Chapter Twenty-Two

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Ashendon

“G od,” Tate groaned. “I should have known something was amiss when we discussed Christelle. You could see it all over Leo’s face.”

Seated in the solar after Leonidas had departed to send Christelle along her way, Phillipa confessed the entire situation to Tate and Edward and the rest of the men. The only one who didn’t seem surprised by it was Kenneth, because he had seen Leonidas and Christelle on their travels to Hull. He had seen what was transpiring, though he hadn’t realized how far it had gone.

“I know,” Phillipa said with sorrow. “That is why I thought I should tell you once he was out of the chamber. Sending Christelle away is going to be devastating for him. I hope you realize that.”

Tate looked at her with some doubt. “How serious is this, your grace?”

Phillipa could only shrug. “Truthfully, I have never seen either of them so happy,” she said. “All of us have that one person meant for us in this world and it’s a miracle if we find them. I have been fortunate enough to find my person, as have you.”

“Indeed, I have.”

“Can you imagine what your life would be like without Toby?”

Tate shook his head, closing his eyes tightly. “I cannot,” he said. “It makes me ill to think on it.”

“Then you can imagine how Leo feels right now,” Phillipa said softly. “I do believe he found his person in Christelle, and she with him. As much as I hated to tell him the truth, I had to. I had no choice.”

Tate’s gaze lingered on the young queen, so full of heart. He could see that she was genuinely broken up about the situation.

“You are not to blame,” he said. “It is not your fault. The only person at blame here is Christelle.”

Phillipa looked away. “Mayhap,” she said. “Mayhap not. I allowed her to remain even after I knew who, and what, she was. That is my fault for letting her remain so long.”

Tate shook his head. “Your reasoning was sound,” he said. “There is an old saying—keep your friends close and your enemies closer. You were watching her as much as she was watching you. I applaud your logic.”

“Then we should be more like the queen,” Kenneth said, moving out of the shadows where he had been lingering. “We should be logical about this situation and leave the emotion out of it. I feel that we have a great opportunity now that we must not let slip away.”

Everyone turned to him, king and queen included. “What is it, Ken?” Edward wanted to know. “What do you have in mind?”

Kenneth looked at the young monarch, a lad he’d watched grow up. Literally. Edward was now nearly taller than he was, which was saying something. The young man had grown considerably over the past couple of years, very much a man these days. He looked like one and thought like one. It was no longer a matter of telling the young king what to do because, these days, he was giving the orders.

Therefore, Kenneth addressed him accordingly.

“Let us assume a few things, your grace,” he said. “Leo is, at this very moment, telling Christelle to leave Ashendon. When she does, the assumption is that she will go to her father in the town. Does that seem logical?”

Everyone nodded, Edward most of all. “And?” he said.

“And when she goes to her father, it would also be logical that they discuss the situation,” Kenneth continued. “Not only will they discuss what has happened, but they will probably make additional plans. Mayhap to even get Christelle back into Phillipa’s good graces. Do you not think we should know those plans as well?”

Edward had to think about what he was suggesting. “Of course we should,” he said. “But how?”

“Do to her what she did to us,” Stephen spoke up. He knew exactly what Kenneth was leading to. “We spy.”

Edward’s eyes widened with realization. “We go to the tavern where her father is?”

Kenneth and Stephen nodded. “Doesn’t the missive say where he will be?” Kenneth said.

“It did,” Phillipa said helpfully. “He will be at The Flying Fish.”

“Then two of us must go to the tavern and conceal our identities,” Kenneth said. “Find a place in the common room and observe. The remaining two will follow Christelle to make sure she arrives. Once she and her father converge, we must decide how to listen to the conversation.”

Tate nodded with approval. “It may help us to know what the French are planning,” he said. “You are correct, Ken. This could be a grand opportunity for us. But you mentioned four men—are we taking Edward with us?”

“Leo.”

Tate almost hesitated, but quickly thought better of it. “He is a knight above all things,” he said. “This situation may be painful for him, but it cannot be helped. We cannot waste this opportunity. Ken, find him and inform him of our decision. And I am putting you personally in charge of keeping track of Christelle. If Leo has already dismissed her, then find her. Quickly. I do not want to lose sight of her.”

Kenneth was already on his feet, heading for the door. “Right away, Tate.”

“If she is on the move, then you and Leo can follow her into town,” Tate called after him. “Stephen and I will figure out a way into The Flying Fish without her seeing us. We’ll meet you there.”

