Supernatural Inmate (Supernatural Captivity #1) - Avery Song Page 0,3

he had a few inches on the twins.

Fae had the ability to grow taller or shorter if they chose to. Dominick loved to be tall, especially because he worked as a model at multiple agencies and had been on covers like GQ, Men’s Health, and other high-profile magazines. It was a good height for him anyway, unless he landed a role in a movie full of badass, 6’6" warriors.

Dominick looks good in gold armor. What was I about to talk about again?

"I'm heading to the men's department. I need some boxers."

"Coming!" Tristan scrambled out of his seat.

"Hmph." Otis was already walking away, not caring where they went.

"Hey! I didn't start my lesson," I called out.

"Hurry up!" the three of them replied and then were out of my sight. I looked up at Adonis as he gave me a flirty smirk.

"Looks like I'm your only student, Professor Thorn." He winked and waltzed over to the chair Tristan had been sitting in. Lowering into the pink fluffiness, he leaned back like he sat on a throne and graciously lifted his right leg to rest on his left, his eyes absorbing every curve and line of my body.

"Proceed with your lecture as you try on the remaining three sets. I'll wait."

"Tease," I muttered, annoyed with how sexy he could be using that seductive voice of his.

It was the one thing about incubi that made them so dangerous. Whether they looked like gods or sewer monsters, all they had to do was use that low rumble voice of theirs and sold. You'd automatically find them attractive, and whether you kept your panties on or off was entirely in their hands.

Dangerous or not, Adonis was one of my four "brothers," or bros, for short. Obviously, we were all from different family backgrounds, and Everett never officially adopted us. He didn't think we deserved to be locked down into a family simply because we'd been gathered together by circumstance.

Not adopting us gave us the freedom to keep our family names, something that was still important in the supernatural world, even though our parents had discarded us. It also meant that if we suddenly didn't meet eyes with Everett anymore, we could go our separate ways with no hard feelings.

We all knew that wouldn't happen, simply because Everett was the calmest supernatural I'd ever met.

Unless you stole his jar of honey as a prank. Then you might as well dig your grave, lie in it, and cover yourself up before he finds you.

Anyway, my brothers were as different as they came. Tristan Cardinal. Twenty-four, laid-back shapeshifter. He was the playful one of the bunch. Never too serious unless he wanted to commit a murder. The dangerous thing about shapeshifters was they could literally shift into anything they wanted.

A boy, a girl, your ex, a damn tree. From what he'd gathered from Everett regarding his family, they were some of the top shapeshifters in their community. As to why they'd decided Tristan wasn't a good fit for them was a mystery.

Everett had found him during the one of the worst snowstorms in NYC. I was surprised he hadn't frozen to death, but then again, what did he decide to magically shift into? A campfire.

It seemed completely odd for a bear to roam through the blizzard and see a burning flame in the corner of an alleyway, but it had happened. However, shifting into objects was something only a few shapeshifters could do, and it was costly on the body.

Tristan had almost died after having a two-week fever once he'd changed back. In his normal appearance, he was 6'0" like Otis and Adonis, and was frequently mistaken for an angel supernatural due to his last name, blue eyes, and shoulder-length blond hair.

Why he doesn't just change it is beyond me. I personally think he likes messing with people.

With his caramel complexion, it was hard for people to tell what ethnicity he was, and to be honest, none of us really knew either. He was a shapeshifter, after all, and that meant if he wanted to be Caucasian one day and African the next, he literally could.

Another thing that makes him dangerous. He's constantly being asked to join various police forces, navies, and secret ops organizations.

Then there was Dominick Goldenmoon. Twenty-three, and a smart cookie with perfect skin and flawless features. He'd been voted the sexiest fae alive for three years running.

His has an unusual, emerald green, butt-length hair. Top it all off with tiny strands of gold tinsel that