Darius
I want it on record that I took it well.
The door of the Alpha Mansion opened before I could pound it off its hinges, and the four of them were arranged across the entrance hall in a formation I can only describe as guilty. My sister in the middle, wrapped in a robe, chin high, cheeks blazing. Zephyr on her right with his arms crossed, dressed too fast, one boot unlaced. Caius on her left wearing yesterday’s shirt inside out. And Lucien slightly behind, immaculate, because of course he was, holding, as a shield, a tray of Berta’s breakfast rolls.
“Darius,” Wren said. “Good morning.”
“Don’t.” I pointed at her. Then at each of them, one by one, down the line. “Don’t. Don’t. Especially don’t.”
I’d ridden through the night on Kellan’s cold trail, lost it in the river country, and t
