Chapter 24 Sylvie
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sylvie
Irode on Kenai’s back as we flew toward the library. The night sky was perfectly clear. My grandmother rode sidesaddle on Aleksi, sitting perfectly straight like the queen she was, while my mother clung to Taimyr for dear life. Through our bond, I could feel Kenai chuckling.
“Sorry about the family. I know they can be…a lot.”
Kenai snorted, and through the bond I felt his comfort wash over me like a warm hug.
We descended toward the ancient forest, its pines heavy with snow, a little faster than I thought was necessary.
As Kenai skidded to a stop, the wind whipped around me and lifted me clean off his back.
I landed, thankfully, in a nearby snowbank.
Next thing I knew, Kenai’s white hair and silver eyes filled my vision, blocking out the starry sky above. “That’s what family is, Sylvie. A lot. But it’s obvious how much they care for you.”
I didn’t know if my uncertainty was that obvious, but my mouth twisted with doubt. Kenai tsked softly before pressing his lips to mine. “I see where you get your fire from—and we need that now, more than ever.”
He kissed me again and our bodies pressed together in the snow. I melted into him, letting his warmth give me a moment of reprieve from the chaos we were about to walk into. Then, suddenly, he was flying backward through the air.
“Enough.” Aleksi had grabbed Kenai by the back of his coat and practically flung him into a snowbank. “We have work to do, and you’re both covered in snow.”
Kenai emerged sputtering, his white hair now dusted with fresh powder. “You didn’t have to throw me!”
“You weren’t stopping,” Aleksi said flatly—but I caught the faint twitch of his lips.
Taimyr jogged over, clearly entertained. “Aleksi’s just nervous Grandma Rose is going to corner him alone in library.”
“She asked about his workout routine on the flight over,” Kenai added with glee. “Three times.”
“She’s eighty-two!” Aleksi’s face went bright red above his beard.
“Eighty-two and apparently still has excellent taste,” I remarked, brushing snow from my coat. “Though I should probably warn you—she’s known for being very…persistent. That extends to other areas of interest.”
Aleksi looked genuinely alarmed. “You’re not serious.”
“She already asked me if your father was single.”
“I need to be elsewhere,” Aleksi said, panicked. “Far elsewhere. Perhaps back in Finland.”
Taimyr caught his arm before he could bolt. “Oh no, big guy. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little old lady.”
“Your grandmother scares me more than Jólnir,” Aleksi muttered as we headed toward the library.
“Smart man,” I quipped, linking my arm through his. “She should. But don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
“Protect me?” He looked down at me in disbelief. “You’re half my size.”
“But remember—I have claws.” I winked, and the blush on his cheeks deepened down his neck as I squeezed his bicep. We walked toward the cave entrance, where Mom and Grandma were waiting. Grandma was eyeing Aleksi up and down shamelessly.
“I changed my mind,” Aleksi blurted. “Finland. Immediately.”
Taimyr and Kenai each grabbed one of his shoulders. “Come on, big guy. Time to take one for the herd.”
“I hate all of you,” Aleksi muttered as they dragged him forward.
“No you don’t,” I said, rising on my toes to kiss his cheek. “And I promise I’ll run interference if she gets too handsy.”
“What?!” Aleksi looked horrified.
“You really haven’t spent much time around older women, have you?” Taimyr scoffed. “They’re worse than alphas in rut. All that experience and zero shame.”
“Still here,” I reminded them. “And that’s my grandmother you’re talking about.”
Kenai laughed and planted a kiss on top of my head. “Then you know it’s true.”
He wasn’t wrong.
It was past three a.m. when we finally took a real break. Aunt Patricia had signed off hours ago, promising to have her section done by morning. My mates were spread out among the stacks, organizing contracts and comparing notes. Aleksi was conveniently the furthest away.
Which left the three Hartwell women gathered around the mahogany desk.
Mom brought in hot chocolate—real hot chocolate, mind you—and we sat in the comfortable, if ancient, chairs.
“So,” Mom said, cradling her mug. “How are you really doing, sweetheart?”
“Honestly? I have no idea.” I laughed weakly. “A week ago, my biggest problem was whether to make partner or start my own practice. Now…well, everything’s different. It’s insane.”
“But you’re happy,” Grandma Rose noted. It wasn’t a question.
I thought about it—about Kenai’s gentleness, Taimyr’s steadying presence, the way Aleksi had slowly opened up to me, to us. About feeling like I belonged somewhere, with someone, for the first time in years.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I am. Terrified and in way over my head, but happy.”
“Good.” Mom reached over and squeezed my knee. “You know, I always worry about you. You work so hard, push yourself so much. You’re so much like your grandmother”—she glanced at Rose—“no offense.”
“None taken. I was a workaholic. It’s not a secret.”
“But you seemed lonely, Sylvie,” Mom continued. “Ever since Adam. Like you were trying to fill some void with work and cases. I didn’t know how to help you because you’re so independent and capable, and you never seemed to need anyone.”
“I did need people,” I whispered. “I just didn’t know how to let them in.”
“And now?” Grandma Rose asked.
“Sometimes,” I quipped with a cheeky grin, “a little Christmas magic is just what a girl needs. Now I have three wonderful men who won’t let me shut them out, even when I try.”
“Three men,” Mom said almost wistfully.
“Yes, Mother. Three men. It’s not what I ever expected, but I know it’s right.”
Grandma Rose chuckled. “Well, you always were an overachiever.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, sipping hot chocolate and watching the magical lights of the library twinkle.
“I’m sorry,” I said finally. “For not being around more and being too busy with work to visit or call. I followed in your footsteps a little too well.” I looked at Grandma Rose.
She set down her mug and reached for my hand. “I’m sorry too. For being the example that taught you work was more important than everything else. For not showing you there was another way.”
“But you’re showing me now,” I replied. “By being here.”
“Because this one matters,” Grandma Rose said firmly. “You asked for help and we’re family, and that’s what family does. Even if it took me nearly eighty-two years to get it right.”
Mom cleared her throat, and I realized she was crying. “I’m so happy to be here with you.” She pulled us both into a hug, awkward with the mugs but perfect anyway. “My brilliant girls. My fierce, stubborn, wonderful girls.”
We stayed like that for a long moment—three generations of Hartwell women who’d lived very different lives, but were all connected.
“Alright,” Grandma Rose declared eventually, pulling back and dabbing at her eyes. “Enough sentiment. We have a case to win and approximately thirty-six hours to do it.”
I grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And Sylvie?” She paused. “Those men. They’re good for you. I can see it. Don’t let fear make you push them away.”
“I won’t,” I promised. “I’m learning. We all are.”
“Good. Now come on. These new contracts aren’t going to write themselves.”
I grabbed our empty mugs and stood to set them aside. As I did, I caught sight of Kenai, his head bent close to Taimyr’s as they reviewed something. Aleksi was on the phone, speaking rapid Finnish—probably gathering more testimonies.
Grandma was right. They were good for me. And I was good for them too.
Time to prove that together, we could take down anyone.
Time to win this thing.