WolfeBlade: de Wolfe Pack Generations by Kathryn Veque (reading an ebook txt) 📕

why she did it. All she knew was that every event in her life over the past year had built up to that moment and she was desperate to escape it, however stupidly.

But she didn’t feel like escaping it anymore.

She felt something she hadn’t felt in a very long time – hope.

Just as the wait was becoming torturous, Andreas finally made an appearance and Gavriella left the window and rushed to the mirror for one final look at herself. She turned for the door when something on her cousin’s dressing table caught her eye; a golden headband that had a white gossamer veil carefully stitched to it twinkled in the dim light.

It was a headpiece that a proper maiden would wear and, impulsively, she put it on. With the gold glittering in the light and the soft veil trailing just past her shoulders, she looked prettier than she had ever looked in her life. She wanted Andreas to think so, too.

God, she needed this, more than she’d ever needed anything.

Dressed and ready, Gavriella made her way to the chamber door and unbolted it, quietly cracking it open.

The corridor outside seemed to be still and quiet, so she stepped out of the chamber and silently shut the door. She was acutely aware that Aurelia’s chamber was right next door and she tiptoed past it, moving as swiftly as she could without making a sound. Since the entry door of the manse was directly below, Gavriella silently made her way down the staircase to the reception hall below.

There were a few servants moving about, but they didn’t pay any attention to her as she went to the front door and threw the bolt. Pulling the door open, she was immediately confronted by two armed soldiers, but they did nothing more than shut the door behind her as she walked out. No questions, no comments. Their job was to guard the door, and guard it they had. Their job was not to question a young woman who was coming out of the manse, unescorted.

But that didn’t stop them from giving her a queer look.

Oblivious to the expressions of the soldiers, Gavriella was focused on Andreas across the wide avenue. He was literally all she saw. The man had been watching the front door and when she came through, he came across the street and met her right in the middle.

For a moment, they simply looked at each other. All they had really seen of each other since their acquaintance had been in dark chambers or in the fog, or in fire-lit rooms. Never out in the sunlight where they could get a good look at one another. From the dark, dank night to the bright light of day, it was literally a world of difference.

And the difference was staggering.

“Greetings, my lady,” Andreas said after a moment, a smile playing on his lips. “I am pleased to see that you thought enough of me to keep our engagement.”

Gavriella smiled broadly. “And I am pleased you thought the same,” she said. “Truthfully, you look quite different than you did last night. I hardly recognized you without all of the bulky things you were wearing.”

He laughed softly, the dimples in his cheeks carving deep. “That is my usual attire,” he said, holding out his arms to show off his fine clothing. “I confess that this does not belong to me, but to my uncle, who is a diplomat for the king. He forced me to wear it. Something about women liking men in fine clothing and not men who looked like they just crawled off a battlefield. I think he is mad, but I took his advice nonetheless.”

Gavriella laughed softly because he’d spoken in a jesting manner. “Did he really say that to you?”

Andreas’ smile was broad. “He did not,” he said. “I just thought to say it to mayhap gain your sympathy. A fighting man does not dress like this, as a rule.”

Her gray eyes glimmered at him. “You’ll find no sympathy here,” she said. “You look very fine. I like it very much.”

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, his gaze moving up and down her thoroughly exquisite dress. “As do you. I… I find myself speechless, my lady. When I met you last night, I had no idea that… well, all I can say is that surely the angels are jealous of your glory.”

Gavriella’s cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. “You are very kind,” she said. “But I stole this from my cousin because I did not have anything pretty to wear, so mayhap we can move along now? I would hate for her to come running after me and demand I return everything.”

He offered her an elbow. “I would hate that, as well,” he said. “Hurry, let’s run for it.”

Gavriella giggled and took his elbow, clutching him tightly as they began to walk swiftly down the road. Andreas took a turn at the first smaller street they came to, disappearing from the view of The Asher.

But it wasn’t fast enough.

Neither one of them saw the face in the window on the first floor, looking out over the street. Had they noticed, they would have seen Aurelia watching them run off together. The very sister who had insisted on attending Gomorrah, who adored men, and was threatened by her beautiful cousin now had a reason to hate her.

A reason to be vindictive.

Aurelia had always been the queen of The Asher. She had male suitors and considered herself the most sought-after woman in London. She certainly wasn’t willing to relinquish that title to any country mouse. She’d heard her cousin stirring in the next chamber and it had been enough to get her out of bed. She’d even heard Gavriella slip out of the chamber and down the stairs. She’d moved to the window just in time to see her cousin run across the street to meet a man who was perhaps the most handsome man Aurelia had ever seen.

Jealousy consumed her.

She wasn’t going to let