceful, soundless, and impossible to ignore. But he's not alone.
Trailing behind him is a ghost. No, not a real ghost—but close enough.
Alaric.
My baby brother.
Pale and quiet as ever, in a tiny embroidered tunic with his white hair curling around his face like winter clouds. He looks up at me just as I gasp.
Too late. Eye contact. There's no escaping now.
"ALLIE!!!!!!" I shout, launching forward like a missile.
Alaric doesn't even flinch. He just exhales like an old soul accepting fate.
I scoop him up in a dramatic spin, holding him against me like he's the last plush toy on earth.
"Daddy, Niall... I can't breathe," he says, his muffled voice half-heartedly whining to our father.
"Niall," Dad warns with amusement in his tone.
"Just one more second," I plead, inhaling Alaric's soft baby shampoo scent before reluctantly placing him down.
Alaric smooths his tunic, brushes invisible lint from his sleeve, and gives me a look that would make emperors grovel.
So dramatic. I love him.
---
Ted POV
So. I'm in the presence of a fairy. No, three fairies.
One is Niall, obviously, though I've spent the past couple of days trying to pretend I haven't noticed how the sun seems to bend just right to touch him. But the other?
That must be his father. Noelle Alden.
It's obvious, really. He's radiant in a way that's not quite human—with long, ink-black hair woven into a thick braid that brushes his waist, and striking green eyes that feel like they see right through you. He's tall, poised, ethereal.
Of course the Alden kids all look like they were carved from marble and kissed by stars, seeing as this is the man that gave birth to them.
And the boy next to him—avoiding Niall's dramatic affections with long-suffering dignity? That must be the youngest Alden. Alaric. He's pretty too, in that unreal, soft-spoken, haunted kind of way.
It's not fair.
Next to them, I feel like a very tired, very plain earthworm in borrowed clothes.
I straighten up quickly, brushing soil off my hands and onto my shorts as subtly as I can. I'm still in awe of how clean and elegant everything here is. The greenhouse smells like lavender and citrus. Even the air feels... crisper. Like it's been filtered through something holy.
"Hey, you must be Ted," Noelle says.
His voice is soft but clear, like wind chimes in spring. Even his voice is ethereal.
"Uhm, yes sir. Pleasure to meet you," I stammer, trying not to crumble into my boots.
He studies me for a moment—not in a critical way, just... seeing.
Then he smiles.
It's not a smile meant for show or diplomacy. It's real. Warm. I don't know why that nearly makes me cry.
"You're very polite," he says, then turns to Niall.
"Did you bribe him for good behavior?"
"Bribe? I'm the gift," Niall scoffs, flipping his ponytail dramatically.
I try not to laugh. I fail.
Noelle notices.
"He has a good laugh," he notes casually.
"I know. I plan to make him use it more," Niall replies, all confidence.
I blink at him, embarrassed. Niall winks.
Alaric mutters something under his breath about disgusting behavior and slinks off with a book.
Noelle, for his part, just nods once like everything's as it should be.
"Well, Ted," he says. "Welcome to the madness. If you need anything—and I mean anything—just let me know."
I nod. "Thank you. Really. This place is... surreal."
"Good. Then it's working."
And with that, he strolls off to check on the other half of the greenhouse.
Niall appears at my side, bumping his shoulder into mine gently.
"Told you they'd like you," he says.
I glance at him, at the way the light makes his dark hair glow auburn at the edges, at the easy curve of his smile.
I think they like me because he does.