Page 41 of A Wolf of War
Willow’s breath hitched, her chest tightening so suddenly she had to put a hand over her heart.
Of course.
Of fucking course.
20
MILO
Milo’s grin was instant, sharp and boyish, when he saw her expression shift. She lit up like a struck match the second she saw her sister. The giddy spark in her voice was so unlike the woman who’d been cursing his name just hours ago, it nearly knocked the wind from his lungs.
She reached for the handle without hesitation.
He had, of course, locked the doors.
“Unlock the fucking door,” she whined, yanking at it like sheer willpower might make it budge.
“Hold on.” He held up a hand. “There are ground rules.”
She let out a groan and pressed her face to the window, eyes locked on the pair not far off. Her breath fogged the glass, clouding her vision, as she listened to him. Or at least, he was hoping she was listening.
“Don’t try to run. Don’t make a scene. When I say it’s time to go, we leave.”
She snapped her head toward him, eyes flashing like light glinting off ice.
“Fine. If we’re running on your schedule, I’d like to get out there and see her, since we’re losing time.”
Milo pressed the unlock button without another word, and Willow was out of the SUV before he turned back around. She nearly stumbled in her rush, but caughtherself, legs flying beneath her. He watched her go—his girl, sweet and gentle and radiant—tearing through the open green toward the one person who mattered most to her.
Willow collided with her sister in a tight hug. Poppy wrapped her arms around her younger sister with a softness that made Milo’s throat tighten. Arlo stood nearby at a respectful distance, his expression unreadable.
Milo felt his chest ache differently now.
It wasn’t just about Willow seeing Poppy.
It was Arlo’s absence, too.
Milo killed the engine and stepped out, the door closing behind him with a hollow thunk. He locked it with a quiet chirp of confirmation and strode toward the reunion unfolding before him.
Poppy had her hands on Willow’s face, cradling it like she was trying to memorize every feature—or maybe confirm they hadn’t been altered. Her fingers pressed in hard enough that Willow winced, but she didn’t pull away.
He gave them space, or an illusion of it.
Every word between them drifted to him on the breeze. He could’ve recited the conversation word for word if pressed. But he didn’t linger on it and tried his best to put it out of his mind. Insteadof eavesdropping, Milo turned toward Arlo, whose mouth twitched up into a half-smile as they closed the distance between them.
The two clasped each other in a firm, brotherly hug. Arlo thudded a hand against his back, the sound solid and grounding. Milo squeezed once before letting go, the gesture quiet but deeply felt.
“How’s she doing?” Arlo asked, nodding toward the sisters with a lift of his chin.
“She’s a handful,” Milo replied, arms folding across his chest as he watched Willow hug Poppy. “But we’re making progress. Turns out that intel you dropped on me was dead-on.”
Arlo let out a barking laugh. “But I’m guessing you didn’t knot her.”
Milo’s head whipped toward him. “How the fuck would you know that?”
“She can walk straight.”
They both chuckled, the kind of laughter that only came from understanding what Willow soon would. The tension that had strung Milo tight over the past few days began to bleed off in the warmth of their shared humor.
