“An apex predator who reads romance novels to know how to speak to his wife,” Aurion said, grinning.
“It’s not for that. It’s just for research, asshole.”
“Sure. Research. That’s why you stole three more from Wen’s bookstore last week.”
I had no defense for that. The books were helpful. They gave me ideas. Wen seemed to enjoy the results of my research, so I was going to keep doing it.
But the truth was, Torin was there when Killian said “Papa” for the first time. I was arguing with Crescentborn about border taxes, four hours of negotiations about tariff percentages while my son learned his first word.
Wen told me about it after, her face glowing. How Killian’s little face had lit up. How he’d kept repeating it over and over, so proud of himself.
“Papa,” she’d mimicked in his baby voice, laughing. “Papa papa papa.”
I’d smiled and pretended it didn’t feel like a knife between my ribs.
Torin also saw Killian’s first partial shift. Just his ears, small and fuzzy. Wen had been laughing in delight, clapping her hands, while I reviewed security protocols for a visiting dignitary who ended up canceling anyway.
I trusted Torin. I was grateful for him. But some days I wanted to strangle him for being there when I couldn’t be.
“Brother.” Aurion’s voice cut through. “You’re brooding. I can see it on your face.”
“I am not brooding.”
“You absolutely are. You’ve got that constipated look you get when you’re feeling emotions.”
“I definitely donothave a constipated look.”
“You really do,” Daphne confirmed. They were definitely fucking soulmates.
“Everything will be fine,” she added, trying to be reassuring.
“You cannot know that.”
“Neither can you. So stop worrying.”
“Just smile and nod at everyone,” Aurion suggested again. “Worst case, they think you agree with whatever they’re saying. Best case, they’re confused into submission.”
I stared at him. “That is somehow even worse advice than before. How did you not get assassinated in your first year as king?”
“I happen to be very good at fighting.”
Right. But still…
“What if Silvermane tries to - fuck.” I forgot what I was saying. Forgot how to form words. Forgot my own name, probably.
Because Wen had just entered the room. The formal gown was deep blue, the color of midnight, clinging to every curve I’d mapped with my hands this morning. Her hair was swept up, exposing the neck I’d had my mouth on just hours ago. She was radiant, fucking devastating.
And I was standing here with my mouth open like an idiot.
“Brother,” Aurion said from somewhere far away. “Your wife literally just walked in.”
I couldn’t respond or move. Every intelligent thought I’d ever had simply... left.
“Brother?” Aurion’s voice was closer now. “Are you having a stroke?”
Someone was waving a hand in front of my face. I barely registered it.
“I think he’s broken,” Daphne said, sounding far too amused.
