Chapter 10 - Arthur #2
Arthur’s jaw tightened. “He can keep his opinions where I don’t have to listen.”
“That would require him to shut up,” Chase said. “Historically unlikely.”
The door opened on a gust of cold.
Fenred.
Dani went taut beside Arthur, shoulders up, hand tightening around her mug. Arthur shifted half a step, body angling just enough to put himself between her and the room without actually blocking her view.
Fenred came in with a few other Nordan wolves at his back. He clocked Arthur, then Dani, then the mark at her throat.
Noise in the inn dipped.
Fenred hesitated, then walked over.
“Alpha,” he said, giving Arthur a curt nod before forcing his gaze to Dani. “Luna.”
Dani turned on the stool, face neutral. “Fenred.”
Arthur gave a sharp growl. He hadn’t forgotten that day he’d thrown Fenred off of Dani’s vulnerable form in the woods. How later he’d cornered the other alpha and intimidated the truth out of him. How he’d been bullying her for years.
He’d nearly killed the other shifter in blind rage.
It had taken years, but slowly Fenred had refound his footing in the pack.
When he had taken his father’s mantle, Arthur had wanted to expel him from the pack.
But as Alpha, he couldn’t deny the male’s strength.
He’d appointed him to one of the far-flung crews that were stationed at the edges of Nordan territory where he could defend their borders and support his pack without Arthur having to endure his presence much.
Cautiously, Fenred approached, his eyes wary and unblinking as he took in Arthur’s icy glare. He stopped a healthy distance from Dani, his jaw working.
“Dani…” he started, his fists clenching, “look. I just want to say that what happened when we were at school…What I did…it was wrong of me.”
Arthur’s eyes widened, the only indication he was willing to give of his shock.
Chase and Layla weren’t so subtle, their eyes widening, their jaws falling open.
As for his mate, Dani went stiff, leaning almost imperceptibly towards him.
He couldn’t deny the thrill that shot up his spine at her unconscious search for safety, she knew he would give her.
“You’re here,” Fenred went on. “Lunarion marked you. Arthur claimed you. The girl’s blood.
” His gaze flicked, almost flinching, to Aurelia.
“I accept it. I won’t speak against you.
Not in the yard, not here, not anywhere my voice carries.
” He grimaced, like the words scraped going out. “I apologize. Luna.”
Arthur watched Dani.
She held Fenred’s stare. “You made this place hard to love,” she said quietly. “Back then.”
His shoulders hunched.
“I accept your apology,” she added. “However, if you sneer at my daughter once, we’re done. Clear?”
Fenred looked properly at Aurelia; Arthur felt the moment recognition hit. The line of her jaw. The scent. His expression went a shade stunned.
“Clear,” he said hoarsely. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Arthur believed he meant it. Mostly. Old habits clung.
Before he could pick at it, the door opened again.
Alex Gray stepped in with two of his wolves. Cropped hair, neat beard, pale hazel eyes that swept the room and weighed it.
“Fenred apologizing,” Alex drawled. “Didn’t think I’d live to see it.”
Fenred’s jaw clenched, but he moved aside.
Alex’s attention slid to the bar. Arthur. Dani. Aurelia. His gaze lingered on the bite at Dani’s neck half a second too long.
“Alpha,” he said. “Busy week. Hybrids. Vampires. And you’ve added a witch to the pile.”
Arthur growled at his easy tone, his dismissive smirk.
Alex’s mouth curved, not quite a smile. He tipped his chin at Dani, a fraction shy of respect. “Luna.”
“Alex,” Dani said. “I see you’re able to grow a beard now. Impressive.”
Chase coughed, badly disguising a laugh.
Alex’s jaw ticked. “Seems you’re more than just a wee little pup who couldn’t shift. You’re a witch. Perhaps we’d all have phrased things differently then if we’d known,” he said. “Doesn’t make the concerns less real. Witches in positions of influence make people nervous.”
Layla shifted, her hand resting on her belly protectively. Arthur grimaced. Dominic would not be happy to learn that his pregnant mate was being insulted by a Nordan male, witch or no.
