Evander
Ryatt only wanted to see me to tell me what I already know.
I’m not leaving yet, but if it were up to him, I’d be on the next ship sailing out from Tarsian into the uncharted sea south of Eastonia with no return date.
I’m needed. It’s the only reason I’m still in Moonrise. While Ryatt is the king, he has commanders to appease, and all of those commanders are currently fighting over who gets to use the Ghosts.
“I’m not a fucking roofer,” Flynn groans, squinting against the sun as he drops another box of singles on the roof we’re currently patching.
“You look the part,” Connor remarks from a few feet away, his brow damp with sweat and eyes shining in the setting sun.
Flynn scowls and wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing tar across his cheek. “This is absolute bullshit. Where the fuck is Commander Artyom? I know this wasn’t his idea.”
Connor's eyes flicker to mine. He gives me a knowing smirk. “I take it your soon-to-be father-in-law didn’t take so kindly to the news?”
Flynn belts a colorful string of curses as his hammer comes down on his thumb for what might be the fourth time in the last twenty minutes.
“He loves me,” I say sarcastically, waving an arm around the tight roof overlooking the lake. A three story drop greets us below, and the warriors who dropped off our supplies accidentally took the ladder we used to get up here with them when they left.
We can get down. It’ll take a while, but we’re not going to be stuck up here forever. He must think a twisted ankle and bruised knees will keep me out of his daughter's bed.
I roll my eyes to the skyline where golden light reflects off the vibrant roofs and towers of the city center.
I told Kenna we’d shift tonight.
I’m not going to miss out on that.
“Why are we being punished for Evander’s inability to keep his hands off the princess?” Flynn complains, flexing his bloodied hand. “One second, I was cozy in the Roguelands awaiting another opportunity to be stationed in Crescent Falls, and now I’m here, fixing the roof of a seafood restaurant.”
“The Ghosts are still going to Crescent Falls,” I murmur, but my attention is fixed on the building just a few feet away from the one we’re perched on. A single open window leads into someone’s kitchen. I gauge the distance, weighing my options.
“To find some girl?” Flynn shakes his head.
“She must be important,” Connor adds.
I stare at them both. “I know as much as you know.” It’s true. I’ve told them everything. After leaving Kenna with my dad, I went to Ryatt’s office as summoned, found out Connor, Flynn, and several Ghosts in my usual unit had just arrived in town, and was given my next mission.
That had turned out to be helping clean up the giant mess the Draven warriors left behind during their raid.
As far as I know, we’re still going to Crescent Falls, but the mission is delayed now that Queen Ella is home and relaying what she learned to her mate.
Until then, we wait, which means I have more time with Kenna and Brie.
The sun lowers over the mountains at the edge of the lake and casts the sky in ribbons of the deepest pinks and purples, and I make my move.
“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Flynn says somewhere behind me as I rise from my knees and eye the distance between this roof and the window.
I look at Flynn and Connor over my shoulder. “I'll see you guys sometime tomorrow. I’m sure I’ll have more news for you then. Right now, I have an appointment, and I’m late.”
I take off at a sprint across the roof against the shouts of alarm from Connor and Flynn. I leap, resisting the urge to shift, and duck through the window while giving the three-story drop below me a single glance.
My feet hit the tiled floor hard enough the knick-knacks in the butter-colored kitchen rattle on impact.
Bowing slightly in apology at the older couple sitting at a nearby table eating dinner, I race through the snug apartment and out into the city center.
Night falls in earnest before I reach the castle. I enter through my family’s private wing, which is quiet and empty. Mom and Dad must be with Ryatt and Ella, I’m guessing. Which might mean Kenna is with them, which means my plans to sneak her out to shift tonight might not come to fruition.
I check her rooms and find them just as empty, but as I’m starting to lose hope, I do a quick sweep of the infirmary.
My mate is dressed in a light cream dress with a white apron, her dark hair pulled back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She leans over an injured warrior as she speaks in soft tones to another healer–something about the dosage of herbs they’re giving him. She straightens and turns around. I wonder if she can sense me nearby like I can when she’s near.
I’ve been curious about what the mate bond feels like for her. For me, it’s overwhelming. Like my entire body is tethered to hers. Every emotion, every feeling, every sense courses through our shared bond, and I feel it in full.
But I have no idea how she feels, whether my emotions mingle with her own. I try not to think about it, honestly. There is a small, insignificant part of me that harbors doubt because of the fact she can’t, and never will, feel as strongly for me as I do for her.
But her smile as she meets my gaze melts any doubts.
She wipes her hands on her apron, rising on her toes to look over my shoulder as I approach.
“How’d you escape the recovery effort?” she asks in a teasing tone. “I heard whispers you were seen on a few roofs today.”
