Page 90 of The Howling
I also want this damned wedding to be over. It feels like the thing has been ongoing for years. I want to be married to my little deer and enjoy my wedding night and every other night after that. Most of the days too.
But on top of running the castle and handling the reappearance of my pack in solid form (which brings issues all its own), I now have the influx of guests, keen to be at the first Barghest noble wedding in a long time.
Even though I have no interest in being king, the castle and my ancestral lands remain my responsibility. And as much as I’d like to ignore it, I am king of my domain.
“We have a party of Faa who have ridden from the west,” Ellie says. “They say they will camp on over the Haugh.” She looks down at the parchment in her hand. “And there is the Laidly Wyrm, who will need rooms for her and her entourage.”
“Where do we have left?” I growl, already fed up with all the questions I’ve been dealing with this morning.
“We have the south tower?” Ellie suggests. “If we clean it up, it’s got a nice aspect and can be comfortable.”
“Just do it.”
I should be kinder to Ellie. She’s been incredible these last weeks, taking on the mantle of my mother in so many ways, helping Wynter get to grips with being a mate of a Barghest and, because I could never be bothered in my youth, teaching me about running a castle.
I don’t know what we’d have done without her.
“I’m sorry, Ellie. I appreciate everything you’ve done.” I put my hand on her arm. “And I know you miss Mother.”
“All of this is what she’d want, so I’m doing it in her honour,” Ellie says with brittle brightness. “And I can’t wait for you and Wynter to get married.” This time her delight is clear. “Plus, when she delivers, your pups will the first ones born for the new pack.”
“I doubt very much they’ll be the last ones.”
My pack has certainly been doing what they do best. With their solid forms returned, no one has wasted any time, and the sounds of howls and matings ring within the walls.
I smile at my sister. She might have been the last of our litter born, but she’s most definitely the brightest.
“I’m lucky to have you.”
“You are.” She chuckles, looking down at her list as a young Barghest walks around the corner into the hall and then backs up a pace when he sees me.
Ellie looks up and swiftly back at the items she’s checking off.
“Ellie,” I say carefully.
“What is it?” She doesn’t look at me, instead scratching her quill over the paper.
“Do you have a suitor?”
“No,” she says unconvincingly. “And even if I do,” she adds swiftly, “what is it to you?”
Wynter comes down the stairs ahead of us and sees Ellie with her lists. For a moment I think she’s going to back off too, but, having squared her shoulders, she takes the risk and enters the hall.
“Hi, Ellie, anything I can help with?”
“I think we’re good,” she says with a smile at my mate. “Just sorting out some of the guest arrangements.”
“My friends Kaitlyn and Gloriana are arriving tomorrow. Please tell me there’s space for them.” Wynter peers at Ellie’s lists.
“Already done,” Ellie says. “They’re in the east wing.”
“All of this is a mere distraction,” I intone.
“Why?” Wynter looks at me quizzically.
“Because my sister has a suitor she’s not telling me about,” I growl.
“Oh!” Wynter claps her hands together. “You do? That’s wonderful, Ellie. You need to tell me all about him.”
