To my surprise, my father takes her hand and gives her the briefest of shakes before releasing her as if she’s electrically charged. “Congratulations on the exhibition,” he says. “The Council is—well, frankly, the Council is stunned you pulled it off.”
There’s a compliment buried in there somewhere, but I doubt it’s what Emery hears. She answers him with the softest possible “Thank you,” then sits back down.
My father doesn’t take a seat. He circles the perimeter of the room, fingers tracing the spines of old law books and glancing at the windows.
“It’s a remarkable thing you’ve done,” my father says, still not facing either of us. “Not many omegas have the… stamina. The fortitude. I can’t say I was optimistic, given your background, but you’ve managed to distinguish yourself. That takes something.” He turns, finally, and fixes her with the blue-eyed stare that used to freeze me in place as a child. “I underestimated you, Miss Grey. I apologize.”
Emery blinks, as if she’s having trouble processing the words.
Hell,I’mhaving trouble processing his words. My father doesn’t apologize.
He waits, watching her, then me, then her again.
Emery smooths her skirt. “Thank you, sir.” Her tone is careful, and I understand why. I assumed—and told her—that my father would come in here blazing and angry with me for not following through with his decision to oust Emery. Instead, he’s standing here apologizing and praising her.
My father nods, once, and I can see the effort it takes for him to keep his posture loose, his hands open. “There’s a lot of talk, you know. About the future of this pack. About what’s expected. I made some assumptions, perhaps, that were… premature.”
He stops, and for a second I think he might actually say what he means. But then he pivots and turns to me.
“Ranier,” he says, “you’ve done well. I may not have said so, but I’ve watched you handle things. Even when they weren’t ideal.”
By “ideal” my father means “his plans.”
I wait for the insult, for the twist of the knife. To me surprise, it doesn’t come. Which means the Council really was that impressed with Emery, and that they’re no longer hoping she’ll leave. It means the Council has finally accepted a commoner omega might just have a place here all along.
My father sharply breathes in. “I want you both to know that House Everhart is proud. Not just of what’s been done, but ofhowit was done.”
It’s the closest he’s come to a genuine compliment in my adult life.
“Are you serious?” I ask it without a single care for careful tone or respect. Because everything about this is so fucking unusual that I’m tempted to believe this isn’t actually my father.
He looks to me. “Yes, Ranier. I understand we’ve had our differences, but I see now that you’ve taken charge of your own family. That you now understand what I do, and how important it is to put family first. So yes, I am serious.”
I swallow hard. My mouth has run dry. I don’t understand. And yet… I do. But I cannot put this version of my father into place with the version I’ve known my whole life.
Maybe I don’t need to. Not just yet.
My father won’t give me the time, anyway. He steps toward the door, then pauses. “You have my blessing, for whatever that’s worth.” His eyes flick to Emery, then back to me. “Take care of her. And yourselves.”
“Thank you.” I have no idea what else to say in this moment. I was ready for a fight, notthis.
He turns to leave, but Emery stands, quick as a match strike. “Sir?”
He stops, but doesn’t turn.
She’s shaking, but her voice is clear. “That’s nice and all, but I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to.”
There it is.
My father finally turns, slow, with a flicker of annoyance behind his mask. “Excuse me?”
Emery takes a breath. “You have four children. Two of them could run the world with a hand behind their back. One of them already does. The other just wants to be a kid. You’re lucky. Most people don’t get half that. And you spend all your time trying to fix what wasn’t broken in the first place.”
His jaw tightens. “I raised them to succeed. I had to.”
“Maybe,” Emery says, softer now, “but you never let them see that you loved them for anything besides what they could do for you.” She glances at me, then back at him. “If you want to apologize, you could try it on Ranier. Or Helena. Or Richard and Dorothea. I’ll be fine.”
He stares at her, caught between fury and fascination.
