“Vito!” Theo snapped out.
Vito appeared instantly, all innocent confusion. “What? What did she say?”
“Control your mate.”
“Control Bella?” Vito laughed—a huge, booming sound that turned heads across the restaurant. “Forty years and I still don’t know how. Come, tesoro, let the children have their dinner.”
Bella allowed herself to be led away, but not before shooting Avine another significant look and mouthing: “Very strong.”
Silence fell over the table. Then Avine laughed—not polite, not restrained, but a full, genuine laugh that made his ribs ache.
“Your shoulders.” She managed. “Very good for carrying things.”
“I’m going to kill them both.”
“Don’t you dare. I love them.” She was still laughing, her gaze bright with it. “This is the best ward maintenance meeting I’ve ever had.”
Despite himself, Theo felt his mouth curve. “We haven’t discussed a single ward.”
“Terrible oversight. We should probably start.”
“Or we could eat.” He gestured at the spread Bella had left. “Before she comes back and force-feeds us.”
Avine reached for the bread. “I like your strategy.”
SEVENTEEN
THEO
The food was, as always, exceptional. They worked through bruschetta and pasta and an eggplant dish Theo couldn’t pronounce but couldn’t stop eating. Bella appeared periodically to add more dishes—“You haven’t tried the meatballs! Criminal!”—and Vito kept their wine glasses full with the attentiveness of a man who’d been doing this his whole life.
The wine loosened tongues and lowered walls. Conversation flowed easier than Theo had expected—about Haven Shores, about her inn, about his brewery. Small things that accumulated into intimacy.
“Your father.” Avine set down her fork, her expression cautious. “You mentioned him during the ward work. That he did a thing.”
Theo’s grip on his wine glass increased. He’d hoped she wouldn’t circle back to that. He should have known better.
“He violated coven territory.” The words scraped out rough. “The details are Elder Sealed, but what matters is that people got hurt. People I should have protected. I opposed him publicly, causing a pack schism. And instead of staying to fight for leadership, I ran.”
“You were twenty-five.”
“I was the heir. Age wasn’t an excuse.” He forced himself to meet her gaze. The rest of it—the decade away, the hiding, the cowardice he’d already confessed to her over ward stones—he didn’t need to repeat. She’d heard it. She’d understood.
The admission hung between them.
She met his gaze. The candlelight caught in hers, turning them amber. “I think I wanted to be loud again. I’d forgotten how.”
The recognition hit like a fist to the sternum. Matching damage, matching flight—one physical, one emotional—and they’d both ended up here.
“We’re a pair, aren’t we?” His voice had dropped, gone husky.
“Matching damage.” But she was smiling. “At least we’re honest about it.”
He was still holding her hand. She was still letting him. Under the table, their knees brushed—an accident, maybe, or maybe not—and neither moved away.
Theo watched her take a bite of pasta and found it unreasonably attractive. The way she closed her eyes briefly, savoring. The small sound of appreciation. The bit of sauce at the corner of her mouth that she caught with her tongue.
She caught him looking.
