Chapter 27 #3
They made their way back towards Duvain Tower as the sun began its descent towards the horizon, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose. The crowds thinned as they left the market district, replaced by the more orderly flow of corporate foot traffic, and Baylin leaned towards him.
“You’re being followed,” he said softly. “Two of them keeping a consistent distance.”
His lips curved before he could stop them.
“I should have known you would spot them. They’re part of her security detail.”
Baylin nodded and dropped back again, the entire exchange occurring so quickly and quietly that Ember didn’t even notice.
Or perhaps she did, he thought, catching the hint of a smile on her face. Clever little mate.
“I should warn you,” Ember said as the tower’s gleaming spire came into view. “The situation at Duvain is… complicated. My aunt’s exile has created a power vacuum that others are trying to fill. Some of the board members are actively working against me.”
“Let them try.” Baylin’s voice was flat and dangerous. “I’ve dealt with political maneuvering before. It’s the same everywhere—the weak seeking power, the powerful seeking more. The solution is always the same.”
“And what solution is that?”
Baylin’s smile showed too many teeth. “Make them afraid to try.”
She glanced at him, a question in her eyes.
“He’s not wrong,” he admitted. “Fear is a tool like any other. Used correctly, it can prevent conflicts before they begin.”
“But used incorrectly, it breeds resentment and rebellion,” she said thoughtfully. “My father believed in loyalty earned rather than fear imposed.”
“Your father sounds like a wise man.”
“He was. But he also failed to see the threat closest to him.” A shadow passed across her features. “I don’t intend to make the same mistake.”
They reached the tower’s private entrance, and the guards now on duty straightened as they approached. He noted their improved alertness—the result of two weeks of intensive retraining under his supervision.
“Ma’am. Sir.” The senior guard’s gaze flickered to Baylin. “Who’s your guest?”
“New security personnel,” he answered before Ember could speak. “I’m bringing him in for evaluation. He’ll need temporary clearance until the formal paperwork is processed.”
The guard hesitated for just a moment—long enough for Rykan to make a mental note to address that delay in tomorrow’s training session—then nodded and stepped aside.
The elevator ride to Ember’s private floor was silent. Baylin stood with his back to the wall, taking in every detail of the luxurious space. He watched his old friend process the obvious wealth, the technological sophistication, the understated power that surrounded them.
“This is very different from the mountains,” Baylin observed.
“Everything is different from the mountains.”
“And you’re content here? In this glass tower, surrounded by humans?”
He looked at Ember—at the female who’d dragged herself out of a burning ship, who’d demanded he teach her to fight, who’d faced down her murderous aunt with nothing but cold determination and absolute certainty.
“I’m content with her. The rest is just… scenery.”
Baylin made a low sound in his throat—not quite a laugh, but close. “Love. The great destroyer of sense and reason.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“I say it like a wolf who’s watched it drive better males than either of us to madness.” But there was no real bite in his words. “Still. Perhaps it’s different for you. Perhaps she’s different.”
“She is.”
The elevator doors opened onto Ember’s private floor. Tomas was waiting in the entrance hall, his weathered face carefully neutral but his relief obvious.
“Miss Ember. I was beginning to worry.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She crossed to the elderly servant and squeezed his hand briefly. “Rykan was right—I needed to get out of the tower and clear my head.”
“Of course, miss.” Tomas’s gaze shifted to Baylin, sharp with assessment. “And who is this?”
“Baylin.” She gestured for his friend to approach. “He’s an old friend of Rykan’s. He’ll be joining our security team.”
Tomas studied the newcomer for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Baylin endured the scrutiny without complaint, though Rykan could see the faint tension in his shoulders.
“I see,” Tomas said finally. “Will he be needing quarters?”
“Guest suite three should be suitable,” he answered. “We’ll discuss permanent arrangements once he’s settled in.”
Tomas nodded, still watching Baylin with those sharp old eyes. “Very well. I’ll have the room prepared. Dinner will be ready in an hour, if that suits?”
“That would be wonderful.” Ember gave him a warm smile. “Thank you, Tomas.”
