Page 111 of Fate

Not making the sweeping gesture to punctuate one’s welcome.

Just... standing.

No hand to his chest, no bowed head.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

She could just see Oberon’s’ expression over Lucian’s shoulder, and she was ashamed of how her pulse raced just at that glimpse of him.

This was her home. Her mate stood at the door, and she had absolutely nothing to fear.

But that did not stop the other possibilities from pushing at her. What if Lucian hadn’t come? What if it was her at the door, uncertain and a great deal too afraid, not knowing if she should be hospitable and allow him entry or if she could allow her stubbornness to rule and keep him out?

Ellena’s chair made a grating sound over the wooden floors, enough to draw Firen’s attention. Her face was pale, her breath caught in her throat, and she shook her head furtively. “I did not tell him,” she choked out, then repeated it more firmly. “Firen, I did not bring him here.”

She got to her feet and clutched once at Firen’s arm, then made her way down the hall.

But Firen caught her halfway down. Held her still. “Let them talk,” Firen soothed, praying that was right. She could not interfere with mates—no one could, and she was uncertain thiscounted as doing so. Her grip was not hard, just an arm about Ellena’s shoulders. Bracing as well as supporting.

She could feel the woman’s fear as tangibly as if they had a bond between them. At first she thought it was simply because of Oberon’s presence. Or that she had not told him of their meeting, and she had some repercussions she would endure once they were home again.

But no...

Because she repeated she had not brought him, as if...

As if her main concern was for Firen and Lucian. That they believe her innocent, that she had not betrayed them by bringing an unwelcome presence to their home.

That she had told him where to find them.

“He’d only have to ask the Registrar,” Firen whispered to her. “You did nothing wrong.”

Her shoulder slumped and then Firen truly was the one supporting her. “Oberon, please, why must you...”

His attention drifted from his son toward his mate. “Do you know, dearest? That the bond only feels a certain way when you are with our son. Which makes it so very easy to know where to find you.”

Ellena’s hands turned to fists, and she pulled away from Firen’s arm.

Pushed past Lucian’s frame.

Or tried to.

Except that he put his arm out and held it there, keeping her inside the house.

Which left an uneasy feeling in Firen’s belly, because that truly constituted as interference between mates, and they weren’t to do that, couldn’t do that, and yet...

Ellena grasped Lucian’s arm and pulled it down, giving him a firm look.

Then stepped out onto the stoop.

“I am happy when I am with my son,” she bit back. “Which should mean something to you.”

It was a hiss, a rage that had built and simmered. Bubbled freely now, as she stood to her full height and...

Shoved at Oberon.

She had not the strength to push him over, but it was enough that he had to take a step backward to keep hold of his posture.

And he was angry. Of that, Firen was certain.

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