Chapter 18 #2
“You murdered them as they slept?” Malachi’s voice cut sharp. “Rhys had just been killed. I almost drowned, and your first instinct was to go on some revenge trip?” He shot to his feet, chair screeching. “Who the hell thinks like that?”
“Sit down, please.” Ina pointed at the chair. “Listen to what your dad has to say.”
Malachi spun on her, anger flashing hot and wild. “I bet you knew.”
The accusation hit square on her chest.
For a heartbeat, she thought he’d say it. Whatever sharp-edged thought was forming. Instead Malachi swallowed it, jaw clamping shut. Then he dropped back into the chair, hard.
The old Malachi would’ve exploded, slamming doors and thundering upstairs or out to meet Ally to cool down. This one stayed. Barely—but he stayed.
“I don’t regret what I did,” Archie said quietly. “But I’m not proud of it either.”
Ina didn’t look at him. She watched Malachi instead—the way his shoulders stayed tight, like he was holding himself together by force alone.
“I saw a newborn Selkie,” Archie went on. “And I just wanted to go home.” He placed his hand on Malachi’s shoulder. “Home to you.”
Malachi stiffened, but didn’t pull away.
“I had to let them live. Children shouldn’t pay for the crimes of their parents.”
Ina felt the familiar split inside her—the part of her that understood mercy, and the part that had never believed it came without cost. Tonight was proof of that. Still, she kept her mouth shut.
“We all make decisions based on the information we have at the time,” Ina added, backing Archie up. “Your dad did what he thought was right.” She watched Malachi as she spoke, gauging the damage. “We can’t judge him too harshly for that, can we?”
“I don’t know what to think right now.” Malachi shoulders slumped. The fight drained out of him. His face had paled, his eyes dull with exhaustion. He wouldn’t be able to endure much more this evening.
She drew a breath, ready to call a halt, to suggest sleep and time to process.
“What happens now?”
The question stopped her cold. Archie answered before she could, thank God.
“Things are changing on Latharna,” Archie replied. “The question is what role will we play in that change?”
Ina’s heart raced, fast and even. This was where Archie needed to step forward—the way that Daddy used to, steady and final, even when the truth was ugly. Ina folded her hands around her mug to stop herself from answering.
“I say we do what Wolfenden’s are supposed to do.” Archie straightened. “We protect. We fight when we have to, starting with the Selkie. This isn’t revenge. It’s restoring order. We’re Wolfendens. One of the oldest families on Latharna. And we’re human now. We have a duty to protect our home and—”
“Now human?” Malachi cut in.
Ina smiled despite herself. Malachi the dreamer, but sharp when it mattered.
“Let me show you.” Archie stood and motioned for Malachi to follow.
Ina rose with them, instinctively taking the rear. Not out of deference—out of habit. Someone had to watch the angles, the doorways, look out for spaces where things could go wrong. She let Archie take the lead without comment, even though every part of her was primed to step in if he faltered.
He led them down the hall and into his office.
“Your office?” Malachi paused inside the doorway, eyeing the bare desk, unused chair and bookshelves that were more decorative than functional. How Archie ever managed to convince anyone this was a working office was anyone’s guess.
Ina remembered standing here for the first time.
She hadn’t understood what the Hideaway was then—only that it was important.
That it was sacred. She’d felt it in her bones, the way sometimes children do before they have the words to explain it.
Daddy had closed the door behind them and lowered his voice, and she’d known that whatever lay beyond the bookshelf wasn’t meant for everyone.
Archie’s mouth twitched. He’d waited a long time for this. Too long if she was honest. But he was here now, standing on the right side of the choice at last.
He pulled out a battered copy of Treasure Island from the shelf and tossed it to Malachi.
“Treasure Island?” Malachi caught it with a slight grimace. The pain in his ribs easing. Wolfendens healed quickly. He flipped through the dusty pages and wrinkled his nose. “What’s this got to do with anything?”
Ina reached out and squeezed his arm, encouraging patience. Malachi’s eyes flicked back to Archie, curious now, wary but engaged.
Archie reached into the shelf.
Click.
The latch released—a sound Ina had heard more times than she could count. The bookshelf slid aside, smooth and silent, revealing a narrow staircase. The light flickered on.
Archie’s eyes lit up. Malachi stared, open mouthed.
“Well.” Ina was unable to stop the corners of her mouth from lifting.
“After you.” Archie swept his hands in theatrical chivalry.
Ina tutted, but she squeezed his arm as she passed, before turning back to let Malachi pass.
“You coming?” She already knew the answer. Curiosity had its hooks in deep now.
And this time, Archie was leading him towards it—not pushing or hiding, just opening the door.
Ina followed last, as she always did. Watching, the way she always had.