Page 50 of Mountain Summons

Lena offered a small, shaky smile as she extended her hand. “Likewise,MonsieurDevallé.”

Her father took her hand, giving a brief but respectful shake before releasing it. “Please, call me Amaury.”

Tristan almost smirked. Of course, his father would like her. Amaury was a connoisseur of rare, special things. And Lena? One would have to be a fool not to see she was one of a kind.

He forced himself to relax. He knew his father was genuinely glad to see him. But he was also, in true Amaury style, happy to have others see Tristan here, at his birthday celebration. The great Amaury, with his family behind him. The chance to show a man could have it all.Yeah, right.

At that instant, another voice joined them.

"There you are!"

His mother swept into view, moving with the grace of someone who had spent her entire life knowing exactly how to command attention without demanding it.

She kissed both of Tristan’s cheeks, then turned to Lena, her smile widening. “Lena,” she said warmly. “Finally. I really wanted to meet you.”

“I’m glad to meet you, too.”

“Tristan never brings anyone to these events. He rarely even attends.”

Tristan resisted the urge to run a hand down his face.

Lena’s fingers flexed slightly against his. He wasn’t sure if it was a silent reassurance or if she was holding back a smirk. Probably both.

Amaury, meanwhile, was already being pulled into a conversation by a group of men, all waiting for a moment of his time. Probably hoping to get in line before he even unveiled his new watch.

Tristan wasn’t surprised. This was how it always was. His father was the kind of man people gravitated toward. A name that carried weight in this world.

More people came. More introductions. More polite smiles and firm handshakes. Everyone wanted a word with Amaury.

Tristan stood there, nodding when appropriate, speaking when necessary, but the entire time, his pulse hammered, his skin itching with the need to get the hell out.

Then—Lena shifted closer.

Her free hand came to rest lightly on his back, warm, steadying.

Tristan exhaled.

The tension in his shoulders loosened—just slightly.

She leaned in, voice just for him. "I’ve got you."

Just three simple words.

But fuck—they were everything.

For the first time since stepping into this room, he felt like he could breathe again.

“Let me get you a drink,” he said, leading her towards the bar. As far away from his parents as he could get.

There was no wait time. Moments later, the drinks were in his hand. She’d said she liked champagne, but she made no move to drink any. “Jesus,” she said, staring across the room at the crowd surrounding Tristan’s parents. “I thought your parents were normal people.”

Yes. No.“That’s them. In their element.” Tristan took a sip of his own glass. “Wait till he begins talking. People will take notes like he’s got the secret to immortality.”

“You know, you don’t look much like your dad,” she finally said. Tristan had expected her to notice. Both his parents had the darkest eyes imaginable.

“I wouldn’t. He’s not my biological father. My mother was engaged—and pregnant with me—when he died during a climbing accident.”

Lena blanched. “A climbing accident?”

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