Page 3 of Lethal Souls

“Can you send some tea to the grand room please?”

He bows his head. “Of course, sir.”

“I know this year is going to be incredible,” Juniper goes on, trailing closely behind me. She and Willow follow me into the grand room where the seating is practically infinite.

The walls are painted dark gray, several leather sofas accompanied by upholstered chairs scattered throughout the room. A wall of books occupies the west wall.

The wall of windows reveals a rippling black ocean. It’s early, and a few wisps of sunlight sneak through gray clouds.

“I can’t wait to dance and sing and drink every damn item they have at the bars, and—oh, goodness.” Juniper gasps, pressing a rather dramatic hand to her chest. “What am I going to wear? I don’t have a dress! I’ll need a dress. And so will you, Willow.”

“Rein it in, will you, Juniper?” I claim one of the larger sofas. “You don’t even know if Willow wants to go.”

“Of course I want to go,” Willow exclaims. “Alora told me all about Armistice Night. It only happens every couple of years, right?”

“Yes, a time when we must surround ourselves with all our enemies and choke down all the hate for one night,” I grumble. “It’s ridiculous. You can’t erase hatred that easily.”

“I agree.” Killian’s voice rises from a distance. He enters the room, standing beneath one of the overhead lights with his arms crossed. “It’d be dangerous for us to go, especially after the Rami situation. His son is still dodging us.”

“Oh, stop it!” Juniper chides. “Just bring a fleet for backup, and we’ll be fine. It’ll be fun to party and hang out. After all the shit we’ve been through, we deserve to let loose for once.”

Can’t deny that. We have been going through some insane shit lately.

Mournwrath.

Cold Tethers.

Regals.

“Do you not remember what happened the last time you let loose?” Killian asks, eyes fixed on his sister. “You nearly got yourself killed in Iron Class because of that bloody temper of yours.”

“You’re one to talk about a temper,” Juniper retorts.

“Who’s going to a party?” Rowan pops into the room as well, snagging a spot on one of the sofas. Makoto trails in behind him, placing a tray of tea on the center table.

“It’s not just any party,” Juniper informs him, plopping down beside her brother like she has some big secret. “Look!” She shoves the paper in front of Rowan’s face, and he sighs, snatching it from her to hold it at a reasonable distance.

As he reads it, I pour myself and Willow a cup of tea.

“Nice. Are we going?” Rowan asks, swinging his gaze to me. Everyone in the room has their eyes on me now, awaiting an answer.

Love of Vakeeli.

Sometimes I forget I’m the one in charge of them.

“If Willow wants to go, I suppose we are,” I say as she claims the spot next to me.

“It’s not a party without the Blackwater Clan.” Rowan grins, rubbing his hands together. “Oi, I have the perfect suit for the night.”

“You really think it’s wise taking Willow there for everyone in Vakeeli to see?” Killian asks, pointing his attention to my mate. “Not to ruin it for you, Willow, but I worry about your and Caz’s safety. I know I may seem like the party dragger here, but we have to remain realistic. There are still enemies out there, and many of them will be attending Armistice Night.”

“I’m not comfortable with the idea, if I’m speaking honestly,” I admit, and Willow turns her disappointed gaze to me. “But it’ll be her first of this lifetime, and she deserves to go.” Her smile appears again, along with a flutter in both our chests. “As Juniper said, we’ll bring a fleet. I’m sure all other territories will be doing the same.”

Killian sighs, head shaking.

He knows there is no arguing.

“We’ll need dresses right away.” Juniper leaves Rowan’s side to sit next to Willow. “I think the best place to get one is in Vanora. The dressmakers are remarkable.”

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