Alex ignored her, gaze locking back on Arthur. “You think whoever’s pulling strings on the hybrids won’t use this? Witch Luna. Witch coven. Easy story to tell the packs about why Nordan and Volkhov have gone soft.”
“I think anyone who calls my mate a liability in my hearing is welcome to leave,” Arthur said, voice low and even. “On their feet, if they’re polite.”
Power slid off him, quiet and heavy. Conversations nearby faltered. One of Alex’s wolves shifted his stance.
Alex’s nostrils flared. He could smell the tension. The threat.
“Mind yourself, Alex.”
For a second, Alex looked like he might push. Then he inclined his head, a shade too shallow.
“As you wish, Alpha,” he said. His gaze cut to Dani one last time. “For all our sakes, I hope this pays off.”
“Me too,” she said lightly. “I’d hate for you to be disappointed.”
He moved off to a corner table, where he could see everything. Arthur tracked him until he sat. His wolf kept one ear tilted that way.
Fenred muttered something about needing a drink and retreated to a table by the window with a few other Nordan. Pressure in the room eased, conversation swelling back.
“That guy’s a jerk,” Aurelia said under her breath, glaring at Alex’s back.
Chase flashed her a grin. “That’s politics, kid.”
Arthur leaned closer to Dani. “You all right?”
She tilted her head just enough to meet his eye. “Didn’t burst into flames,” she said. “I’m counting it as a win.”
“You did well,” he said. Pride slipped through before he could dress it up.
Something in her shoulders eased.
They stayed. Chips appeared. Aurelia stole half of Arthur’s portion. Chase told a wildly inaccurate story about Arthur being attacked by a squirrel as a teenager, Dani cheekily adding embellishments that only served to make her giggle.
Arthur glared at his brother. It only made her laugh harder.
For a few minutes, everything narrowed to sticky tables, hot drinks, and the sound of his daughter trying not to snort cocoa up her nose.
He didn’t want to break it.
He also knew if he didn’t speak now, he’d bottle it and hate himself later.
“Dani,” he said.
She’d just wiped a marshmallow mustache off Aurelia’s lip. “What?”
He cleared his throat, suddenly conscious of Chase tilting an ear their way. “I’d like to take you to dinner tonight.”
She blinked. “We’re eating now.”
“I mean properly,” he said. “Just us. Somewhere that isn’t full of people staring.”
Her brows lifted. “You’re asking me out.”
“Aye.”
“Like…a date.”
“That’s usually what dinner, just us, means,” he said, heat creeping up his neck.
She looked at him wide-eyed.
“I don’t expect you to forget anything,” he added quickly. “Or forgive all of it. I just—he forced himself to be plain—“want an hour with you that isn’t about…all of this. That’s all.”
She studied him. “Where?”
“Up by the ridge,” he said. “Past the south trail. There’s a hollow that looks over the bay. No lights. Good sky. I can steal a basket from the kitchen and bring blankets. We sit. Eat. Look up. Talk. Or don’t.”
Her mouth parted, surprise flickering into something like reluctant warmth.
“Picnic under the stars,” she said. “Didn’t have you down as a picnic person.”
“I’m not,” he said. “I’m improvising.”
Her lips tugged. “You’re bad at this.”
“I’m trying,” he said simply.
Her gaze dipped to his mouth, then back up.
“Ground rules,” she said.
“Name them.”
“No pack politics,” she said. “No shouting. No saying ‘witch’ like it’s a dirty word.”
He winced. “I’ll…work on that last one.”
“And no disappearing afterward,” she added, lower. “You don’t get to be sweet for an hour and then vanish.”
His chest pulled tight. “I won’t,” he said. “No running. From either of us.”
She held his gaze a moment longer, then nodded once.
“All right,” she said. “Dinner. Stars. Try not to make it weird.”
“No promises,” he muttered.
Her laugh was quiet but real.
He watched her a moment, the inn’s yellow light catching on her hair, the edge of his mark visible above her collar, her eyes tracking their daughter across the room.
His mate. His witch. The girl he’d lost, the woman he’d found again.
He felt…off-balance. Exposed. Like the ground under him was shifting.
But for the first time in a very long time, looking ahead didn’t feel like bracing for a blow.
It felt like a possibility.