Thinking about the collar made it ache. Even though it technically wasn’t heavy, it still felt like a weight on my shoulders, suffocating me as it tightened around my neck.
Elias’s expression softened, the crease between his brows deepening. Even my wolf mate seemed…aged. Changed. His hair was longer. Not the cropped military style he usually kept it in, but messy and thick, barely staying out of his eyes. It framed his face nicely, making him appear younger in a way. But the lines of his face, like Maeve, were deeper, carved by the time that’d passed between us.
A beard covered his strong jawline, not scruffy, but almost neat in a way. He’d foregone shaving, but the length made it feel like I’d been gone months, not weeks.
I couldn’t see who walked behind him, though I suspected Adrian wasn’t too far. I itched to see my charm mage, to know that what happened in the ruins of the cottage hadn’t completely changed him.
I also couldn’t help but want to see the demon king. Guilt curled in my belly as I turned away from Elias and Hawk, guilt I couldn’t properly identify.
Ahead, I caught my first sight of the house. My breath lodged in my throat as I took in the familiar tower breaking through the trees, the old castle style manor that I’d only seen snippets of in my dreams.
My heart pounded as we came to a fairy tale style stone bridge that arched over a trickling stream below.
“Maeve, put me down,” I murmured.
She shook her head. “You don’t have shoes,a mhuirnín, and you need to rest.”
I made a sound of frustration in the back of my throat. “Please.”
Our gazes met, and I noticed the fight playing in her eyes. The beautiful ocean blue of her irises bled red from the ring surrounding them, her hunger—or fear—barely hidden from me. I didn’t need our bond to understand the thoughts running through her head. Because they were similar to the ones that’d been pounding in mine the moment I saw her and the others again: if I let go, would they disappear?
But she finally stopped and let me down, gently putting me on my feet. We were close enough to the bridge now that beneath us was old stone, worn down from years of foot traffic.
I slid my hand into Maeve’s, sighing in relief when her fingers locked with mine. “I can carry you the rest of the way,” she offered.
Shaking my head, I gave her a gentle smile. “I want to experience this place like he would have.”
Something I couldn’t read flashed in her eyes, but it was gone before I could really understand it. They were keeping something from me. Of course, they hadn’t had time to eventell me anything, anyway. I couldn’t blame them for keeping secrets, since I hadn’t said anything about the pregnancy or Dante’s involvement, either.
Maeve didn’t say another word as she guided me onto the bridge. A shiver rolled down my spine at my first real look at the building. I couldn’t call it a house. It was a manor right out of an old English countryside, with walls surrounding it for protection, a large gate ahead of us, and a courtyard within.
“This is not a house,” Rowan said from ahead, glancing over his shoulder at me like he’d read my thoughts. “Though, to a prince, it probably is.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. “I was thinking the same thing.”
Rowan grinned, cheeks pink and held out his hand for me as Xerxes stopped nearby. The Primal watched me with an unreadable expression. I’d gotten so used to his other form that I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the male version of him. It was nice to see him not as his Primal, but as himself.
When Maeve and I made it to the bottom of the bridge, I took Rowan’s outstretched hand and fully enjoyed the feeling of his touch again. Especially when he stepped into me and I could breathe in his spicy scent. He pressed his lips against the top of my head, lingering for a moment.
“You have no idea how badly I’ve missed you,” he whispered, voice cracking.
I pressed my lips together to stop them from trembling, eyes closing as I soaked in his warmth, his touch. “I do,” I replied, my own voice hoarse. “I really, really do.”
He shuddered as he pulled away. “I’m sorry, I know you do.”
“It’s okay,” I said, blinking hard and swallowing past the lump building in my throat. “I’m lucky I wasn’t alone.” I spared Xerxes a glance, one he met carefully.
“And I’ll be thankful for that—for them—for the rest of our lives,” Rowan said before kissing the top of my head. “Come on. Let’s get you inside and out of…that.”
The nightgown stank of dirt, sweat, and blood. It’d been my only protection against Dante’s soldiers, specifically the ones who liked to stand near the cages to just…watch. I was ready to get rid of it, to finally shed this humiliating part of Dante’s torture.
The ground went from the hard stone of the bridge to cobblestone, smooth and slippery beneath my feet. We walked beneath another arch, crossing the threshold into a courtyard empty except for a few planter boxes—which grew nothing—and a large chest. Maybe remnants of a project Orion had been working on, before…
The lump in my throat made it difficult to breathe as I tore my eyes away from it. Inside the courtyard, I got a better look at the manor. There was a tower, just one that reached for the storming skies, pulled right out of a fairytale with vines of green ivy crawling up it.
The roof looked intact, no clear damage anywhere. When Orion said it was abandoned, I expected a lot worse. But this…this place was beautiful. There were stained glass windows nearby, a set of ornate double doors across from us, little details in the stone walls.
I could almost imagine what life might look like here. Quiet mornings on the balcony to my left that overlooked the courtyard and forest, drinking my morning coffee while I watched the ocean. Of afternoons down here with my sisters, planting flowers in the boxes.
