“Yes.” Melinda nodded, sending Charles a sly wink. “He’s the best chef. We wouldn’t know what we would do without him.”
Charles cleared his throat and adjusted his collar as his soul lit up from the praise. “Thank you, Madam Havoc.”
“Charles,” Melinda scolded playfully. “How many times will I have to ask you to call me Melinda?”
“I couldn’t,” he whispered hoarsely.
“You used to,” she murmured, her expression turning sad. “We were childhood best friends, weren’t we?”
“Yes.” His gaze shone with devotion. “I decided to live for you just as my father lived for yours. The moment we turned of age, it became improper for me to call you by your first name. I respect you far too much.”
“If you respect me, call me Melinda…” Her voice wavered. “Please, Charles.”
“Yeah, Charles,” Slater piped up. “Listen to what Mom wants. You know we all consider you family.”
Charles turned another shade darker, but he bowed slightly. “For my fondness of our childhood, I fear if I let myself refer to you as Melinda, my heart may not be able to take it.”
Melinda’s face morphed into shock before a light laugh tinkered out of her. “Then, let me worry about that. Okay?”
Charles’s blue gaze lifted to meet hers, and he nodded once. “I’d love to, Melinda.”
“Please, sit.” Melinda pointed to the chair next to her.
Charles opened his mouth to argue, but she shot him a pointed look, and he sat down.
Dinner was a whirlwind of flavors and surface-level conversation after that, but it wasn’t long before Slater set down his fork and leaned forward.
“Bram, Mom and I have something to ask you. Don’t freak out, okay?”
Bram tensed immediately, his fork halting mid-air. “What?”
I reached over and placed a hand on his thigh for support. He was so nervous. It radiated down the bond.
“We know you’ve cut ties with the Hemlocks. That was a smart thing to do, but it’s also painting a target on your back in the Demon Capital. We want to offer you something that we don’t know how you’ll react to, honestly.” Slater rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he glanced at his mom.
Melinda took over, her voice gentle and kind in the same way it was with me when they left to get the food out of the kitchen. “I know I’m not your mother. But I am Slater’s, and you’re his brother. I’ll be frank. We want to adopt you, Bram. To officially make you part of our family. As a Havoc.”
The room fell silent.
Bram froze, his expression unreadable.
Then, suddenly, a rush of anger and discomfort flooded our bond before he lashed out. “I don’t need your pity,” he snapped, his voice trembling. “Or your nobility.”
Slater’s gaze didn’t waver. “This isn’t pity. This is family. You’re my brother, Bram. That’s not going to change.”
Melinda nodded urgently. “We’re not trying to replace what you’ve lost, but we’d like to give you something new. We do not pity you, Bram. You are doing well for yourself. We just…want to be part of your life.”
Bram’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him. I felt the moment hope entered his soul, replacing all of the anger. “But you’ll never understand how I tick,” he muttered.
“Let us try,” Slater said simply.
“Youcouldlet them try,” I whispered softly, flooding my bond with him with encouragement. “They’re sincere. I can see it in their souls, Bram.”
“I…” Bram trailed off, uncertainty in his gaze as he flicked his red eyes between Slater and Melinda.
“You don’t have to answer now.” Melinda placed a hand on Slater’s and smiled at Bram. “Just think about it, alright?”
He nodded reluctantly, and the tension in the room eased.