Kenneth was on the move. He headed out to the bailey, where he saw Catherine and Gabriel coming in through the gatehouse, arms full of chickens. They were very proud to show Kenneth, who wasn’t compassionate enough to return real interest in a pet chicken. But he patted Gabriel on the top of his bushy red head and the lad ran toward the keep, but Kenneth stopped Catherine long enough to ask her where Leonidas was. She pointed outside of the walls and he thanked her.

As Catherine continued toward the keep, Kenneth went to the gatehouse and sent a couple of soldiers running for his and Leonidas’ weapons. He wasn’t sure the man was already armed, but he didn’t think so, and he continued outside the walls. Since the castle was on a rise, the road, as it moved around the castle, was below him by about twenty feet. He could look down the slope and see that there wasn’t anything other than the usual traffic on the roadway. Rounding the side of the castle walls, he immediately spied Leonidas and Christelle as they stood several feet apart and spoke to one another. Leonidas had his back to him, but he saw quite clearly when Christelle suddenly tossed her sword along the ground in Leonidas’ direction and plunged to her knees.

That brought Kenneth’s concern and curiosity.

He was close enough to the wall and its defensive buttresses that he could have ducked behind one and they wouldn’t see him, but they weren’t looking at anything other than each another. He saw Leonidas pick up Christelle’s sword and charge at her with it lifted, and it occurred to him that he was about to watch the woman get her head cut off. Shocked, he watched it play out because he couldn’t really believe Leonidas would kill Christelle. At least, he hoped not, for the man’s sake, and he was thankful to be right. Leonidas eventually tossed the sword away.

Kenneth had to admit that he breathed a sigh of relief.

But that wasn’t the end of it. There was some conversation going on between them and Leonidas was quite animated about it. Kenneth saw clearly when Leonidas turned his back on Christelle and she stood up, making her way down the slope to the road beyond. She had her hands on her face, and Kenneth could only assume that she was weeping. Indeed, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what had just happened.

A very sad scene, indeed.

Kenneth watched Christelle head down the road before returning his attention to Leonidas. The man was still standing where she had left him, and as he watched, he wiped at his face. That told Kenneth that Leonidas, too, was suffering through a few tears, so he gave the man some space. He went over to the edge of the rise to watch Christelle as she made it about halfway to the town before sitting down on the side of the road.

And there she remained.

When Kenneth was fairly certain she wasn’t going to jump up and start running, he made the decision to interrupt Leonidas, because a plan was in the works and he needed to be part of it.

He’d given the man enough time to compose himself.

“Leo?” Kenneth called to him when he was still a good distance away. “I bear news.”

He wanted to give Leonidas enough time to wipe away any emotional residue, but Leonidas turned to him with a wet face and red eyes. It wasn’t like Kenneth could ignore it.

He had no choice but to acknowledge the obvious.

“Phillipa told us what has happened,” he said, his voice quiet. “If there is anything I can do to help, I hope you will tell me.”

Leonidas sniffled, wiping at both eyes with the back of right hand. “There is nothing,” he said. “Although I know you mean well, I would prefer not to discuss it.”

“Of course, Leo,” Kenneth said in a surprising show of compassion. “But I’m afraid the news I bear might make that difficult.”

Leonidas took a deep breath, a final attempt to compose himself, and looked at him. “What news?”

“We are to follow Christelle into town,” Kenneth said. “Tate and Stephen are joining us. Undoubtedly, the lady is going to go to see her father. Tate believes we should use the situation to our advantage to see if we can listen in on any conversation and find what the French are planning.”

Leonidas stared at him a moment, perhaps in horror, before letting out a long, heavy sigh. “Of course,” he said. “That makes perfect sense.”

Kenneth couldn’t let him linger on the situation, not when time was of the essence. “Then come with me,” he said. “The lady is on foot and so shall we be, but I’ve sent soldiers for our weapons.”

“Good thinking,” Leonidas said, but he sounded dull and weary. “Ken… I apologize that you have seen me like this. I am not a weak man by nature.”

Kenneth looked at him sharply. “You are one of the strongest men I know,” he said. “There is no need to apologize. I’m simply sorry that you have had to endure so much tragedy lately. I truly am.”

Leonidas nodded, a silent acknowledgement of Kenneth’s sympathy, and they began to head in the direction of the road. Kenneth could see that Christelle was still sitting on the side of the dirt avenue, which was a good thing. She hadn’t moved. He stood there, watching, turning to say something to Leonidas, only to see that the man was looking at his feet. He couldn’t even look down the road, to see the woman he loved in such agony and knowing there was nothing he was willing to do about it. Nothing he could do about it.

