Krusk snorted so hard he nearly undid his bowtie. “She’s got you there, little brother.”
I shot him a look, but I couldn’t quite keep the corner of my mouth from twitching. Gabbi beamed, clearly satisfied with herself, and lifted her wand. “Now you’re ready.Poof!Handsome spell complete!”
The room went quiet for a beat. Then Enka said, deadpan, “I think it worked. He’s slightly less terrifying.”
I rolled my eyes, tugged at my cuffs, and muttered, “Let’s get this over with before someone decides we need matching hats.”
As we left the room—three hulking orcs and one tiny witchling in ribbons—Gabbi reached up and slipped her free hand into mine. Her other hand was in her father’s, with her wand clasped between. Her small fingers barely wrapped around one of mine, but the warmth of it eased something tight in my chest.
Maybe it wasn’t such a terrible thing, being part of a family that made me wear bowties.I looked over at my brothers, both of them already grinning like idiots—content, happy, settled. All the males of the clan were now mated and smug about it.
Except me.
The lone standout. The only one of us with any common sense, if I was being honest. Being mated might bring short-term happiness, but in the long run, it was the surest way to ruin your life.
They couldn’t see it yet, but they would, and when they did, I would be there to try to scoop up the broken pieces. Gritting my teeth, I looked forward, ignoring the voice that was screaming inside me.
You know her. You’ve met her.
“No, I don’t,” I growled to myself, and the little witchlingholding my hand sent me a small, knowing, innocent smile. I narrowed my eyes at her, but she just started humming as we walked to the elevator. Our gathering hall—orreception hallas Pen called it was on a lower floor.
Gathering inside the elevator, Gabbi lifted her little arms to me. I complied immediately, settling her easily in one arm, tucked against my side. She pressed her hands to my shoulder, leaning over to whisper in my ear.
“I had a dream last night about you, Uncle Savla,” she told me.
I swallowed hard, because this little femaledefinitelyhad the sight, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know what she’d seen.
“Yeah?” I asked, patting the top of her head with a single finger, careful to not disrupt her curls because I was afraid of her mother as well. In fact, I was terrified ofallthe females in the clan.“That’s nice, sweetling.”
She completely ignored my dismissal of her words.
“She won’t be around forever,” she said in a voice that was years older than she was. I gave her a sharp look and saw that her eyes were a little cloudy.
I should have been surprised. Shocked at the very least, but once again, I wasn’t. Not when it came to her.
“If you don’t act, then she can be taken from you,” she murmured in a voice that wasn’t completely her own. I was about to ask her about her words, but then her eyes cleared and she smacked a kiss to my cheek, resting her little head on my shoulder.
An eerie chill ran down my spine and the face of the female I’d been thinking of non-stop for the past year, since we’d come to this plane, popped into my head before I shoved everything aside.
It couldn’t be true.It was just a trick of the light. Everything’s going to be fine.
The denial I lived with on a daily basis replaced the worry that was filling my chest. Gabbi was just being the silly little witchling that she was. Hanna was safe in our clan and what had happened to her before wouldneverhappen again.
Not under my watch.
By the time we made it to the hall, I was seriously reconsidering my life choices. The clan hall was already packed with members of Dristan and Rudgar’s companies—orcs, elves, witches, and a few fae scattered among them—all dressed up like they’d stepped out of a fashion catalog Pen had bullied them into. Even Gabbi’s little centaur friend, Jael, had been invited.
The scent of roasted meat, sweet breads, and incense filled the air. Bright ribbons hung from the rafters, and someone had enchanted the lights so that they shimmered in bright purple and green. I wascertainmy best friend Zara had something to do with the color choice.It should’ve felt festive, but my shirt collar was still plotting my slow death.
Pen spotted us instantly. Becauseof course she did. A small, sleep-deprived human woman in a flowing blue gown, waving like she was commanding an army—which, technically, she was.
“Finally!” she called, her voice cutting through the chatter. “You three look—” She paused, giving us a once-over. “—surprisingly good! Krusk, your tie’s crooked. Enka, fix it. Savla—” Her eyes narrowed. “Stop scowling.”
“I’mnotscowling,” I said, defensively.
“You’realwaysscowling.”
Dristan appeared behind her, looking far too pleased for a male holding a squirming newborn. The youngling’s tiny fists waved at the air, a soft coo escaping her mouth. For all his strength, Dristan held the baby like something sacred. I felt that weird pinch in my chest again—pride, affection, and something else I couldn’t quite name. Notlonging,definitely, because while I loved my niece, and I very much looked forward to moreyounglings in the clan, I didnotwant my own.
