Page 106 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

Quinn arrives around forty minutes later, bounding through the door as though he lives here, too. He looks astonished to see us. Ophelia hugs him first, and Oisin’s eyes narrow on his arms around her waist, but Quinn shoots him a glare as though he knows exactly what is going on.

It is likely he has already figured it out. I have never met a wolf so instinctively in tune with the fae, so tied to his base nature. He hugs Dante, too, but does not give me the same warning glare he gave Oisin. Likely because I do not mind; they are pack, and I know what that means.

Vladimir lets go of Grant reluctantly, but then uses the chance to lever himself up into one of the chairs. Grant and Quinn hold on to each other for a long time, and when they part, Quinn curls his hands over Grant’s shoulders, keeping him in place.

“No one else would have looked after them as well as you did. You know that, right?”

Grant sniffles. Quinn hugs him again, then pushes him gently in Vladimir’s direction, where Grant collapses onto his lap.

“We’ll come by at some point,” Dante says. “Might need your help with the rest of it.”

“After tomorrow,” Vladimir growls when Grant opens his mouth—clearly to agree. “You are not leaving this house until at least tomorrow night.”

“Yeah, it’ll be after that, for sure.”

Quinn says goodbye to Jeremiah, too, and leads us all out to the car. Ophelia takes the seat up front, next to him, and Oisin sits on the left behind her. Dante leans against me and I wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. There is much still for us to talk about, but that will not happen right now. He will want to see his family and reassure them that he is safe. There is a chance, however small, that his alpha will not allow me near the pack at all.

I kiss his purple curls and he lets out a sigh, one hand gripping my leg tightly. None of that matters. Not so long as he is safe.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Dante

Anxiety twists in my stomach as we walk through the wards and up to the building door. I don’t know why I’m nervous. I’ve lived here for a couple of years now. I’ve known Sam basically my entire adult life, which means I’ve known Kieran, while not as well, for just about as long. Ophelia’s parents like me, and my mums are here, and Felix might be a dick about it, but he wouldn’t have rushed down here if he didn’t care.

Lark takes hold of my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “What is it?” he murmurs.

I shake my head. I’m being silly. We’ve been gone, what, two days? Three? It’s hard to remember properly. It feels like it’s been months, somehow.

What if Lark decides the bond between us doesn’t matter now that we’re back? Sure, we have to find the people who are supposed to wear the crowns, but beyond that… He had his own life before. And it’s been three days. God.

He frowns over at me, and I realise in a sudden rush that he might be able to feel all that now. I don’t have time to dwell on it. We reach the door of Kieran and Lucien’s flat, and Quinn doesn’t hesitate to swing it open, walking inside first.

Ophelia’s just behind him. She’s been chatting to him to temper her own nerves, I think. I know she’s mostly okay, but she did get kidnapped and held for a while before we got there. Sure, Oisin didn’t hurt her, but it must have been terrifying.

Her parents are already hugging her by the time we walk through the door. Felix hovers just next to them—out of her mum’s impressive reach, I notice—and he grins when I walk in with Lark. Lark doesn’t drop my hand, and Felix homes in on the touch, that grin turning a little evil.

“Told you that you’d do it,” he says instead of whatever else I’m expecting, and the hug he gives me is unexpected, too. Lark does let go then, if only so I can pat a hand against Felix’s satin-clad back.

My mums are there after, Mamma already crying, but Mum gives me a wary once-over and a kiss to my forehead before she turns her attention to Lark. Through it all, Oisin stays back, unobtrusive, and when I look around, I see Kieran sitting in his usual chair, Lucien by his side. He raises his eyebrows and smiles when he sees me looking.

Drew approaches slowly. Mamma is still talking, saying she’s glad that I’m back, asking if I’m injured, if everything is okay… But he walks over to Lark, not me, and his hands twitch as he clearly fights the urge to reach out.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he says. Adam watches from the sofa, eyes narrowed. I know that look, and I know now that it’s unwarranted.

“I am glad to be back,” Lark replies, then pats Drew’s shoulder gently. Drew stares at him, startled. “I always planned for them to return safely.”

Mum relaxes a little at that. Not like Lark can lie, and she seems to know that, too.

“No, you—I didn’t open the café,” Drew says, the words a sudden rush. “I didn’t know if I was supposed to, and then I didn’t want to if you weren’t there. People would miss you, you know? If you hadn’t come back.”

“Oh.” Lark blinks and his glamour flickers, just for a second. “I would miss you, too.”

I don’t think Drew can help himself. He hugs Lark tightly, and Lark huffs and pats his back slightly more awkwardly than I did Felix’s a moment ago. Adam beams from the sofa. No doubt Drew has been fretting about all of us since we left.

“All right,” Kieran says. “Let him go. Don’t want to squeeze the life out of him.”

Drew blinks wet eyes. “Oh, sorry. I should have—Sorry.”