And now he was expected to use that agony like a weapon.

Soldiers spilled forth from the gatehouse, carrying broadswords with them. Kenneth hadn’t asked for more than that, no mail or armor, although both he and Leonidas were wearing mail breeches and heavy, padded tunics. Just no mail coat, which was only donned when they traveled or went into battle. He hoped there wouldn’t be a confrontation, but it couldn’t be helped. He strapped on his broadsword as Leonidas strapped on his. Kenneth took another look down the road to see Christelle still sitting there.

They settled in for the wait.

As the day began to wane, Tate and Stephen emerged from the castle and joined the vigil. That gave Kenneth and Leonidas the opportunity to return to their cottages and don the rest of their mail. They were almost finished when a soldier came running all the way from the gatehouse to tell them that Tate and Stephen had departed for the town, meaning Christelle must have moved and they followed. That bit of news had Leonidas and Kenneth running for the stables to collect their horses. They were to be the forward team that was already in place when Christelle reached The Flying Fish.

They were going to have to hurry.

Just north of the castle, the road that ran alongside it branched out. A smaller road headed west, and from that road, they were able to take a path that led to the western side of town. Tethering their horses at the back of the tavern, they entered the establishment through the rear and took a table in one of the corners, facing the main entry, and they saw quite plainly, about an hour later, when Christelle entered.

By that time, it was completely dark outside and the place was full of fishermen and patrons wanting to eat and drink away a hard day’s work. The smell of fish and onions was heavy on the air, which only made Leonidas relive the memories of the two weeks they’d spent aboard the cog. Cloaks on, hoods down, they watched Christelle ask a couple of serving wenches a question. The first one didn’t seem to have an answer, but the second one did. She pointed to the east side of the common room where the sleeping chambers were.

Christelle headed into the darkened corridor.

“Go,” Kenneth whispered.

They were up, moving through the crowd, coming to the edge of the corridor in time to see Christelle being admitted into the chamber that was closest to the common room. When she went inside and shut the door, Leonidas turned to Kenneth.

“Get as close as you can to that door,” he whispered. “I’ll find Tate and we’ll figure out which chamber window faces the street.”

Kenneth waggled his blond eyebrows. “Thank the saints that it is on the ground floor, eh?”

“That makes our task far easier.”

Kenneth headed into the shadowed corridor while Leonidas went outside, quickly spying Tate and Stephen in the livery two doors down. With his face camouflaged by his hood, Leonidas headed down the street, ducking into the livery once he reached it.

“She’s gone inside a chamber with a window that faces the street,” he told them. “The windowsill is about five feet off the road, so we should be able to get underneath it.”

Tate nodded. “That’s a stroke of good luck,” he said. “At least they aren’t in a chamber over our heads.”

“That is exactly what Ken and I were saying to one another.”

“Where is Ken?”

“Trying to get near the interior door so he can listen in.”

Tate turned to Stephen. “Join him,” he said, watching the tall knight rush off. Then he turned back to Leonidas. “You and I can listen from the street.”

Leonidas nodded. “Quickly,” he said. “She has just been admitted.”

He seemed to be in professional mode. At least, that was what Tate thought. Leonidas seemed very much in control of himself, and the truth was that Tate expected nothing less. He didn’t want to say anything to him about Christelle, not when they were in the heat of a mission like they were right now. Somehow, it didn’t seem appropriate. But later, in private, he would. However, given what Phillipa had told them, he found it hard to believe that there was ever a love affair between Leonidas and Christelle. From the way Leonidas was acting, he would have never known.

Perhaps it hadn’t been that serious after all.

Leonidas was in the lead as they made their way down to the tavern with its wattle and daub walls and exposed, painted beams. Silently, Leonidas indicated which window it was and they got up underneath the sill, listening to what was a rather loud conversation in parts.

Someone was very unhappy.

“And what did you do to convince her that you were not a spy? Did you try to convince her that she misread the missives? Better still, did you stress that her actions were wrong?”

Leonidas had no idea who was speaking. The voice sounded thin and full of angst. But he heard, very clearly, when Christelle responded in her soft, steady tone.

“Her actions were not wrong. As I told you, she did not speak directly to me about this. I was told by one of her knights. He is the one who banished me rather than execute me. A man who taught me the important things in life, like honesty and loyalty. I owe him everything.”

