EMBER’S POV
The food is served alongside some wine.
Silas sits across from us, nursing a glass of amber liquid. He looks exhausted, but his eyes soften when they land on me.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, picking at the food on my plate. “For my mother. For how she spoke to you.”
“Nonsense,” Silas snorts, waving a hand. “Do not apologise for Devika. I grew up with her, remember? I knew the monster before she even grew teeth.” He takes a sip of his drink, intentionally lightening the air. “Though I must say, seeing my niece sitting here with the Lycan King… our ancestors are violently rolling in their graves right now. Spinning, really.”
Knox pauses, his spoon halfway to his mouth. He takes a bite, chews slowly, and arches a dark brow at my uncle.
“The stew is actually decent. I was almo
