Page 46 of Vow to Claim You

Not the arrangement.

Not the obligation.

My wife.

He says it out loud. In front of Nikos and Hyun-seok. In front of Serena. In front of Chiara. And the way he says it… sounds like a claim.

We arrive back in Norway, and a waiting car drives us from the airfield to the estate. The cold greets me the moment I step outside, sharp enough to steal my breath, just as it did the day I first arrived.

This time, I don’t mind. If anything, it feels like washing Italy off my skin.

Before I can even take another step, a blur of white and gray barrels toward me.

“El—” I barely get the name out before Elske reaches me, her massive body skidding to a halt at my legs. She presses her head against my thighs, tail sweeping the snow behind her like a banner.

I freeze for half a second. Then I kneel, my gloved hands sinking into thick fur, and she lets out a low, pleased sound that vibrates straight through me.

Only then does she trot toward Aric.

“Traitor,” he mutters dryly, but something changes at the corner of his mouth. Barely perceptible, yet I’ve grown accustomed to his ghost smiles by now. He doesn’t reach for her or bend to greet her, yet she presses herself against his leg all the same.

We enter the foyer, and instantly, a smell of ginger hits my nose.

Two servants slip forward to lift our coats from our shoulders. I let mine go and follow Aric down the corridor toward the living room, my heels echoing against the dark wooden floor. The hearth is already burning when we reach it, gold spilling onto wood, and the air is heavier here with that warm ginger note clinging to everything.

“Ingrid’s already made tea,” a familiar voice reaches me from behind. Before I can turn fully, Ingrid presses a warm cup of ginger tea into my hands. It’s her signature remedy for everything from cold nights to bad news.

“Drink.” She smiles. “You look pale.”

I do. I can feel it.

“Thank you,” I murmur, fingers tightening around the porcelain as the heat seeps in.

Behind her, Eero passes Aric, bumping his shoulder as he goes. Not enough to be accidental. Aric doesn’t look at him, but his lips curve slightly. For one brief, dangerous moment, something settles in my chest.

This place. This strange rhythm. The way Ingrid fusses, the way Eero lingers, the way even the wolf accepts me. I could almost imagine myself belonging here.

Almost.

Because then Vidar appears. He stands at the edge of the space like a shadow given shape, his presence cutting cleanly through whatever fragile illusion I was building.

“What are you going to do about Luca?” He frowns at Aric, voice stern.

The tea burns my tongue as I swallow.

The air changes. I know Luca isn’t just a person here. He’s a problem. A loose end.

“I’ll handle it,” Aric says, as though the decision has already been made.

Vidar’s gaze shifts to me, sharp and assessing, and I understand without needing to be told. This conversation is not for me.

I lower the cup carefully onto the table, my fingers steady even as my chest tightens. I don’t look at Vidar. I look at Aric instead, and somehow, he meets my eyes as if in sync.

“I’ll excuse myself,” I state, already stepping back, and Aric nods slightly.

As I walk away, the warmth of the tea fades, replaced by the familiar weight that’s followed me since the altar.

I wait in my bedroom. It’s been about thirty minutes. I keep glancing at my phone, checking the hour every half a minute. I can’t settle, knowing they’re discussing Luca’s fate. I wonder if Aric will keep his promise and save—or at least, try to—Luca’s life as he did Chiara’s.