Page 113 of Fate

“A family matter,” Lucian repeated. “Was precisely what we were attending to before you made your appearance. Uninvited, I might remind you.” Another step, and his hand pulled from hers, and she let it, because she would not clutch at him, grasp at him. Not when something needed saying.

A poison pulled from a wound that had festered far too long. “You wanted to pluck me out of our family line. Disinherit me, leave without means to provide for myself or my mate. Deny my right to our ancestral home.” His words were tight, but he was not caught in a rage. Truth, harshly spoken, but no less honest. “But I have made a remarkable discovery along the way.”

He waited, allowing his father to shift his weight and give him his attention, a lone brow raised in question. “The family I care to keep followedme.” Ellena’s hand came to her chest, where Firen was certain the bond throbbed with Oberon’s displeasure. “Your line will end with you. And someday you will regret your actions, of that I am certain. Most especially when mine has gone on.” His head turned, but just a fraction. “When ours has gone on,” he amended, and Firen’s heart filled with warmth.

He sounded so certain, and those little doubts eased. That he was indulging her, that he agreed only to please her.

He wanted it.

Someday.

And shewaspatient. Would be.

Because it mattered to her for them both to be ready. For him to not be exhausted from days spent in the Hall, with no hours left to devote to loving their fledgling.

Loving her.

And if selfishness was the fuel for her patience, was that such a bad thing? To want to covet his time and his attention, and be willing to wait for when she could have plenty of each?

It took a great deal to stay where she was. Not to go after him and take his hand again, or maybe his arm, and thank him for his words. His promises.

Because that’s what they were.

For her. For Oberon.

He did not answer immediately. Merely watched his son and mulled over his words, and she wondered if that was one of his tactics or if Lucian had been chastened into silence. Ellena did not seem to know who to look at, her attention drifting between both men, her hand creeping up toward her throat as the quiet wore on.

“Go home,” Ellena tried again. “Please. No good can come of staying.” The anger had drained out of her, leaving only a weary sort of plea that Oberon ignored with only a flicker of his eyes in her direction.

“The Hall, then. You and I will meet in private. To finish this discussion.”

Lucian rolled his shoulders, and glanced upward. Praying for patience, perhaps? Or merely trying to keep hold of his own temper. “What do you imagine will change when we are alone?”

Oberon did not answer immediately, but when it came, Firen had to struggle to keep hold of her own response. “Alone, you will not be trying to impress your mate. To do what you must to keep her willing and pliant. It will be more... productive.”

Firen could not see Lucian’s expression, but she saw the tightening in his shoulders, the tremble in his wings. “Enough,” he said at last. “There will be no private meeting. When our work in the Halls demands our discourse, I will allow it. Other than that, we are finished.”

He turned, and Firen braced herself for more of Oberon’s vitriol, but Ellena stood between them.

Grabbed hold of his face and brought his attention down to her.

“Enough,” she insisted, repeating Lucian’s sentiment. “For today.” One of her hands drifted down his chest, where she laid a hand over their bond. Whatever manipulation she offered internally, Firen could not guess, but she held his attention and that seemed to be her aim. “We will go home,” she insisted. “Let matters settle.”

Firen could not say he softened. But his mouth twitched, and he seemed to truly see Ellena rather than fight to keep his attention of his wayward son and his apparent challenge.

“Did you think I would not know you came here?” he asked her, his voice lower. Not quite as mocking, but not what Firen might consider gentle, either. “That I would not know you had seen him?”

Ellena closed her eyes, but only briefly. “I would have told you. Afterward. I would have a tray sent and we would have shared it and you’d get to feel how happy I was for a little while.” Her smile was a sad, wistful thing. “But you couldn’t wait, could you?”

He grunted. Took her chin between two fingers, and placed a kiss upon her lips. It was the most affection Firen had seen fromthem, but she could not decide if it was genuinely given. Ellena did not relax beneath his touch, but watched, waiting to see if he might yield to her request.

“Home,” he said at last, putting his arm about Ellena’s shoulder and bringing her to his side. She smiled, and Firen could not deny the relief she saw there, but that was not all. She was sorry their meeting was at an end. Worried it might not happen ever again.

Firen wanted to reach for her. To bring her back and offer her a proper embrace. Whisper promises of her welcome, that she did not blame her for today, that they’d try again soon.

But she couldn’t.

That was not her mating, and Ellena had to navigate it how she thought best.