Everyone in the thinly populated hall grows silent and stilled.
As one, the Lupines make their way down the long center aisle.
Trystan and I exchange a glance tinged with alarm.
Rafe calmly watches them approach from where we all stand at the far end of the hall, a large turkey slung over his shoulder. He’s just returned from a morning hunt with Cael and Rhys, and the three of them are all still fully armed, bows slung over their shoulders and quivers strapped to their backs.
Diana enters the dining hall from a side door, her golden hair swishing behind her. She takes one look at her family and lets out a loud shriek of delight, her hands flying up as she breaks into a joyful sprint. Her father spots her, and his stern face lights up like the sun.
“Father!” Diana cries, exuberantly throwing her arms around Gunther Ulrich.
Gunther lets out a deep, rumbling laugh and hugs her tightly. “My fierce daughter! Oh, how I’ve missed you!”
Little Kendra jumps around them with joy-filled excitement, embracing Diana from behind.
Jarod, who’s come in behind his sister, strides over to the Lupines without so much as a glance in our direction. He’s been very distant since his painful encounter with Aislinn at the Yule Dance, eating most of his meals alone and spending much of his time hunting or studying by himself. Diana’s been increasingly worried about him, often venting to me about how useless her efforts have been to draw him back into our circle.
Relief washes over Jarod’s face as he quietly approaches his family. His mother takes his face in her hands and murmurs something before embracing him warmly, clearly overjoyed to be with all her children again.
Diana wraps an arm around her little sister’s shoulders, squeezing her affectionately. “I’ve missed you so much, Diana!” Kendra cries. “I’ve so much to tell you! Did you get my letters? I got yours! Look, Diana! Look! I got a beaver tooth!” She holds up the necklace she’s wearing, decorated with a variety of teeth.
Diana fingers the necklace, clearly impressed. “That’s wonderful, Kendra!”
“And I got a celyrnium for my rock collection! Remember how I’ve been looking for one of those for forever?” Kendra proudly holds up the bag that’s slung haphazardly over her shoulder. “I brought the whole collection to show you! And my drawings. I did about ten new ones!”
“I can’t wait to see everything,” Diana says, beaming at her.
“And I got a deer, Diana! Just a few days ago!”
“Brought it down herself, she did,” Gunther crows, patting Kendra’s head.
“A big one!” the little girl continues breathlessly. “I got it even before Stefan! He was so jealous!”
“She’s a fine hunter, your sister,” their father brags. “She may even give you a run for your money in a few years.”
Diana ruffles Kendra’s golden hair. “I don’t doubt it,” she says, smiling down at her small clone.
Her father pulls them both into a warm hug. “My strong, fierce girls,” he says adoringly.
I’m struck in that moment by the things Gunther takes pride in when it comes to his daughters—most Gardnerian parents value modesty and beauty much more highly than strength or bravery in young girls, and I find myself suddenly feeling melancholy and wondering what my father would admire most about me if he was still alive.
“Where’s Rafe Gardner?” asks Kendra, looking around the room. “I want to meet him! Boy, are you in serious trouble!”
“Kendra,” Gunther chastises, his voice full of authority.
“Oh...forgot,” Kendra says, abashed, lowering her voice slightly. “Not supposed to talk about it. But where is he, Diana? Does he have weird eyes? They have such weird eyes. I hope he doesn’t smell bad. Some of them smell really bad!”
Diana says something to her father that I don’t catch and then gestures toward us, smiling proudly.
Cael turns to Rafe, a wry look on his face. “I still can’t believe you’re chasing after the alpha’s daughter.”
Rafe grins at him.
Cael shakes his head, amused. “I do hope you survive the day, Rafe Gardner.”
Diana’s father fixes his eyes on my brother, as if picking up on Cael’s use of his name. The alpha straightens to his full, intimidating height, the smile on his face and on the faces of the four Lupine males behind him quickly replaced by serious, forbidding expressions. Diana’s mother also looks to Rafe, her face taking on a look of deep concern.
