Page 135 of Lavender and Honey

I cannot fault them; we have not yet arrived at the destination they envision, and that is why they stand here like two seasoned generals surveying a new, unforgiving battlefield. For the first time, amid the tension and despair, a fragile hope stirs within me—a hope that perhaps, against all odds, we might yet win.

My father thinks a name is enough to take me back. It isn’t, but that doesn’t stop him. He introduces himself with the kind of precision that makes me believe he really knows who I am and why I’m here. I doubt he knows either. It’s all the confidence he needs. He lets the rest hang in the air, lets his name do its work while my mother stands beside him and nods, as if that’sthe final word and the last piece. But Lucian isn't moved. Lucian isn't scared. And Lucian isn’t done.

“We’re here for our daughter,” my father says, and I can feel his eyes flicker over to me even from here. The distance between us is so much more than the long stretch of gravel and air that I wish it was.

His attention doesn't last, not once he notices how close I am with the pack. Not once he realizes that he has work to do.

Lucian’s low growl of warning makes it clear he isn’t pleased with that attention. My mother steps forward, and Lucian steps between us. He doesn’t even have to try. It’s like that’s where he belongs. It’s like that’s where they expect him to be.

“We didn’t expect company,” Lucian says, and it’s colder than I expect. It’s faster than I expect. It’s more than they expect too, but they don’t have time to adjust. They don’t have time to even realize what’s happening before he follows up with a barely hidden threat.

“You’re not welcome here,” he adds, and I have to catch my breath. I didn’t expect that either. I watch with Elias and Soren. I am tense and apprehensive. I am amazed by how quickly it is all happening.

Lucian is cool and confident, and he looks ready to fight. I know they didn't expect it to be like this. I see them exchange a look, and for the first time I see the uncertainty in their eyes. I see that they didn’t plan for this. The certainty of Lucian’s response has me reeling. It has them reeling too. They take a second to regroup, to figure out what to do next. They aren't used to being on the defensive, and I see how hard they are working to hold their ground.

It is strange to see my parents look this lost. They know I am here, but they don't know how to take me back. They don’t know how to turn this in their favor. Not yet.

I wonder how much of it is an act, how much of their confusion is real.

They don't like to lose, so I imagine very little of it is genuine. My father is a strategist and a planner, but this time the pieces aren’t moving in his favor. He’s used to having everything work. He’s used to getting what he wants. He’s used to me going back to him after an argument, though I never left more than a few days befor..now though this was different. I had been gone a little over a year.. None of this is familiar to him, and I see the calculation in his eyes as he tries to make sense of it.

Lucian's answer has thrown him off, but I know he won't stay like that for long. It isn’t him, and it isn't them. He looks at my mother, like they both have the same idea. Like they both know what to do next. I don’t expect it, and it catches me off guard again. It catches me off guard in the same way I’m sure my presence did.

“I’m her father,” he says, and this time it’s so certain that I almost lose my hope. I am theirs. I am a part of their plan. They think I always will be. I see him step forward with the full weight of his conviction behind him. He thinks it’s enough to take me back. He thinks it's enough to win. He sees me with the pack, and I see his lip curl in disdain when he realizes how close I am to Elias and Soren. Lucian lets out a warning growl, and it sounds like thunder over this empty field of air.

Finn let out a growl, it rumbles and rolls, a noise loud enough to break us all into fragments and pieces. But instead it just hangs there. It hangs there until Finn lets it go, his own silence as loud and threatening as anything Lucian has said. My father isn’t used to being threatened. He isn’t used to finding people as certain as he is. I know he won't like it.

I know it won't change him. They stand their ground like they own it. Finn stands his ground like he does too. It feels like a whole new world to see them so evenly matched.

Elias stays close to me, like I am the only thing that matters. I am not the only thing that matters to my parents. I am one piece in a very large puzzle, and I don't fit where they thought I would.

Elias is full of calm assurance. Soren is the same. I am full of nerves, the chaos of the situation making everything else seem slow. They are so close to me that they feel like home. My parents are so far away that they almost feel like a bad memory.

My mother doesn't say anything, and it’s not because she has nothing to say. It’s not because she is waiting for my father to take the lead.

I’ve seen this before. I’ve seen this strategy.

She won’t say a word until it’s the exact one that she knows will hurt most. That makes me the one who is silent, who has nothing to say. I don't have the words or the breath to fill the empty air, so I let Lucian do it. He does it with the same certainty he has always had, the same certainty that makes my parents the uncertain ones this time. He steps between us, and it’s enough to make my father stop in his tracks.

“You’re not welcome here,” Lucian repeats, this time with enough confidence to throw me off.

“We’re her family,” My mother says, and it sounds more like a claim than a reminder. It sounds more like a possession than a connection.

“Family isn’t always welcome,” Lucian tells her, and she looks at him like he’s speaking another language. Like he’s speaking a language she doesn’t know how to understand.

“You aren’t welcomed here. Lydia is part of my pack and you have no right to try to take her away.” Lucian says, voice cold and calm as he looks over my parents. I could only hope this encounter went by quickly. I wanted to hide away inside in the nest with everyone. Away from anyone who wanted to tear us apart.

Chapter Seventy-Seven

My mother wrinkles her nose and makes an unflattering sound.

“She is only scented,” she says, in that dismissive tone, flicking her eyes at Finn like she expects him to cower, “She isn’t marked by you. She isn’t technically a part of your pack until you claim her fully.”

Her voice is razor-thin. “And you’re confident she’ll ever be ready?” There’s a sudden thickness in my throat, and I can’t answer. My hand moves to my neck again, tracing the unbroken line of skin where her gaze keeps landing. She looks at me like I’m a thing left half-finished, a vague disappointment. My father stands beside her, silent, arms folded, a frown of displeasure on his face.

Then I hear it again—Finn’s growl. It’s not threatening, just sure and steady, like the man himself. There’s a rumble from Lucian as well, a confirmation.

“She’ll get her mark when she wants it,” Lucian says, voice deep and calm. “Not a minute sooner.”

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