Hearing those words were like daggers. Tiny little daggers being flung out of the window and into his body, where the pain was unbearable. He realized that he was more than likely going to hear everything she wanted to tell him but he hadn’t let her. He had shut her up because there was nothing she could say that could prompt him to believe her or even forgive her. But it further occurred to him that everything he was hearing wasn’t for his benefit.

These were Christelle’s own words, unrehearsed.

Painfully honest.

He lowered his head, closing his eyes as he listened to the conversation, which was shockingly clear. No muffled voices, no whispers. He heard Christelle speak of Phillipa’s discovery, how she knew Christelle was a spy, and he heard at least two men badgering her on why she hadn’t tried to lie her way out of it. Christelle remained firm about it, giving them the honorable answer Leonidas had so believed she was capable of. That sounded more like the Christelle he’d fallen in love with. Fearless in the face of adversity.

That was the young woman who had risked her life to save a drowning child.

Christy.

The pain he’d been trying to fight off was now embedding itself in him, like the talons of a falcon into its prey. He was feeling the physical pain now, something he was struggling not to surrender to. Hearing the words of truth from a young woman he’d believed in, once. Perhaps the truth was that he had always believed in her, even when Phillipa had told him the truth. There was a huge part of him that hadn’t wanted to believe any of it because that wasn’t the Christelle he knew. But he couldn’t refute the evidence. That terrible, confusing evidence.

But then he heard something that caused him to open his eyes.

“Your arrival in town is fortuitous because I was going to send you a missive telling you that I refuse to spy on Phillipa any longer. Now I can tell you face to face.”

Leonidas lifted his head, locking gazes with Tate as he did so. The two of them stared at one another as they both heard the same thing—a declaration from Christelle of her true intentions. Words that weren’t spoken in desperation, only honesty.

But those honest words weren’t well met by those she was speaking to.

There was a good deal of back and forth after that, with a man who was obviously Christelle’s father and also another man she had called her father’s dog. There was also the mention of someone else, someone named Mort, but if he was in the chamber, he had yet to make a sound.

Then the Blackchurch confession came out.

After that, the argument began to grow more intense. The more Leonidas listened, the more he began to transform from betrayed lover to the man who could only see that the woman he loved was in a difficult position. Repeatedly, he’d heard her tell her father that all she wanted to do was live a true and decent life, and repeatedly, he scorned her for it. She spoke of finding a decent man and having children, something that sang to Leonidas’ heart, because up until earlier that day, he had also been having visions of his future with her. He was a true and decent man. He was her man.

Do you love me enough to forgive me?

She’d asked him that question, once, and his answer had been unkind. But after the unsolicited confession he’d just heard from her as part of this conversation, he was more than willing to change his answer to the affirmative.

Yes, he did love her enough to forgive her.

Everyone made mistakes.

She clearly wanted to learn from hers.

But then came the biggest confession of all.

“I tried for years to please a man who would never be pleased. But now… now, it is my mark of greatness. You think I have shamed you, and I am happy you think so. Bernard, I do not want to follow you into the dark underbelly of politics any longer. Before, I had no choice, but now I do. I realize now that I want to live in the light, with people who are good and decent. Decent like Phillipa, who is the kindest, most genuinely caring person I have ever met. She lives in the light. I want to be more like her. That was a side of life that you never introduced me to.”

Leonidas had to smile when heard that. It sounded so much like the Christelle he knew.

The one he loved.

In fact, he was losing himself in the relief of forgiveness when they heard a slapping sound and something hit the floor. Startled, both he and Tate tried to listen a little closer to what was going on. Fortunately, the sun had gone down and the street was mostly barren, so their activity wasn’t terribly obvious, but that wouldn’t last forever.

They had to figure out what was happening before their cover was blown.

More conversation, this time about Phillipa and the child that she carried. It took very little time for them to realize there was a fight going on inside the chamber, and Leonidas instinctively put his hand to the hilt of his sword, preparing to go to battle. Christelle was in that chamber and he knew she wasn’t armed. Her sword was still lying in the field north of the castle. But the moment he put his hand on his sword, Tate reached out to stop him.

The Earl of Carlisle had other ideas.

Silently, Tate motioned his intentions—that he was going to try to catch a peek at what was going on inside the chamber. Leonidas kept an eye out on their surroundings as Tate stood up and peered into the chamber through the slats in the window shutters. It took him all of a few seconds to see what was going on, and when he did, he grabbed Leonidas by the arm.