All of them, with Diana and her father in the lead, start toward Rafe, moving together with a fluid, cohesive grace.
“Are they going to come over here and kill you now?” Trystan asks Rafe, his voice low.
“Nah,” Rafe says. “They seem nice.”
Trystan looks at our older brother as if he’s just sprouted horns. “Nice? Are you completely and utterly lacking the self-preservation part of your brain?”
Rafe flashes a smile, seeming oblivious to Trystan’s sarcasm. He secures his hold on the turkey and confidently strides toward Diana and her family.
“Father, Mother, Kendra,” Diana says with a big, happy smile. “This is Rafe Gardner.” She’s gazing at her family with the smug expression of someone who fully expects them to be as instantly besotted with Rafe as she is.
Her pack’s unfriendly expressions remain frozen in place—all except Kendra, whose eyes flit back and forth eagerly between Rafe and her sister.
“This is the scariest ‘meet the parents’ moment that has ever happened in the history of Erthia,” Trystan whispers to me.
“Rafe’s taller than Diana’s father. Have you noticed that?” I comment.
“And your point is...what, exactly? You think this gives him some type of advantage? Against them?”
I shrug. “It’s got to count for something.”
“I’m honored to meet you all,” Rafe announces. He slams his turkey down on the nearest table with a dramatic flourish. “I just came from the hunt and offer my kill to you.”
Everyone’s faces take on looks of surprise. Diana beams at Rafe, impressed.
“I am Rafe Gardner,” he continues. And then my eldest brother proceeds to recite our lineage, clearly and fluidly, all the way back to Styvius Gardner.
“He must have practiced this,” I whisper to Trystan.
Trystan raises one black eyebrow at me. “It’s a list of every major enemy their people have ever had.”
“Rafe,” Diana says as my brother finishes, gesturing toward the alpha, “this is my father, Gunther Ulrich.”
Rafe extends his hand with his usual easy confidence. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
Diana’s father smiles and extends his own hand, his expression more feral than friendly. He gives Rafe a look of cool appraisal and shakes my brother’s hand, his muscular grip seeming strong and sure, and I imagine he’s gauging the strength of Rafe’s handshake and searching for any sign of fear.
“I see you’ve researched our customs well,” Gunther Ulrich comments, glancing over at the turkey, his hand still clenched tightly around Rafe’s.
“I’ve admired your people for some time now.”
“Have you, now,” Gunther says, his amber eyes glowing fiercely. “Like the exotic, do you, son?”
“Sometimes,” Rafe says carefully, their hands still locked firmly together.
“Is he getting ready to rip his arm off?” Trystan asks me worriedly.
“Find my daughter exotic, do you?” Diana’s father asks, his lips pulling back into a menacing grin, white teeth glistening.
“On the contrary,” Rafe replies evenly. “I find your daughter to be something of a kindred spirit.”
Oh, smooth, Rafe. Very smooth.
This seems to surprise and please Diana’s father. He releases Rafe’s hand, crosses his arms in front of his broad chest and stu
dies him with narrowed eyes and a slight grin. “My Diana seems to be quite fond of you, Rafe Gardner.”
“I’m quite fond of her, as well,” Rafe replies.
“I must admit, I’ve been very curious to meet the Gardnerian boy who dares to court the daughter of a Lupine alpha. You either have some serious balls, son, or you’re incredibly stupid.”
Everyone laughs a little at this, even Diana’s father. Not a jolly laugh, mind you—more of an I’m only being pleasant to you because my daughter likes you and if you so much as make her frown I will tear you into a thousand tiny pieces kind of laugh. He continues to eye Rafe speculatively. “I’m actually willing to bet it’s the former.”
Rafe grins, unfazed. “I’d like to think so, sir.”
Gunther laughs at his boldness.
“I think Rafe’s actually enjoying this,” I whisper to Trystan, shocked.
“Or maybe he’s trying to hasten his own death,” Trystan replies matter-of-factly.
“She’s a fierce girl, my Diana,” Gunther says, showing his teeth again.
“I’m well aware of that, sir.”
