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

Her hand found his and she squeezed it tightly. “Nay,” she said softly, her eyes alight with warmth and joy. “That is not true, I swear it. You are all I’ve thought of for the past several months, but I did not know if I would ever see you again because I was so foolish.”

“What about?”

“For playing that foolish game and not telling you everything about me. I should have told you everything the first night I met you.”

He grinned. Then, he chuckled softly, taking her hand and bring it to his lips. He very much wanted to do more, to take her in his arms, but he didn’t dare. Not when there was a chance someone would see them.

“It does not matter now,” he breathed, kissing her hand tenderly and feeling her warmth against his flesh. “You are here. You have been here the entire time.”

“I have,” she said. “And you… you are from the House of de Wolfe.”

He nodded slowly, her hand still at his mouth. “My father is Troy de Wolfe, Lord Braemoor,” he said. “My grandfather is William de Wolfe, the Earl of Warenton, and my garrison is Monteviot Tower, which is a day’s ride from here. I was so close to you the entire time. I still cannot believe it.”

She was in full agreement. “Nor can I,” she said. “I swear to you that I was going to tell you everything you wanted to know on that morning. I… I was going to tell you who my father was. In case you wanted to speak with him, still.”

There was a question in that statement. She was asking him if he was still interested in her after everything that had happened, after all these months. As he looked at her, he felt as if the separation had never happened. He was here, she was here, and that was all that mattered. All of the confusion and disappointment he’d felt faded away.

His eyes glimmered with mirth.

“You’re not meant for the veil,” he said.

It wasn’t a question. The smile faded from her lips. “Nay,” she said. “But… but there is something…”

“There you are!”

A booming voice interrupted them. Startled, Gavriella yanked her hand out of his grasp and as she quickly stood up, several big knights entered the hall, all of them bearing de Wolfe tunics. Gavriella had seen Andreas wear the same tunic in London and he wore it now. He’d told her that it had been of a wolf, but she had never made the connection to the House of de Wolfe and she should have. Living in the north her entire life, she knew the name well. Now, she was surrounded by de Wolfe knights, Andreas included, and she dipped into a polite curtsy as the knights came near the hearth.

“My lords,” she said. “I am Gavriella de Leia. My father is Lord de Leia. I have been asked to show you to your accommodations.”

She darted off, towards the entry, and the men swung around to follow.

Andreas brought up the rear.

He was simply watching her.

Like a balm or a salve, she soothed his soul, so deeply encased in a shell of self-protection, but he felt as if simply reveling in her aura filled him with a peace he had never experienced. To hear her reasons for not meeting him in the tavern on that day in question brought about more relief than he’d ever known. She hadn’t simply left him there to make a fool of him.

She didn’t show up because of circumstances beyond her control.

God, it was good to hear that.

“The men are getting settled,” Brodie was saying. “I’ve got some of them packing into the stables because… Dray? Are you listening?”

Andreas hadn’t been. He had been watching Gavriella, several paces ahead. “I am,” he lied, though he’d heard the word “stable” and assumed what he was talking about. “You can put a few hundred in the hall, but tell them they are to keep it clean. The moment it starts smelling like wild animals live there, I will throw them out into the snow. Is that clear?”

Brodie nodded. “It is,” he said. As they headed out into the bailey, he lowered his voice. “Did you find out what is going on around here?”

Andreas nodded. “Not now,” he muttered. “When Lady Gavriella leaves us, I will tell you what the de Leia knight told me.”

Brodie was still looking at him strangely. “Are you well?” he asked. “What is wrong?”

Andreas looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you look odd.”

Andreas didn’t want to say anything, not here. He waved him off. “Later,” he muttered. “I’ll tell you everything later.”

Brodie shut his mouth.

The group entered the keep of Falstone, a massive, circular-shaped structure. Gavriella took them to two chambers on the entry level, in a corridor just off the entry so there was swift access to the exit.

The chambers were smaller and crowded, but cozy and clean. Andreas immediately ordered Gareth, Corey, and Reed into the smaller of the two chambers while he, Brodie, and Will took the larger one. Although Andreas loved his half-brothers, he didn’t want to sleep in close quarters with them. If Corey and Reed kept him awake with their fighting and chatter, he wasn’t sure how he could explain to his father that he’d been forced to smother them.

He was only able to briefly thank Gavriella for her hospitality before she left them to settle in, but not before they passed lingering looks at one another. He very much wanted to follow her and continue their conversation, but he knew she had duties with so many new visitors.

He had duties, as well.

There would be time enough for their continued reunion later.

The chamber he and Will and Brodie had settled in was crowded, but not so crowded that a table and a chair had been worked into the corner. There was a pewter pitcher there, a thick and heavy thing, and three cups. Will