Silence.
And then Lauren steps forward calmly, like I didn’t just shout at everyone. “You know, I used a quick-rise yeast for the bread I started downstairs, and I bet it’s the perfect time to pop it in the oven.” She smiles winningly at Abaddon. “Some fresh-baked bread would go fabulously with steak.”
“I can make some rosemary potatoes and salad that will round out the perfect meal,” Hannah says enthusiastically. She puts an arm around Lauren’s shoulders, and together they start toward the stairs like they’re already old friends.
Everyone joins them. Kharon helping Ksenia up from the chair with tender care, one hand supporting her back. Abaddon scooping up Raven mid-flight and settling her on his broad shoulders. Even Layden, tucking his device away and falling into step.
I’m left alone in my righteous indignation.
Standing in the middle of the room like a fool.
The last one to go is the baby. She flies in my direction, hovers in front of my face for a moment, then shakes her littlehead at me like she’s disappointed. She sticks her thumb in her mouth and flies away to follow her parents.
Even the child thinks I’m wrong.
I stand there in the empty room, fists clenched, chest heaving.
And realize with growing horror that I’ve lost.
SIXTEEN
LAUREN
I takea long nap for most of the day and practically bounce down the stone stairs for dinner, excited to rejoin everyone.
The great hall is transformed from this afternoon—warm golden light spills from iron sconces mounted on the ancient stone walls, casting dancing shadows across the vaulted ceiling. The long wooden table that could easily seat twenty is set with mismatched but beautiful dishes, and the smell of seared meat and fresh bread makes my stomach growl audibly.
The food is delicious—way better than anything I’ve cooked in years—and it’s easy enough to ignore Romulus, who’s still sulking at the far end of the table like a gargoyle someone forgot to animate. He sits rigidly in one of the high-backed chairs, his massive wings folded tight against his back, barely touching the food on his plate. His tail lies motionless on the floor beside him, and his jaw is clenched so tight I’m surprised his teeth don’t crack.
Meanwhile, the rest of the family is incredible. So fun and engaging andwarm. The conversation flows like wine,punctuated by laughter and the clink of silverware. I totally understand why Remus spoke about them with such affection. Each one of them is a character straight out of a storybook I’d want to read cover to cover.
Abaddon dominates one end of the table—all lion mane and intimidating curved horns that catch the candlelight. His golden eyes are fierce, his muscled frame taking up nearly two chairs’ worth of space. But then he absolutelymeltsand becomes a teddy bear whenever it comes to his wife or daughter. Like right now.
Baby Raven is perched on his massive shoulders, her tiny clawed hands grabbing his horns like handlebars. She’s the size of a human toddler but covered in sleek black feathers, with leathery wings that keep flapping excitedly and nearly smacking her father in the face. Her eyes are bright and mischievous—way too intelligent for someone who can’t even talk yet.
Hannah sits beside them, petite and human and somehow completely at ease surrounded by all these supernatural beings. Her auburn hair is pulled back in a messy bun, and she’s wearing a flour-dusted apron over jeans and a sweater. She keeps trying to get Raven to eat. “Come on, sweetie, just one more bite of potato.”
But Abaddon’s more intent on swinging his massive head around, making Raven shriek with giggles as she clings to him, her tiny wings flapping with pure delight. She knows exactly what she’s doing when she releases one horn to steal a piece of steak off her dad’s plate and stuff it in her mouth before her mom can stop her.
“Raven!” Hannah tries to sound stern but can’t quite hide her smile.
Across from them, Kharon is a study in contrasts. Where Abaddon is lion-like and golden, Kharon is darker—his skin a deep bronze, his features more human except for the smallhorns that curve back from his temples. His black wings are folded neatly behind him, and he moves with a quiet grace as he constantly tends to his partner.
Ksenia sits beside him, heavily pregnant and glowing despite the exhaustion evident in her pale face. She’s stunning—high Slavic cheekbones, blonde hair pulled back in a braid, one hand perpetually resting on her rounded belly. Kharon keeps refilling her water glass, adjusting cushions behind her back, cutting her meat into smaller pieces without her even having to ask. The tenderness in every gesture makes my chest ache.
They said she’s only six months along, but she looks ready to pop any day now. Apparently that’s when Hannah delivered Raven. These special hybrid pregnancies work on a completely different timeline than human ones.
Which makes me frown and press a hand to my own flat stomach.
Uh.
I’m usually so good about protection—it’s been drilled into me since my teens. But I didn’t eventhinkabout it with Remus. Things got so hot and heavy so fast, my brain just completely shut down. Every rational thought dissolved the moment his hands touched my skin.
But I’m not exactly ready to be a mommy, as devastatingly cute as Raven is. Like, not even close.
Layden sits catty-corner to me, hunched over his phone, only half-participating in the conversation. He’s the most—I cringe away from the wordnormaleven when I think it—human-looking of the brothers. No wings, no tail, no horns. Just a lean guy in his twenties with tousled dark hair and bright blue eyes that rarely look up from whatever screen he’s staring at. He’s wearing a hoodie and jeans that have definitely seen better days.
Apparently his human appearance is because of some horrific trauma involving his father literally cutting off hiswings. Jesus. I don’t know the whole story, but I guess after the whole buried-alive thing, he went off and lived among humans for a long time.
