Acorn’s tail shot up.
The alliance between us had changed from something tense and political into something that might actually work.
Victoria caught my eye, her expression showing satisfaction mixed with exhaustion. She’d ridden into enemy territory and turned a potential fight into a functional partnership with observation and logic.
My wolf rumbled with pride that had nothing to do with dominance and everything to do with the woman sitting beside me.
In one afternoon, she’d done what I’d been failing to do for thirteen years.
I smoothed hair off her face, letting Bastian see exactly how much she meant to me. Our political marriage had stopped being political the moment she’d walked into my life and started solving things I couldn’t fix alone. I wasn’t sure exactly when that had happened. I’d stopped trying to pinpoint it.
Bastian’s staff began preparing the main hall for dinner. The spelled lights brightened, casting a warm glow across the polished floor.
Victoria rose and went over to examine one of the flowering vines woven through the ceiling beams, her notebook out again, her pen already moving.
I watched her work and felt the last of the tension I’d been carrying since we crossed into Bastian’s territory ease.
We weren’t done. The seals still needed repair. The ritual still required coordination and preparation we hadn’t started yet.
But for the first time in thirteen years, I wasn’t trying to hold everything together alone.
Bastian got up and came over to stand beside me, his arms crossed on his chest, watching Victoria with the same attention I was.
She pointed to the vines and spoke with one of the staff, and I’d bet anything her comment had something to do with the care of the plant.
“She’s going to reorganize everything, isn’t she?” Bastian said.
“Probably.”
“Are you going to stop her?”
“Not a chance.”
His mouth curved up on one corner. “Good. We need someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”
From across the hall, Acorn’s chittering reached us. Victoria met my eyes and smiled.
The squirrel launched himself toward the ceiling, catching one of the flowering vines and swinging across the hall.
“Is he always like this?” Bastian asked, cricking his head back to watch the squirrel.
“He’s usually worse.”
“Fates help us all.”
I almost said the Fates had already helped by sending me a wife who could solve problems and a squirrel who offered rhyming advice at critical moments.
Instead, I just watched Victoria work.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
VICTORIA
Bastian’s pack moved the celebration outside at dusk, arranging long tables beside a bonfire already climbing high into the darkening sky. The transition from hall to clearing had happened while I’d been examining the flowering vines, and I stepped outside to find the compound transformed.
I paused at the edge of the gathering, taking in the differences between this and Feral’s celebrations. Both had warmth when the pack gathered. Both had showed wolves claiming space together, their voices rising in conversations that felt more like music than noise.
Earlier today, Bastian’s pack had watched us like threats. Now they watched us with curiosity and welcome.
