Page 106 of Oathbreaker

Leo joins us a few moments later. “Ready?” he asks, his voice gruff. I notice without surprise that he’s solo.

“Ready,” I say under my breath.

“Welcome to my home.”

Misha’s deep, accented voice echoes once we pass the entryway. He stands on the second-floor balcony. Taking slow, measured steps, he walks down the stairs. When he stops in front of us, the look on his face radiates seriousness. He reaches for Winter, taking her left hand, and his eyes flit to me with a slight, amused smile before he addresses her.

“I see congratulations are in order,” he says. Winter blushes but stays silent.

“We’d be married already if I had my way,” I reply, pulling her closer to dislodge her hand from Misha’s.

“I understand the sentiment,” Misha says.

He turns away from our group, and we follow him into a formal dining room.

We take our places around the table and look over when a woman who can’t be more than five-foot-even walks into the room. She has soft hazel-green eyes and dark blonde hair cut into a short style that barely reaches her ears. She could be mixed with a few ethnicities—her light-tanned skin doesn’t look like it comes from a bottle or a little too much time in the sun. Misha’s face completely transforms when she enters.

This must be Luna, his wife. He grabs her hand with a gentleness that seems a hundred percent incongruent with this man’s reputation of mass devastation.

“Please meet my wife, Luna,” Misha says in a clear tone. She looks good, not at all like someone who has terminal cancer. Winter is the first to move, stepping toward the small woman and offering her hand.

“It’s such a pleasure to meet you,” Winter says with grace befitting a queen. “I’m Winter, Hunter’s fiancée.” She trips over the last word only a little bit.

Good girl.

We’re all surprised when the more petite woman jumps at Winter, caging her into a tight hug. Winter stands there, bewildered for a moment, before she regains her composure, hugging the woman back.

Then Luna moves to the two of us, intent on hugging us before Misha growls low in his throat.

A warning.

Leo and I both take a step back. Got it. Don’t touch his woman.

Luna clasps her hands in front of her body with a smile on her lips and tears in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she says in a Southern accent. Georgia, maybe?

“You’re welcome,” Leo says.

“Luna has just shown me the report from your doctor today,” Misha says roughly, pulling his woman into his side.

“No evidence of disease,” Luna says.

Winter gasps, covering her mouth as tears pop into her eyes too.

Well, thank fuck for that. Project Panacea coming through just removed the hangman’s noose from my neck—at least as far as Misha is concerned.

“That is wonderful news!” Winter exclaims. “Tonight must be a celebration.”

“Yes. I mean, of course, I need to stay cancer-free, but I’m grateful,” Luna says, passing her watery gaze to Leo and me and then back up to her husband. “At least I have a fighting chance.”

A bell rings in the hall, and we take our cue from Misha, who sits at the head of the table. The rest of us take our seats.

My hand finds Winter’s.

“A toast,” Misha says. “To the beginning of a long and fruitful partnership.”

We lift our glasses to drink, and I try to avoid Leo’s gaze.

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