“Are you all right? Your brothers? Seri?” The concern in my voice was raw, unfiltered, a lapse in control I would have never permitted in front of anyone else.
“We’re all alive, Papa-in-law,” came a soft female voice that was decidedly not Koa’s.
Ah. Serafina. My new daughter-in-law. The lunar witch who had somehow managed to bond with all three of my wayward sons in a matter of days. The one who had stood before me not long ago, half-starved and wounded, as she reminded me that her husbands were my sons, not my weapons.
“But Casimir’s in a bad way and Zane wore himself out helping him. Also…” her voice trailed off, and I heard her whisper, “Koko, how do I make this a video call?”
I exchanged glances with Sebastian, whose lips curved into a small smile. Kaori leaned forward, her eyes bright with curiosity. She had yet to meet Seri in person, but she’d heard plenty from both Sebastian and myself.
“She calls him Koko?” My beloved sounded delighted by this, and I found myself fighting my own smile as my phone screen flickered, prompting me to accept a video call.
I tapped the icon immediately, and Seri’s face filled my screen, tear-streaked, but wearing what I recognized as a survivor’s smile. The fierce pride that surged through me caught me off guard.
I could see she was lying in the curve of Casimir’s body. My son sprawled on what appeared to be the floor of Evermere’s entrance hall, his face pale and drawn, eyes closed, one arm wrapped around Seri’s waist even in his unconscious state.
The camera angle widened slightly, revealing more of the scene. Koa was pressed against Seri’s other side, his expression vigilant, concern etched in the lines around his eyes. Zane slumped against Casimir’s other shoulder, barely conscious, his face ashen enough to make every freckle seem like a minute bruise. Even the dire wolf pup was there, curled over Seri’s legs, warily watching everything.
They were a tangle of limbs and exhaustion, a family unit protecting each other in their vulnerability. Something the boys had learned to be simply to survive under my roof.
“Papa-in-law,” Seri said, interrupting my thoughts. “That’s so long to say. I think I’ll just call you the P. I. L.”
“That’s the exact same number of syllables, beloved,” Koa chuckled in the background, his voice tinged with an affection I had rarely heard from him.
“Pill,” came Zane’s weak voice, as gritty as sandpaper.
The sound alarmed me. I recognized the after effects of deep telepathic work layered with what the swan maidens called their “song.” A dangerous combination that could leave my son drained and ill for a long while.
“Please, sunshine,pleasecall him Pill,” Zane rasped, his eyes still closed.
“Just Papa is fine, Seri,” I cut in.
Beside me, Kaori snorted into her linen napkin, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. Sebastian was less restrained; hesprayed his cup of blood across the white tablecloth, coughing and sputtering, and I speared him with a look.
“All right.” Seri nodded solemnly on the screen, but her gray eyes sparkled with something that might have been mischief. “Well, since Koko wouldn’t call to ask,Iam.”
She turned the camera, panning slowly across what remained of Evermere’s once-elegant foyer. The front door had been completely blown off its hinges, leaving a gaping hole where it should have stood. Shards of glass littered the marble floor. My grandfather’s grandfather clock, a piece that had survived centuries of war, relocation, and the occasional supernatural attack, lay in splinters against the far wall.
And there, amid the destruction, was Amabel Harrow. The teenage witch lay unconscious, her body rigid within the confines of a Hexenfänger, a barbaric, but effective device. She had also been hogtied with fae cord, her hands and feet pulled behind her back in what must have been an extremely uncomfortable position.
Someone—Koa, most likely, given his thoroughness—had taken no chances with her confinement.
Seri turned the camera back to her face, her eyes wide and innocent in a way that belied the battlefield she had just shown me.
“Do you know a good carpenter, Papa?”
The simple question, asked with such guileless sincerity, struck something deep within me. This young woman, who had endured years of abuse at her stepmother’s hands, who had been siphoned to the brink of death, who had just survived what appeared to be a magical battle of significant proportions, her primary concern was fixing the broken door.
And she had called me Papa, as I requested. JustPapa, as if I deserved such familial warmth. If my dead heart could still hurt, it would have ached at that moment.
“I’ll dispatch a crew immediately,” I heard myself say, my voice steady despite the turbulence of my emotions. “And I will be there by dusk, daughter.”
Only I knew those words were not merely a practical response, but a solemn vow. It may have been Seri who called me, but I would be there for my sons. I would correct the mistakes I had made with them. I would continue to reach out, offering help and support, even if they spurned it.
I recalled the day they had asked for my help with the Claudio Kane situation. The distance between us had seemed both insurmountable and yet somehow diminished. There had been anger, yes, especially from Koa, who had never forgiven me for what heperceived as my callous reaction to his mother’s death, but there had also been something new. A reluctant acknowledgment that we were, despite everything, still family.
And they had trusted me to guard their beloved while they hunted down the rogue who’d hurt her and still haunted her dreams.
“I’ll tell Brumous you’re coming!” Seri said with a smile. “He’ll be excited. He thinks you smell interesting.”
