As he promised Lucas Anderson, Eli had testified at Garret’s trial. He didn’t lie, didn’t embellish, and didn’t ask the council for leniency. He told them what Garret had done to him in the fifteen years of violence that shaped him into Ronan’s enforcer, laying it out in the same factual, clipped manner he’d used in every debrief, even the parts where he committed crimes. But when it was done, he asked for permission to add one thing.
Eli told them about the night at the docks, how Garret had broken out of prison not to hurt him, but to rescue him. How he had discovered O’Grady’s plan and even followed the hired Lone Wolves to Kentucky to stop them from killing Eli. And how after it was all done, he had surrendered voluntarily and offered himself up for whatever sentence they saw fit. The council gave him a life sentence in Siberia, same as Ronan and the others.
Eli didn’t argue; it was the right call, after all. Garret had committed crimes that no single act of redemption could erase. But at the sentencing, when they led him out of the chamber in restraints, Garret’s blue eyes had found Eli’s across the room. They didn’t speak; they didn’t need to. Eli held his gaze and gave him a single nod, and Garret returned it.I’m breaking the cycle, he said to his father silently. And Garret understood.
Because Garret chose to protect his son instead of running , Eli would get to watch his own children grow up. He’d get to be the father Garret never figured out how to be, and that would be enough.
“So, everyone’s coming tomorrow?” Eli said. “Like, everyone?”
“Yup,” she said. “My parents are probably an hour away and they’ll message me when they check into their hotel. The rest are driving from New York and leaving first thing tomorrow. Cross will be bringing Ransom, Isabelle, the kids and the Kentucky clan. And of course, your aunt and cousins are probably boarding their flight as we speak.”
“It will be good to see them again.”
The Featherstones had made it to New York the week after the rooftop. Margaux, Tabitha, and Astoria spent four days in the city, and Eli had braced himself for awkwardness and painful silences. Instead, he got Tabitha dragging Astoria through Times Square while Margaux critiqued the architecture of every building on Fifth Avenue. They ate at the Emerald Dragon with Olivia’s parents, and Tabitha had talked Olivia into a shopping marathon that lasted six hours and produced twelve bags. Astoria and Eli had spent most of the trip walking slightly behind everyone else, not saying much, which suited them both fine. At one point she’d said, “This is weird, right?” and he’d replied, “Yeah,” and that was the entirety of their conversation and processing of the whole situation.
Margaux had pulled him aside on their last evening. They’d stood on the sidewalk outside their hotel, and the matriarch had looked up at him with an expression that held none of her usual steel.
“We’ll never get back what we lost,” she said. “But I’d like to try to build something from what’s left.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”
Now he was going to see them again. And while Eli had promised Olivia there would be no more secrets between them, he didn’t mention that he had spoken to Margaux on the phone last night. She was bringing something with her, she had said. A piece of family jewelry, from the Blake side of the family. Margaux had been holding onto it, she said, waiting for the right time.
“Your mother would have wanted you to have it,” Margaux had told him, her voice careful and precise. “Do with it what you will.”
Time was running out to figure out the words, though if he was being honest, the words had never been the hard part. The hard part had been earning the right to say them.
“Eli!” Matty’s voice came from somewhere in the house, followed by a crash. “I found the bedroom! But I think I broke the lamp!”
“I told you to be careful!” Emily scolded as she marched back inside the house, Cooper giggling as he trailed behind her.
Olivia’s eyes slid heavenwards, before blowing out a breath. “Well, at least that’s one less thing we have to find space for.”
He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Maybe we should just postpone the housewarming. I’m sure Doyle’s?—”
She clucked her tongue. “Nuh-uh. We’re not going to have our party at Doyle’s. Can you imagine Margaux with a pint while sitting at Patrick’s booth?”
The image popped into his head and he guffawed. “Well?—”
“No way.” She grabbed his hand and placed it on her belly, which earned him a kick from their son or daughter. “Look, Emily and I worked hard on getting the backyard set up. And I know the house is a mess, but everyone in the clan said they’ll come over first thing tomorrow and make sure everything will be in place in time for the party. So trust me when I say it’ll all work out.”
Their baby kicked one more time. “I trust you.” He planted a kiss on her forehead. “With my whole heart. Now, let’s go stop Matty before he tries to ‘help’ some more.”
Olivia laughed, a rich, hearty sound that made Eli’s chest warm and his wolf sigh with contentment.
By seven o’clock, every seat in the backyard was taken and people had started hauling chairs from inside the house. The fairy lights and paper lanterns Emily had strung up glowed overhead and around them, the tiki torches threw warm circles across the grass, while the floating candles on the pool drifted in the breeze. Martha and Emily had taken over food prep, with help from the rest of the clan, and now the three folding tables groaned under platters of pulled pork, cornbread, coleslaw, grilled chicken, and a dessert spread that Olivia and the other pregnant True Mates had been circling for the past hour.
Olivia grabbed Eli’s arm and pulled him away from the grill, where he’d been standing with Bobby Fitz discussing something about fleet insurance. “Come on. We should say hi to everyone.”
They found Lizzie and Wyatt first, right by the food tables. Lizzie, whose belly looked so big she was probably ready to burst yesterday, was methodically working her way through a plate cornbread, while Wyatt stood beside her with one hand on her lower back, loading a second plate with everything she pointed at. Every few seconds his gaze would cut across the yard to where Snake was leaning against the fence, and his jaw would tighten.
“Still?” Olivia asked her cousin.
“Since we got here.” Lizzie shook her head. “Snake asked me something about the newest security software update I’m working on and Wyatt’s been tracking him ever since.” She patted her mate’s arm. “It was completely professional.”
“He looked at you for too long,” Wyatt said, not taking his eyes off Snake.
Astoria materialized beside Lizzie holding two glasses of lemonade and handed one over. “If looks could kill, I think Snake would have been dead a hundred times by now,” she told Lizzie, nodding at Wyatt.
