Page 148 of Bound

She hated it. Every step she took. The racing of her heart, the absolute insistence in each breath this was a mistake, she was doing something wrong, she would be far safer to just go and...

She felt a kiss on the top of her head.

And she closed her eyes and let him keep her moving.

And it was glorious.

To let him be her comfort and her strength. To have someone else to make the decision on what was right and what was best and not to have to think and worry and pick apart every little detail and their consequences.

For once, just to be.

To watch her father’s face light up as he saw her approach.

For him to cross the distance and pull her close.

“Wren,” he breathed.

And there was a part of her that wanted to ask why he’d never brought her. Why he’d never tried harder to make her a part of this world.

But she didn’t.

It was a talk they might have later. When she was ready to hear that perhaps Mama was a little more responsible for that as well.

But maybe...

It didn’t matter so much at all.

All of them bowed heads to one another.

And although the boys hung back, casting looks between their mother and father as if uncertain of how to react to her sudden presence. But that was all right. She didn’t know what to think or how to feel, either.

Other than...

Her father’s mate reached out and grasped her hand tightly. “Wren,” she greeted, her smile soft. She was not the villain a fledgling Wren had conjured in her mind, so filled with hurt and anger at a situation so entirely outside her control. Not as bold as Braum’s mother. Gentle. Perhaps even a little bit fragile. “I’m so pleased to meet you.”

Wren swallowed. She should say something back. Something kind and not antagonistic. All too aware of her father coming up behind his mate, his hand at the small of her back just as Braum’s was on hers.

Was she pleased? Had she wanted this?

She couldn’t pretend she had.

But there was something about her. Something that made it impossible to be anything but gentle in return. “Me too,” she managed and found that it was true. Not that there was relief in it. Not that there was the same sense of family and belonging as she’d felt that night as she’d been enveloped by Braum’s relations.

But she wouldn’t have to wonder. The meeting was done and all the rest...

It could be whatever she wanted.

They did not linger for long. There were no drawn out introductions as names were passed between parties. But there were smiles, some forced, others not. She gave her father one last embrace and then allowed her new family to sweep her off to yet another stall, while Braum whispered in her ear that he was proud of her.

She’d done it. And she’d survived. And when a mug of something frothy and sweet was passed into her hands and she took three deep pulls of it, her heart began to calm, and she decided she was rather proud of herself, too.

???

They’d been invited to stay. First at Braum’s parents, then by Kessa. Well, not precisely Kessa. Instead, it had been her youngest, a little girl with bright eyes and a ready smile, who insisted that Wren could sleep in her bed if she wanted, and they might have griddled cakes in the morning since those were the best sort.

Which began an argument with her elder brother that they most certainly were not, and the best came from the oven, and she was silly for thinking otherwise.

It was late. And even the sky-dancers with their bodies covered in fabric studded with chips of moonstones were not enough for fledglings long beyond their bedtimes.