Chapter 7
Seven
Hanna
The door swung open while I was in the tub, washing away the scent of Kaelan and Thorne and the things we’d done before we went to dinner.
I sank down into the scented water, but it was Dare’s tall figure, and I rose again with the water rippling eagerly around me. “There you are! I’ve missed you.”
He grinned, his green eyes crinkling at the corners. “And here it feels like it was just a week ago that you hated me.”
I scoffed. “I’ve never hated you.”
“Lies.” He picked up a towel and held it out for me.
I rose out of the tub, feeling warmed as much by the way he looked at me as I was when he wrapped the soft fabric around me.
“Where have you been?” I asked.
“Had to find you a ring.”
“I don’t need a ring.”
“Maybe Kaelan needs you to have one.” He took my hand, raising my palm to his lips to kiss. “To know I’ve claimed you just as completely as he has.” His brows arched as he studied me. “Though perhaps not as recently.”
“Where is this ring?” I asked, putting my hands into his pockets, trying to steal from him for fun.
“Miscreant,” he said fondly, removing my hands from his pockets and holding my wrists together in one hand as he leaned down to kiss me. “It’s not the right time yet.”
The towel unwound between us, forgotten, and he went on kissing me, and soon the ring was forgotten too.
Thorne and Kaelan were gone by the time Dare and I had dressed for dinner. He offered me his arm and we went together down the halls and out into the garden.
A long, simple table had been set under swaying lanterns hung from the flowering trees, which cast warm light over the long table.
Beyond the riot of pink and golden roses and the stretch of green lawn was the sea, dark and mysterious now under the moonlight, with its rhythmic rising against the rocks.
“Hanna!” Honor was already seated at the table, with Inara on her lap. Damyn carried her over a glass of wine, but gave me one as well, along with a wink.
I sat across from her as I thanked Damyn for the wine. She and I exchanged amused glances—allied on the same side once again, at least for now—as our men milled around like enemy combatants.
Kaelan moved like he owned the space, ice-blue eyes cataloging every detail.
Thorne sat beside me, unrepentantly claiming space with me, while Kaelan and Dare lingered, pouring themselves wine at the long bar set up under glimmering lights that lit a halo around the two dark-haired men.
No doubt they had a reason for watching rather than settling.
Dare sipped his wine and regarded us all with an expression that suggested he was calculating exactly how much trouble he could cause. But wasn’t he always?
“Well,” Dare said into the silence, pulling out a chair next to Honor. I raised my eyebrows at him; he had to know that was not his seat. “This isn’t awkward at all.”
Despite everything, my mouth twitched.
Arren’s hands strangled the back of a chair, his knuckles white as if it might as well be Dare’s throat. “You’re sitting in my seat.”
“Am I?” Dare glanced down at the chair, then back up. “How do fire dragons claim things, anyway?”
He glanced from the chair to Honor.
“Dare,” I said.
He grinned at me, unrepentant. “Yes, princess?”
“Behave.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” But he moved to a different chair.
“It seems you found the male version of yourself,” Talisyn observed as he sat opposite me.
My lips parted in horror. “Hardly.”
Dare, looking satisfied, held up his glass to Talisyn, and Talisyn betrayed our sibling bond by clinking his glass.
“Mischief made mortal,” Tal pronounced.
I was tempted to throw something at Dare to knock away his smug expression. “It’s not a compliment.”
This odd family of mine began to sit, to reach for wine, to arrange themselves around the table in a configuration that was probably all strategic.
I ended up between Kaelan and Thorne, which felt right. Across from me, Branok and Honor sat close together, their hands finding each other beneath the table. Dare had somehow ended up next to Caldren, and the wolf shifter was eyeing him with what might have been amusement.
Food began to appear as servants brought platters of roasted fish and chicken, vegetables glistening with oil and herbs, bread still warm from the oven. The scents made my mouth water, but I found myself too tense to do anything but tear a piece of bread apart.
“Eat.” Thorne’s voice was low, meant only for me. “We can manage ourselves. Even Dare is going to behave.”
I glanced down the table at Dare. “I’m not—”
“Everything is all right,” Thorne promised. “Or at least, everything will be all right.”
Kaelan’s hand found my thigh under the table, a brief squeeze of agreement.
And I found that I could indeed eat.
Slowly, conversation began, then became more comfortable, until I found myself laughing. Really laughing, the kind that came from deep in my chest and left me breathless.
When I looked up, I caught Kaelan watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite name. Something soft. Something that made my heart squeeze.
Across the table, Honor was watching too.
I wondered what she was seeing. I wondered if she saw the way Kaelan’s hand had stayed on my thigh, grounding without constraining.
The way Thorne quietly refilled my wine.
The way Dare had disrupted the conversation anytime it shifted toward the goddess with some flippant remark, casual protection disguised by his usual carelessness.
“So.” Honor aimed a smile at Kaelan that felt more like a dagger. “What do you intend to change when you are king, Kaelan?”
Such confidence in us wrapped up with such a challenge.
Kaelan met her gaze evenly. “I intend to take one step at a time, dragging my kingdom behind me. I’ll need alliances with some of the lords to take my throne, and then they will have to be repaid.
Those who don’t…I look forward to wrenching their wealth away and giving it to the people who have suffered working their lands. ”
Dare was listening intently, and I found something close in my chest again, growing more tense. Would Kaelan disappoint Dare and with him, the rest of the poor villages that were rallying to his cause?
Honor’s chiseled red brows, always skeptical-looking, arched even more. “So the lords who side with you get to keep their ill-gotten gains?”
“As I said. It’ll take time to drag my kingdom into the sunlight. But I’ll be sure there’s both bread and justice for all, and that alone will be painful enough for those who can only enjoy their meal when others’ bowls are empty.”
Honor nodded solemnly, and then whatever she’d been about to say was lost as Inara managed to knock her glass over. “Why would you put your whole hand into my glass?”
I grinned as several servants jumped in to help.
Arren jumped into grab Inara, who had begun to cry distressed at being covered in liquid—even though she was the one who began all the trouble—and flew her through the air like a dragon, right down to the roaring sounds he made, until she was giggling.
I looked around the table and felt something fragile and precious bloom in my chest.
This was what family could look like. Not perfect. Not without tension or history or old wounds. But choosing to sit together anyway. Choosing to break bread and trade stories and find the humor in shared absurdity.
Across the table, Branok was telling a story about Honor’s youngest, and Lynx was interjecting with corrections.
Dare was debating something with Talisyn, their voices overlapping in that way that suggested genuine interest rather than argument.
Thorne had leaned back in his chair, watching everything quietly.
Even Jaik looked almost relaxed, the hard lines of his face softening as he listened to Honor laugh at something Zehr had said.
The lanterns swayed in the evening breeze. Food was passed hand to hand. Wine flowed freely. Plans were being made—tentative, hopeful plans that assumed we’d all be here to see them through.
For a moment, I let myself believe in a way forward to peace, not just for our kingdoms, but for ourselves.
Then the first scream cut through the garden.