“Since when does running a microbrewery means you have to embrace every cliché?” Without warning, Rory lunged, managing to ruffle Ross’s hair before his twin ducked away. “What is that, a man-bun?”
“I make artisanal craft beer. Customers expect me to look the part.” With dignity, Ross straightened his mussed hairdo. One tawny eyebrow cocked as he looked Rory up and down. “What happened to your mane?”
Rory grimaced, running a hand self-consciously over his own short, golden hair. “Had to cut it. Health and safety regs.”
“You have safety regulations?” Ross chuckled. “I thought you ran into burning forests?”
“That’s why we have safety regulations.” Abandoning the banter, Rory pulled his brother into a tight hug. “It’s good to see you again.”
“And you.” Ross hugged him back, nearly cracking Rory’s ribs. His brother might not cut firebreaks for up to sixteen hours a day, but he did wrestle massive oak barrels for a living. “We were starting to think you weren’t going to make it.”
“I wouldn’t have missed this party if I’d had to fly across the Atlantic on my own two wings.”
“Ross!” Rose’s voice called from up above. “We’re out of Swanfire!”
“On it!” Ross yelled back, releasing Rory. His amber gaze raked over the stacked casks. He hesitated between a couple—both of which looked identical even to Rory’s equally sharp eyesight—before hefting one under an arm. “Come on. Everyone’s been asking after you.”
Rory started to follow his brother up the stairs, then realized the silence behind him had changed slightly. He paused in mid-step, waiting.
Nothing happened.
“Okay,” he said out loud. “I’ll be back soon.”
From the top of the stairs, Ross gave him a peculiar look. “What?”
“Never mind.” Rory took the stairs three at a time to catch up. “So the whole gang is here?”
“Everyone except Morwenna and Danny. The baby’s due any day now, so they couldn’t risk flying out of Valtyra.”
Rory shook his head. “I still can’t believe we’re going to be uncles.”
“I still can’t believe those two really did turn out to be mates. You remember how annoyed he used to get about her following us everywhere?”
“Morwenna knew a long time before he did. It just took her a while to get him to stop seeing her as a little kid.” Rory sighed. “Our brother is one lucky man.”
“May we all find our mates so easily.” Ross shouldered open the door to the main room of the pub. “Rose, look who’s here!”
“Rory!” Rose hurried from behind the bar to enfold him in her soft, strong arms. “When did you get in?”
“Just now.” Rory hugged her back. “I came straight from the airport.”
Like the Full Moon, Rose never changed. Oh, he supposed there had to be a few more laughter-lines around her eyes and a few more silver threads in her hair these days…but she was still Rose, as warm and welcoming as ever. He let out his breath, relaxing into her air of deep, wise peace as much as her embrace.
“If you’ve got time later,” he murmured in her ear, “I could really do with some advice.”
“I’ve always got time for my honorary nephews.” She drew back, pursing her lips ruefully as she looked around the crowded bar. “Though not literally at this moment. Come talk to me when this quietens down?”
“Thanks, aunt Rose.” With a last squeeze, he let her go. “But shouldn’t this be your party as much as anyone else’s? What are you doing serving drinks?”
“What I love doing,” she said, smiling. She bustled off, raising her voice. “All right, all right, I’m coming! Keep your fur on, I won’t let you perish of thirst!”
Ross was busy tapping the new cask of beer, with the degree of concentration usually reserved for brain surgery or defusing bombs. Leaving him to it, Rory scanned the crowd. He picked out John Doe instantly—the indigo-haired firefighter towered over everyone else, even the other sea dragons. And where he was, you could be sure to find…
“Excuse me. Pardon. Coming through.” Rory cut his way through the crowd. Grinning wider than ever, he cleared his throat. “Congratulations, Fire Commander.”
The Commander turned. His golden eyes—exactly the same shade as Rory’s—crinkled as he glanced down at the rank insignia on his formal uniform.
“One day I’ll stop looking around for someone else when people call me that,” Griff said ruefully. “M