“I was,” I admit, resisting the urge to sweep her into my arms and run out the castle with her. “We had a date, though.”
“Right.” She unties her apron and bunches it in her hands as she leads me out of the infirmary, stopping to toss it in a laundry hamper at the very edge of the room. “There’s something we need to do first, something my mom has been bugging me about.”
“What’s that?”
We walk side by side down a tight corridor leading back to the grand foyer–a servants corridor–and she pauses in a shadowed alcove. “I told my Mom about Brie.” Her tone is slightly strained, which alarms me. Before I can say anything, she continues, “She wants to meet her, obviously. She’s surprised, and I’m sure she’s told your parents about our plans to adopt her. I told her Brie would be staying with the wet nurse until Dad releases you from your duties today in hopes she’d talk to him about how he’s acting right now… but you obviously escaped purgatory on the rooftops.”
“Your father has every right to not like me,” I tell her, tucking my hands in my pants pockets. “I would do the same for Brie, I’m sure, if she were ever in love with someone who treated her the same way I treated you.”
“You were protecting me. I understand that now–”
“I could have done things differently.”
“Well,” she smiles, toying with her dress. “You have the rest of your life to make it up to me, don’t you?”
I smirk, and the playful expression behind her eyes makes me feel a little more relaxed about our current situation.
A few minutes later, Brie is in my arms, fed and asleep, and we’re on the hunt for Ella. The massive castle’s network of winding hallways and narrow stairwells were built in a time when an entire pack would live in one dwelling together. Dozens of rooms branch out before us as I follow Kenna upstairs to the private quarters belonging to her family.
My parents are there already. I knew they would be. The personal library of the royal family has always been a meeting point for them and Kenna’s parents. I used to come here as a child and read or play quietly while our mothers conversed, but the colossal room that stretches four stories high and houses millions of books seems smaller than usual.
And much, much more crowded, especially as Ryatt rises from an armchair near the dormant fireplace with a glass of whiskey clutched so tightly in his hand his knuckles are white.
Dad leans against a bookshelf but straightens as Kenna closes the door behind us and takes my arm. I find myself clutching Brie a little tighter than I normally would.
Her soft pink cheeks crinkle as she yawns, her brow pinching together before she lets out a soft whine.
Mom stands overlooking a long table where Ella is sitting with at least a dozen books splayed open between them.
Everyone looks at us. Nobody says a word for what feels like a very long time.
I scan the room before landing on Ryatt. I look directly into his eyes for several seconds before slowly bowing my head in his direction.
Kenna stiffens beside me but clears her throat. “Hi, uhm… I thought now would be a good time to introduce everyone to your new grandchild–”
Mom and Ella rush away from the table in a flurry of vibrant fabric and noise. I can’t think straight over the hushed murmurs of surprise and awe.
My eyes are still locked with Ryatt’s, however. When Kenna tries to take Brie out of my arms, I tighten my grip on the baby on instinct.
Ryatt notices. He slightly narrows his eyes but relaxes his grip on his drink and turns to say something to my father.
“Let me have her, Evander. It’s all right,” Kenna whispers, giving me an exasperated smile as she takes Brie into her arms and rests her against her shoulder.
My mom has tears in her eyes as she and Ella pepper Kenna with questions. Kenna, in turn, tells them the story of how Brie came to be.
But she left one very important thing out.
“We believe Brie’s mother and father were part of the Draven Coven.”
Everyone in the room looks at me. Kenna’s nostrils flare as she pats Brie’s back, her eyes flicking to her mother’s face.
Ella slowly turns her gaze from Kenna to me. “How do you know?”
Ryatt speaks from his armchair, “We need to speak to our daughter–alone.”
Silence hugs the curved, wide room. I glance at my dad, still standing near Ryatt’s side. He flexes his jaw as he nods and strides toward Mom, taking her by the arm.
Kenna steps into me, trying to lock her fingers with mine, but I shake my head. “The usual spot, tonight. I’ll wait for you.”
I reach for Brie, but Ryatt growls, “The baby stays here.”
My mate's eyes narrow on her father as Ella whips to Ryatt. “What is your problem, Ryatt?”
“Come on, sweetheart,” Mom says to me, giving me a little nudge to follow her and Dad out of the library.
I hold Kenna’s gaze until the library door closes behind us with a snap.
“Are you going to continue allowing him to speak to us like that?” I ask Dad.
“He is our king, and Ryatt is my closest and dearest friend. You and Kenna have no idea what you’re getting yourself into if that child belongs to the coven. We already have enough to deal with–”
“Not now, Granger,” Mom sighs, roping her arm through mine. “Tell me about her, Ev. Tell me everything.”