“She tells me you’re a fine hunter. And tracker.”
“Not compared to Diana, but among Gardnerians and Elves, I can hold my own.”
“He’s being modest, Father,” Diana interjects, her arm twining through Rafe’s as she looks up at him like he’s a prized trophy.
Gunther nods, then glances around. “Diana also tells me you have family here at University. Your sister and brother?”
“Yes, sir,” Rafe replies.
“Last chance to make a run for it,” Trystan says wryly.
The pack’s gaze shifts in unison to rest on the two of us. Diana’s father smirks, and I blush, realizing that they’ve heard everything Trystan and I have said to each other.
Diana’s mother looks increasingly worried as Trystan and I approach the pack.
As I near, their curious expressions fade, quickly replaced by looks of shock and concern. I realize my cursed looks and maybe even the smell of my blood could very well ruin this for my brother. My face grows tight and uncomfortably warm as I glance at each Lupine in turn.
Gunther eyes me shrewdly after giving the other Lupines a brief glance. I decide to go for broke and extend my hand to him and he takes it into his firm grip.
“When most people meet me,” I tell him, “they’re shocked by how much I look like my grandmother.”
“You look exactly like her,” he comments, his gaze searching.
He releases my hand, and I take a deep breath. “I may look exactly like her,” I say, my voice quavering, “but I’m very different from her, in more ways than you might imagine.”
Everyone is silent for a long moment as their alpha considers me, his wild eyes probing.
“Elloren Gardner,” he says finally, his voice low and commanding, but his expression kind, “it’s long been my view that a person’s appearance often reveals little about their true character. I am quite willing to believe there may be more to you than meets the eye. Perhaps time will tell, eh?”
I nod, feeling surprisingly touched, tears welling in my eyes. “Thank you, sir.”
He places a broad hand warmly on my shoulder, and I blink back my tears. “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you,” I say, the words heartfelt. “We all think very highly of Diana and Jarod.”
Diana’s father nods, pleased, and turns to Trystan, who’s wearing his usual unreadable expression. “And you must be Trystan,” he says with amusement as he shakes my younger brother’s hand.
“Yes, sir.”
Gunther Ulrich’s mouth quirks into a smile. “Trystan Gardner, I have no plans to kill your brother.” He pauses, a mischievous look in his eyes. “Not today, at least.”
“That’s a relief, sir,” Trystan replies.
A whirlwind of introductions and conversation ensue, led mainly by Diana. She introduces us to her mother, who appears reluctant to meet us and a bit dazed by the sudden turn of events. Then Diana introduces Kendra, who seems fascinated by Rafe, and then Ferrin Sandulf, her father’s beta, who’s mated to the crimson-eyed woman, Soraya, and father to the little Lupine boy.
Two large, blond-haired guards, Georg Leall and Kristov Varg, briefly acknowledge us, then go back to suspiciously scanning the dining hall. This is obviously not a pleasure trip for them. But the fourth member of Gunther Ulrich’s guard, a red-haired young man named Brendan Faolan, seems to be particularly good friends with Diana.
“I’ll spare you the lengthy introductions,” Brendan tells me, smiling as we meet. “I know it’s not your custom to share lineage.”
“Maybe you should clue Diana in about this,” I say teasingly. His smile widens.
“Refusing to establish lineage is just rude,” Diana interjects with some irritation. Then a new thought sets her grinning from ear to ear. “I heard you took Iliana Quinn to mate.”
“It’s true,” Brendan replies, beaming.
“I’m so happy for you, Brendan!” Diana enthuses, embracing him affectionately.
I look around the room as they catch up with each other. The hall is rapidly filling with mostly Gardnerian scholars and their families. All around us, people are chatting and embracing, but there are also quite a few shocked and disapproving stares leveled in our direction.
Then, among the gathering crowd, I spot a familiar figure—a small, disheveled Gardnerian man dressed in a plain, dark brown tunic and leaning heavily on a cane, struggling to make his way through the maze of people.