“Inside, now, or she dies,” he whispered. “Leo , go !”

Leonidas didn’t hesitate. He launched himself through the wooden shutters, through the window, and burst into the chamber just as a big knight twice the size of Christelle smashed her head against the floor. As she lay there, limp and bleeding, the wolfe on the hunt went to work. Sword in an offensive position, Leonidas flashed his fangs before attacking the man who had injured Christelle. The knight didn’t have time to unsheathe his sword, but he lifted an arm to protect himself and Leonidas sliced right through it. As the man bellowed in pain and his left hand fell to the floor, severed, the chamber door burst open.

Kenneth and Stephen barreled in.

There were swords flying all over the place, and in the middle of it, men were screaming. Bernard, who was armed, was the first to be cut down by Kenneth, who only saw what Leonidas saw—Christelle on the floor with blood on her head. Gautier proved to be a little more difficult for Stephen because he managed to unsheathe his weapon, but he was no match for the tall, powerful knight. That left Leonidas going after the warrior who had attacked Christelle as Tate launched himself through the window with the sole intention of removing the wounded woman from the chamber.

With Kenneth and Stephen dragging Bernard and Gautier out of the chamber, Tate followed with a limp Christelle. Leonidas, however, had his hands full with a man whose missing hand only seemed to enrage him. He wasn’t as big as Leonidas was, or as skilled, but he had a beastly fury that fed his survival instinct.

He was formidable.

A kick to Leonidas’ thigh had sent him stumbling back enough that his opponent could unsheathe his broadsword. He was right-handed, so the missing left hand didn’t matter. All it did was spray blood all over the walls, the ceiling, the floor, and Leonidas. The warrior was crazed with pain and fury, and Leonidas found himself fighting off a serious offensive. But the truth was that no one was a match for a de Wolfe in battle, and after several hard strikes and chops, Leonidas charged forward, slammed an elbow into his opponent’s nose, and then used his sword to spill the man’s guts all over the chamber floor.

And that was the end of it.

Without hesitation, Leonidas vaulted back out through the window in time to catch sight of Kenneth and Stephen dumping bodies in the river. He shouted and they turned to see him, pointing toward the livery two doors down.

Leonidas raced into the livery.

Tate had just laid Christelle down on some clean straw. It was dark in the livery, but there was enough light from the torches out on the street outside to cast a small bit of illumination inside. Leonidas dropped to his knees beside her as Tate examined her skull.

“How bad?” Leonidas said anxiously.

Tate looked at the man, covered in blood from his flight. “Is any of that blood yours?”

Leonidas hadn’t even realized how much gore was on him. He looked down at himself. “None of it,” he said. “It is all from my opponent.”

Tate’s focus returned to Christelle. “Tell Ken and Stephen to get the body of the man you killed out of that chamber and dump him in the river with the others,” he said. “I hear that Hull is a man who stands for justice, and he might not like what we’ve done.”

Leonidas waggled his eyebrows. “Under normal circumstances, you would be correct,” he said. “But in this case, justice was served as far as I’m concerned. Those who would harm Christelle have been found guilty and the sentence was carried out. But your point is taken. I will go back to the tavern and give them some coin to compensate for the mess they’re faced with.”

“Lord Hull is not only fair, but he is generous, too.”

Leonidas would have smiled at the comment had he the strength to do so, but he didn’t. His focus was on Christelle’s bloodied face as Tate finished examining her head.

“I do not feel any breaks,” Tate finally said. “But she is wounded. Leo, I’d like to take her back to the castle where she can be properly cared for, but I also know what has transpired between you two. I do not want to create any trouble for you, so I will let you decide. If you’d rather not take her back to the castle, then I am certain we can find another tavern and let a room for her where a physic can attend her.”

Leonidas was shaking his head before the man was even finished. “We will take her back to Ashendon,” he said. “Phillipa is an excellent nurse, and I am certain she will want to help.”

“But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you going to force me to be plain about it?”

Leonidas knew what he meant. He looked at the man, sighing heavily. “You needn’t worry about my feelings,” he said softly. “I just want her to be well again, truly. Let’s focus on her, please.”

Tate fought off a smile. “Spoken like a man who is truly in love,” he said quietly. “Knowing the little of this situation that I do, I would say that she did say several things that would vindicate her in my eyes.”

“I know.”

“I believe they were honest words, of her honest intentions.”

“I agree.”