The elderly servant withdrew, and she led them through the entrance hall into the expansive living space beyond. The evening light streamed through the wall of windows, painting everything in shades of gold.
Baylin stopped in the doorway, his amber eyes wide.
“You live here.”
“I know.” She shrugged ruefully. “It’s excessive. But it’s home.”
“It’s a palace.”
“It’s just a lot of expensive materials arranged in pleasing patterns.
” She moved to the window, looking out at the city sprawled below.
“The tower has history, though. My grandfather built it when Duvain Enterprises was just starting out. Every generation has added something.” Her hand touched the glass.
“My father added the gardens on the forty-second floor. He said he needed somewhere quiet to think.”
He watched her profile against the fading light and something tightened in his chest. She belonged here, in this world of glass and power. She’d grown into it, shaped herself to it, and now she was fighting to claim it as her own.
And he would fight beside her. For as long as she wanted him.
“The gardens,” Baylin said thoughtfully. “That’s a vulnerability. Open access from above, limited sight lines, multiple points of concealment.”
“I’ve already addressed the security concerns.” He moved to stand beside Ember. “But you’re right—it needs work.”
“We should walk it together tomorrow. Fresh eyes might catch what you’ve missed.”
“Agreed.”
Ember turned from the window, her eyes moving between them. Something soft flickered in her expression—gratitude, perhaps.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “Both of you. For today. For everything.”
“You needed it.” He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ve been burning yourself out for two weeks. It’s not sustainable.”
“I know. But there’s so much to do—”
“There will always be so much to do. That doesn’t mean you stop living.” His thumb traced the curve of her cheek. “Promise me you’ll take breaks. Real breaks, not board inspections disguised as outings.”
Her smile was small but genuine. “I promise.”
Baylin cleared his throat. “I should go find those guest quarters. Leave you two to do…” He made a vague gesture. “Whatever it is mates do.”
“Dinner in an hour,” Ember called after him as he retreated towards the hall. “Tomas will be disappointed if you don’t eat.”
“I wouldn’t dream of disappointing him.” Baylin’s voice echoed back. “The old male looks like he could give me a fight if he wanted.”
And then they were alone.
She leaned into his chest, her head fitting perfectly beneath his chin. He wrapped his arms around her, breathing in her scent—sweeter now, relaxed, content.
“That went well,” she murmured. “Better than I expected.”
“Baylin is…” He paused, searching for the right words. “He was closer to me than my actual brother. I didn’t expect to find him here, after all these years.”
“Are you glad?”
“Yes.” The admission surprised him with its certainty. “I thought I’d put that part of my life behind me. But seeing him, talking to him… it reminded me that not everything from before was poisoned. Some things were worth keeping.”
Her arms tightened around him. “And now he’s here. With us. Building something new.”
“For as long as he can stay.”
“You think he’ll leave?”
He considered the question. Baylin had always been restless, even in the pack—the enforcer who volunteered for the longest patrols, the warrior who grew irritable when confined to the den for too long. Years of rootless wandering had probably made it worse.
“I think he’ll try to stay. Whether he can…” He shook his head. “Some wolves aren’t meant for settled lives.”
“And you? Are you meant for a settled life?”
He pulled back enough to look at her—at the female who’d asked him to follow her into a world he didn’t understand, who’d trusted him with her safety and her heart, who’d become essential to his existence in every way.
“I’m meant for you,” he said simply. “Everything else is details.”
Her smile bloomed slowly, warming her face like sunrise over the mountains. She rose on her toes and pressed her lips to his—a soft kiss, gentle and full of promise.
“I love you,” she whispered against his mouth.
“And I love you.”
They stood together as the last light faded from the sky, wrapped in each other’s arms, and for a moment the weight of empires and legacies and lurking dangers seemed very far away.
The quarterly review was still coming. The board members were still circling like predators. The endless work of building something worth fighting for continued.
But tonight, there was this. The two of them, together. And a former packmate sleeping down the hall, perhaps finding peace for the first time in years.
An odd kind of peace, he thought. But it was theirs.
And he would defend it with everything he had.