Page 106 of Inked Athena

“Holy shit, Nova, you really undersold this place.” Hope’s practically vibrating with excitement. “You literally live in Hogwarts. Are there secret passages? Please tell me there are secret passages. And dungeons. There have to be dungeons.”

“Language, young lady,” Grams chides, but she’s beaming as she cups my face in her weathered hands. “Let me look at you, sweetheart. My goodness, you are more beautiful than ever.”

I can barely see through my tears, but when I turn to share their view of Castle Moorbeath, I catch a glimpse of Sam standing on the steps, hands in his pockets, satisfaction written in every line of his body.

He did this. He brought my family to me, gave me back the pieces of my heart I thought I’d have to live without.

The magnitude of what this means—whathemeans to me—sets the waterworks free all over again. Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly love him more, he goes and proves me wrong.

Mrs. Morris’s voice rings out from somewhere inside, probably having an aneurysm over the dogs tracking mud through her pristine halls, but for once, I couldn’t care less about the chaos.

I have my family back.

We start the slow trek up the stairs to meet Samuil at the top.

“Serena,” he remarks coolly as he kisses her cheek, “you look well. I hope the travel wasn’t too strenuous.”

“Oh, it was just awful,” interjects Hope, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Private jets and in-flight caviar service are just pure torture, you know?”

Myles comes trotting up from behind the wheel of one of the Range Rovers, grinning from ear to ear. “If you hated that, wait until I show you the three-thousand-thread-count silk sheets we’ll be sleeping—I mean,you’llbe sleeping on…”

I roll my eyes, laugh, and smack both Hope and Myles on the shoulder simultaneously. “For God’s sake, save that for when I’m out of hearing range.”

Mr. Morris materializes from nowhere with Rufus and Ruby trotting at his heels like they’ve known him their whole lives. “Lords and ladies, it would be my pleasure to take you on a brief tour of the grounds as the staff conveys your luggage to your quarters. If you’d be so kind as to follow me…”

He takes us on a circuit through the main parts of the castle, chest puffed with pride. He and Mrs. Morris have really gone above and beyond: custom-made beds for the dogs, a luxurious spread of bath products ready for Hope to use in the clawfoot tub, and at the end of proceedings, a tea service awaiting us in the library, with steam spiraling from the top of the china cups.

Grams and Mrs. Morris hit it off immediately, gossiping like the two old hens that they are. Hope and Myles disappear so he can “assist her with her luggage,” which is an absolutely raunchy euphemism if I’ve ever heard one. And the dogs go gallivanting off to chase sheep under Mr. Morris’s supervision. Even through the thick castle walls, their joy-filled barks are audible.

I’m still floating on cloud nine when Sam and I finally retire to our tower bedroom post-dinner. The happiness bubbles through my veins like champagne, making me giddy even hours after everyone’s settled in.

Moonlight streams through the arrow-slit windows, painting silver stripes across our bed. I roll to face Sam, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion threatening to spill over.

“Thank you,” I whisper, tears pricking my eyes. “Having them all here… it makes everything feel real.”

Sam’s arm slides around me, his large hand settling protectively over the slight swell of my belly. His touch grounds me, anchors me to this perfect moment.

“The castle needed more life in it,” he admits, voice soft in the darkness. “More chaos. More family.”

I feel his smile against my hair as Ruby’s excited barking echoes up from the grounds. She’s probably spotted the foxes that liketo hunt near the sheep pen at night. Hope’s bright laughter floats up from somewhere below, followed by Myles’s deeper chuckle.

“Though perhaps slightly less chaos than Rufus trying to herd the sheep tomorrow,” Sam adds dryly.

I laugh, burrowing deeper into his warmth. “He’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Like owner, like dog?”

I pinch his side in retaliation, but can’t help grinning. “I’d say you’re the one who needs herding, Mr. Litvinov.”

Instead of arguing, he captures my mouth in a kiss that steals my breath and melts my bones. His hand slides lower, and suddenly, I’m very grateful for the thick stone walls between us and our guests.

“Show me how well you can handle an unruly beast,” he murmurs against my lips.

“I’ve got a better idea,” I whisper back. “Why don’t you run wild for a change?”

37

NOVA

---