EMBER’S POV

The food is served alongside some wine.

Silas sits across from us, nursing a glass of amber liquid. He looks exhausted, but his eyes soften when they land on me.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, picking at the food on my plate. “For my mother. For how she spoke to you.”

“Nonsense,” Silas snorts, waving a hand. “Do not apologise for Devika. I grew up with her, remember? I knew the monster before she even grew teeth.” He takes a sip of his drink, intentionally lightening the air. “Though I must say, seeing my niece sitting here with the Lycan King… our ancestors are violently rolling in their...