“Uncle Edwin.” The words come out of me in a choked whisper. Everything around me recedes, like fog exposed to sunlight. It’s really him, after all this time. After all that’s happened.
I stumble into a run, lurching toward him. Uncle Edwin catches sight of me, his eyes lighting up as I almost knock him over with the force of my embrace and break into tears.
“Elloren, my sweet girl,” he laughs, hugging me back warmly. “Now, what’s this? Don’t cry. It’s all right, my girl.”
I laugh through my tears and brush them away with the palm of one hand. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“It’s been too long, my dear.” His speech is slightly muffled. He pulls back to look at me, his own eyes moist. Worry momentarily threatens to overwhelm me as I notice that half of his face appears to have gone permanently slack.
“You’ve changed, my girl,” he says, concern briefly clouding his features. “I can see it in your face. You look...older. Tougher.” He considers this for a moment, brow furrowed, and his expression grows reflective, then gratified. “I’m glad of it,” he says, winking at me before pushing up his glasses and looking around. “So where are those brothers of yours?”
“Over there,” I say, gesturing toward Diana’s pack.
Uncle Edwin squints in their direction. “Ah, yes.” He smiles at me. “Shall we go over and say hello, then?”
It heartens me to see how casually willing Uncle Edwin is to meet a whole clan of shapeshifters. But that’s Uncle Edwin for you. He’s never been one to make judgments about others based on whether or not they’re Gardnerian.
My uncle’s arm threads through mine, and I slow my gait so he can keep up. Worry for him rises as I take in how much thinner and older he looks—so much frailer than I remember him.
We’ve all changed.
Rafe strides over with a broad, happy grin on his face and leans down to embrace Uncle Edwin. “Ah, Rafe, my boy,” our uncle says, chuckling as he pats Rafe on the back. “Your aunt certainly has given me an earful about you.”
Uncle Edwin pulls back from Rafe and looks around, finding Trystan, who is standing quietly off to the side. “And Trystan,” he says, tottering over to him. “My goodness, you’ve grown tall.”
“Hello, Uncle Edwin.” Anyone who doesn’t know Trystan would completely mi
ss the tumult of emotion hiding behind the aloof expression on his face as our uncle pulls him into a warm hug.
“What’s this?” Uncle Edwin asks, looking down at the wand attached to Trystan’s belt.
“A present from Aunt Vyvian,” Trystan explains, looking a bit abashed.
Uncle Edwin frowns at this, then collects himself, turning to squint up at the most intimidating man in the room. Gunther Ulrich’s eyes are flickering back and forth between Rafe and Uncle Edwin, seeming surprised that my strapping, confident brother is related to my short, mild-mannered uncle.
Rafe gestures loosely toward Diana’s father. “This is Gunther Ulrich, alpha to the Gerwulf Pack.”
“Oh, yes. Well,” my uncle says, squinting up at Gunther through his thick glasses as he takes his hand. “Edwin Gardner. Rafe has written to me about you... A pleasure.”
Kendra bounces over to get a better look at my uncle. “Your beard is awfully fluffy!” she exclaims, giggling.
Uncle Edwin chuckles and pats Kendra on the head. “And you, young lady,” he tells her, “have a very impressive necklace on.”
“It’s my tooth collection!” she enthuses, fingering it proudly. “They’re all different, and I just got two new ones! Wanna see?”
Uncle Edwin adjusts his glasses again and leans over to “ooh” and “ahh” over each tooth as Kendra beams at him, delighted to have such an attentive audience.
“Where’s the rest of your pack?” she asks, looking around curiously.
“Kendra,” Gunther cuts in. “Remember, they have different ways.”
Uncle Edwin laughs and pats her on the head again. “We’re a pack of four, Kendra,” he explains. “Rafe, Elloren, Trystan and me.”
“That’s all?” Kendra exclaims, clearly confounded by the idea.
“That’s all.”
Her face screws up in consternation. “You must be terribly lonely.”
Uncle Edwin pauses for a moment and looks at her thoughtfully. “Yes...well. We get on just fine, the four of us.”
The Iron Flower Page 10