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

many years ago before the church took it over. There was a big, round tower with tiny windows towards the top and the entire complex was surrounded by a masonry wall that was quite tall, having been built and reinforced by the Earl of Northumbria. There was a massive gate in the wall, heavy oak and fortified by thick iron strips. As Brodie ordered the escort to spread out and dispatched a few scouts to comb the area, Andreas helped Gavriella off her horse and, along with Will and Gareth, approached the gate.

There was a big iron bell attached to the wall next to the gate. It was meant to be used if a child was dropped off, but Andreas rang the bell loudly. As the echoes sounded off the walls, off the top of the tower, he looked at Gavriella, standing next to him.

He was holding her hand, but she was squeezing his hard enough to cut off circulation. Even through his gloves, he could feel it.

Her nerves had the better of her.

“Do not fret,” he said softly. “We shall have the child back in no time.”

She looked at him, her expression strained even though she was trying to smile. “I know,” she said. “I simply… God, Dray, you have no concept of how much it tore me apart when my father ordered my son away. He was so young… only a few weeks old. I know I should have hated the babe and I should have wanted him to disappear because of the violence he reminded me of but, as I told you, he was innocent. He was a victim as much as I was. But I will admit that when I first realized I had conceived, I prayed that I would lose the pregnancy.”

He squeezed her hand. “That is understandable,” he said softly. “What changed your mind?”

Her smile turned real. A soft, gentle gesture. “When I first felt him move,” she said. “Something changed at that moment. I am not sure why, but it did. When he was born, it wasn’t as difficult as I had been told. He came right out and when I looked in his face, I understood the meaning of true love. I… I’ve never really had that. Someone to love me, I mean. Not even my father does. But Storm… he was all mine and he loved me, and I loved him.”

“Storm?”

She nodded. “That is his name,” she said. “He was born on a stormy April morning, so I named him Storm. Mayhap someday, he will harness the wind as a great knight.”

Andreas smiled. “He will be raised as a de Wolfe,” he said quietly. “Storm de Wolfe. Does this displease you?”

She shook her head, gazing up at him. “Nay,” she said. “It is the greatest blessing I could ask for. That you are willing to treat him as your own. Truly, Dray… your compassion is astounding. I am humbled in the face of it.”

He lifted her hand, kissing it. “It is I who am humbled,” he murmured. “And you have someone to love you in me. Don’t you realize that?”

She nodded, her free hand coming up to touch his face, so sweetly and so tenderly. “I do,” she said. “But I still think I am dreaming.”

“If you are, then we are dreaming together.”

She grinned just as a small door within the gate lurched open and a small, wimpled face appeared.

“What does thee wish?” came a quiet voice.

Andreas shifted from the besotted lover to the imposing knight in a heartbeat. He peered at the face on the other side.

“My name is Andreas de Wolfe,” he said. “My aunt and uncle are the Earl and Countess of Northumbria. Please admit us.”

The woman didn’t move right away. She was trying to see the men in the darkness and what they were wearing. When Andreas realized that, he stood back and opened his cloak so she could see his de Wolfe tunic. It was one of the most recognizable in northern England.

That was enough to open the gate.

Andreas entered, leading Gavriella by the hand, followed by Will and finally Gareth. Brodie and Corey remained outside with the men. The tiny nun closed the gate, motioning for her guests to follow.

“Come with me,” she said, heading for the tower.

They pursued the woman into the stout, round tower. The entry level was surprisingly roomy, with a big entry chamber that had an enormous hearth and then a secondary chamber off that, containing a long table and sturdy benches. It was the dining hall. As the old woman bolted the door behind them, a woman in robes came down the stairs. She was swathed in unbleached wool from head to toe, her face round and rosy as she focused on the visitors.

“I am Sister Fiona,” she said. “May I ask what brings thee at this late hour?”

Andreas didn’t even have a chance to respond because Gavriella recognized her. She rushed the woman.

“Do you remember me?” she said, nearly plowing the woman over in her eagerness. “My name is Gavriella de Leia and you came to Falstone Castle last year to collect my son. He was newly born and my father forced me to give him over to you. Do you remember? His name was Storm. I told you that before you took him away.”

There was a plea in her tone. Begging. She wanted the woman to remember her so badly and the woman, in fact, studied her closely for a moment.

“Falstone,” Sister Fiona said slowly. “A newly born infant, male.”

“Aye!”

Sister Fiona nodded. “I remember,” she said. “Thou were quite distraught, as I recall. Thou asked me to take good care of thy little boy.”

Gavriella nodded quickly. “I did,” she said, tears stinging her eyes. “I have come to retrieve him. I am to marry Sir Andreas. He is a de Wolfe. His aunt and uncle are patrons of this charity. Please… may I have my son?”

The sister’s focus lingered on her a moment, her features conveying surprise. Her