There would be no more celebration for us here on enemy grounds. It would have been sad, if I didn’t want to get as far as possible from this place.
Our guests had already departed and gone back to the magical realm. All that remained were the Bloodsworn and Wolfe’s twin dragons.
They waited outside.
Wolfe wanted to speak to my family and me in private so we came in here. Back to the room that had witnessed the terror I’d experienced with Thayden yesterday.
I hated being back here but it was the best choice since it was on the other side of the castle. Meaning, less chance of anyone eavesdropping.
Privacy was key since we were likely going to talk about a number of things. Like my father, and the ring. Wolfe was aware of what my family knew.
Mother, Grandmother, and Emabelle stood together by the hearth. They looked at Wolfe with a strange mixture of joy and uncertainty.
Wolfe and I stood near each other by the door—close, but not quite together. I was a pace away from him.
He’d changed into black leather armor. Something less daunting, but no less intimidating. He still looked like he was ready for war.
Apart from the events of the day, this was the first time we’d stood together. And I supposed this was his first official meeting with my family.
The awkwardness of that was evident.
Wolfe Nightblade was many things.
Prince of Galaythia.
Deathwalker
Grieving son.
Husband.
Savior.
He seemed to carry the weight of all of them as I watched his shoulders tense.
“This wasn’t exactly the way I imagined meeting you,” Wolfe said with a quick glance at me.
“Better have met you in the manner we have than not at all, Your Highness,” Grandmother spoke first.
“Please, just call me Wolfe, my Lady.”
She smiled back at him. “Then I amGrandmotherto you.”
A half-smile pulled at the corner of his lips, softening his features to a more boyish look. “I like that.”
He glanced at my mother and Emabelle who were unusually quiet, even for them.
"I felt I should speak to you all. I’m sure you must be eager to know what my plans are," Wolfe said, his voice gentle.
Mother stepped closer, smoothing her skirts with a slight tremor in her hands. "We are forever indebted to you Wolfe Nightblade."
“No, there is no such debt.” He flicked his palm over and a small scroll appeared. “This is the decree for your home and the land. You will treat it as your own, as you always have.”
He handed it to her and she took it gratefully. “My deepest gratitude.”
“Once this is all over, I will hand over everything to you, but retain jurisdiction so magic can be used here without breach.”
Mother’s lips parted with sheer surprise. I glanced at Emabelle who bore the same look.
