Killing them was out of the question. It would only put the clan on edge, to lose one of their teams, and knowing this haven was being utilized regularly was important. Deyvid could direct a shifter here and have them listen in for more news, maybe even find out about a potential attack in advance. They seemed spooked for now, but that wasn’t going to last.
They wanted Tania and her family scared, not desperate. Well, they’d accomplished that much brilliantly.
Not for the first time, Deyvid wished he had more to bring to his relationship than bad news. He was useful, he couldn’t deny it, but more and more, he felt like a plug added too late to a tub, where most of the water had already drained out across the floor. If only he were more. If only he had the capacity to bringsomething to the table that would make Petur’s sister welcome him instead of tolerate him; if only there was some way for him to return with news like this that didn’t make Deyvid wonder if this was going to be it, the moment that Tania said, “It’s over,” and dismissed him from court permanently. They’d gotten lucky with this last tragedy. They wouldn’t be lucky forever.
Sooner or later, she was going to marry Petur off. Probably sooner, once she realized that her family was being actively plotted against by Deyvid’s own clan.
You always knew you’d have to share him.
Share, yes. Lose, no.
Petur will never willingly leave you. Never.
But he would go, Deyvid knew, if he were scared enough for his family. If securing a marriage alliance meant getting them arms, troops, or powerful spells despite a separation between them, Petur would do it. He would do it reluctantly, angrily, disrespectfully, but he would do it. And Deyvid wouldn’t be able to make it hard for him. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did.
Petur wants you. He wants you to fight for him. Don’t give up just because you’re afraid of the future.
Yet the future was going to come no matter what. The best Deyvid could hope for, in addition to keeping his loved ones alive, was making sure that no matter what changes came for them, Petur could cope. More than that, could thrive.
Perhaps … perhaps it was time for Deyvid to extend his time away. Start making the distance easier for them to bear. He wasn’t going to leave Petur, he wouldneverleave him, but …
If Petur was the one to leave, if Tania pulled them apart, then Deyvid needed to know thathecould survive it as well.
Deyvid got to his feet and slowly began to make his way toward the meadow where he’d left the horses. He could be there bymorning if he was quick enough, spend a bit of time tending to them before he moved to check the havens to the east.
He had the time; he might as well be thorough.
Chapter thirteen
Petur
Three months was a long time to be apart. It was, in fact, the longest uninterrupted time Petur had gone without seeing Deyvid since they first got together. Certainly, he missed him every moment of every day, but he was doing all right. He was busy—very busy changing up palace patrols, training the Shifter Corps, raising up specialized troops for surveillance work, and improvising new and interesting ways to challenge his own physical and mental attributes. He was fine. Just fine.
His niece couldn’t say the same.
“I can’t shift again tonight,” Givencie whined, rubbing at her cheeks as she came out of her cat shift. “My face hurts.” No one was sure why she’d chosen a cat shift when there were wolves in her family line, but Givencie had been determined to become a cat, and so Petur had found a tutor for her who could help her with that. She was, at the moment, no more than a kitten when she shifted and terribly cute. Her siblings were incapable of not petting her little head and cooing over her when she was in her shifted form, which usually made her happy to shift.
Apparently there was a limit to even his youngest niece’s verve for shifting. “You’ve only done it three times today,” he pointed out.
“Three times in one hour,” she replied grumpily. “Delainiedoesn’t have to do that.”
“Only because Delainie can’t shift,” Petur replied. “Would you rather be sitting in on your mother’s court address, like she is?”
“No! But I’m tired.”
“So am I, but you need to be able to move between shifted forms rapidly.”
Givencie glowered at the floor. “Arvendidn’t have to train like this.”
“I’d be making him do this, too, if he was still here.” Instead of sitting on a boat in the middle of the sea just so his mother didn’t lose her damn mind.
It wasn’t that Petur was against theideaof isolation as an effective means of ensuring his nephew’s safety, but practically speaking, it was just about the worst thing for Arven. His communication was limited; he was surrounded by guards, not family or friends, and no one there was in a position where they could formally teach him anything and expect him to have to listen. Arven was a good man, but he had much of his mother’s pride, and the longer he went without getting reminded that he was not, in fact, an island unto himself, the harder it would be for him to adapt when he came back.
But there was nothing Petur could do now for his nephew. All he could do was ensure the rest of his family stayed as safe as possible.
“When is Deyvid coming back?”
There was the other person Petur could do nothing for right now. “Soon,” he said, wishing he could whine about the unfairness of it all right alongside his niece. “He’ll be back very soon.” The Harvest Festival had come and gone last week, andDeyvid had been very—some might sayexcessivelythorough in his efforts along the northern border. He’d unearthed every enemy hiding place he could and sent detailed reports back with flight-capable shifters about what he’d discovered—namely, that yes, the Harriers were being stabby, and yes, his old clan was behind it.