“Sometimes people, women in particular, are forced to—”

“ Nay! ”

Christelle suddenly came around, remembering her last moments of a fight, and began to kick and swing her arms. She clipped Tate in the mouth with a fist before Leonidas managed to grab her flailing arms.

“Christy, stop,” he said firmly but gently. “You’re safe, sweetheart. Look who is here with you—Tate is here. I am here. You are safe, I promise. No one is going to hurt you.”

Christelle couldn’t see very well because of the blood that had trickled down to seal her left eye shut, but she heard Leonidas’ voice and that calmed her down considerably. It also greatly confused her.

“Leo?” she said, sounding incredulous. “What… what are you doing here?”

The sound of her voice nearly undid him. All he could think of was how cruel and unforgiving he had been—and how brave she had been in standing up to her father the way she had. All she’d ever been was brave, and God help him, he loved her for it. He forced a smile as a lone tear popped out of his left eye.

“We came to help,” he said simply, collecting her hand and bringing it to his lips. “Christy, I am so sorry for what I said to you. Sorry for being harsh. You asked me if I loved you enough to forgive you, and you must forgive me for giving you the wrong answer. Of course I love you enough. I think I always have.”

She just looked at him, watching him as he kissed the palm of her hand again, before answering.

“Am I dead?” she asked.

Leonidas chuckled softly. “Nay, sweetheart, you are not,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

“Because only in heaven would you be saying such things to me.”

He nodded, weakly, his gaze fixed on her, and more tears began popping out of his eyes, which he struggled to control. “You are not dead,” he said. “And we are not in heaven. We are in Hull, where you were meeting with your father. Do you remember?”

She began to struggle to sit up, and no matter how much Leonidas and Tate tried to hold her down, she fought to go in the other direction, so they gently pulled her into a sitting position. Her hand went to her head, where it was bloodied, and her eye.

“What is on my face?” she said. “Why can’t I see?”

Tate stood up, looking around for water to clean her eye off with, as Leonidas tried to keep her calm. “There was a fight,” he said steadily. “You were wounded. Do you not recall?”

She was still trying to pull gunk off her left eye so she could see something. “I remember… my father!”

She looked at him in horror, and he put his arm around her shoulders to steady her because she was weaving around, unbalanced and dazed. “Your father was here,” he said evenly. “But there was a fight and he was killed. He and his comrades.”

Memories began tumbling down on her, disjointed, and she grabbed hold of him. “He wanted Phillipa,” she said. “I swear to you, I was not going to give her over to him. I would never do that!”

He nodded soothingly, kissing her on her non-bloodied forehead. “I know, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I know. You needn’t worry. I know everything.”

Things were becoming a little clearer to her, and she paused in her panic, but still looked at him most anxiously. “I am sorry, Leo,” she said, her lower lip trembling now. “I am so sorry for what I have done. You trusted me and—”

He kissed her to quiet her. “Listen to me,” he murmured. “I know everything. I know who you are and what you are. I know the depth of your honor and your quest for truth. I’ve always known that about you, Christy. You are a woman of astounding bravery and compassion, a rare and precious jewel that I shall spend my life trying to be worthy of.”

Hardly able to believe what she was hearing, Christelle put her free hand on his cheek tenderly. “You… you said I ruined everything with my deceit.”

He closed his eyes at the sound of his own words. “I ruined it with my lack of understanding,” he said. “You are not that woman who first came into Phillipa’s service. You have changed and you have grown. You still need to run a comb through your hair every so often, and there are times when you make me daft, but please let that be something I must endure for the rest of my life.”

“But…”

He shushed her softly. “What has happened over the past few hours does not define who we are,” he murmured. “It is done and over with. We are strong together, you and I. And I cannot wait to share my life with you, if you’ll still have me.”

Realizing that the anguish they had experienced so recently was something he was willing to put behind them brought about a smile that was brighter than the sun. Bruised chin and all, she put both her hands on his face and kissed him with more love and adoration than she’d ever thought possible. By the time Tate returned with some water to clean off her face, she was holding Leonidas so tightly that it took both Tate and Leonidas to loosen her grip so they could tend to her wounds. Even then, she kept a grip on Leonidas as if to never let him go.

And she wouldn’t.

Ever.

For the woman who had been used as a pawn most of her life and the wolfe who had struggled to find his way in life, the advent of a red cross stitched on a forehead was a catalyst for greater things to come. A love that was as unbreakable as the honor of the people who shared it.

We are strong together, you and I.

And they were.