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Her lips twitched into a smile, and her cheeks grew hot as she avoided Gavin’s gaze. Compliments always made her uncomfortable. The deeper, sinister side of her own insecurities sprang to life, making her wonder about the sincerity of it all. “It’s not that special.”
Air wasn’t easy to master, and while she didn’t particularly excel at it, it was not the first time the spell had come in handy.
“Ellie?” Lyall cut in. His massive hands grabbed the woman’s chin, turning it to inspect her face before he let out a deep breath. “Thank you for that. Saving a wolf from my pack gives you our eternal gratitude, especially since it was my Elliana.”
His—like some sort of mate? The woman also had dark skin, albeit multiple shades lighter than Lyall’s, but they shared the same copper-toned eyes. His daughter, perhaps?
They headed to the tavern as soon as Lyall had reassured himself that Ellie was unharmed. It was the largest building in town, with two swinging doors and boarded-up windows. Even though its exterior looked tired and desolate, the moment they crossed the threshold the roar of drunken laughter and the clink of glasses welcomed them.
The place was dark, lit by oil lanterns on top of long wooden tables. The potent scent of sweat and wet dog hair pierced her nose. The further inside they got, the more she could smell the yeast from the freshly baked bread. It wafted across from the clay oven at the end of the room, where an older lady worked the bar.
Everyone fell silent at their entrance. Was it because of their presence, or simply a sign of respect toward Lyall? Perhaps a bit of both.
Holding onto Violet’s shoulder, Ellie pointed at an open table. “Let’s get you all something to eat.”
They met the curious—albeit slightly standoffish—gazes of the surrounding shifters as they sat alongside Elliana and Lyall. And soon the chatter, singing, and rolling laughter resumed.
An out of tune piano was playing in the background, its melody interrupted by the screech of tables being dragged across the room. Two robust women placed a large pitcher with bubbling ale, roasted venison, and buttered potatoes on the table. And in the far corner, a group threw knives at a massive target board stuck to the wall.
“Neal told us what you did for Ellie. Please enjoy all the brew you want. It’s on me,” the woman added with a warm smile, her skin shining with sweat as she patted Violet’s shoulder.
“Neal is our second in command,” Ellie said, answering Violet’s unspoken question. “He was on the roof with me.”
“Do you always eat like this for breakfast?” Gavin asked while spooning some potatoes onto his plate.
“Is there anything else that’s worth eating?”
Violet could think of few options. She was done with cheese and stale bread, so potatoes and meat sounded great.
They chatted casually as they ate, sidestepping the heavier topics of what had brought them here or any further mention of the Sídhes. Violet’s mind kept drifting back to last night, replaying memories until a fist slammed on the table, startling her out of them. Ellie was holding Mios’ hand between her own, her nose nearly touching his wrist where a few swirls of ink peeked out from underneath his sleeve.
He pulled away with a grimace, just as a whistle left Ellie’s lips. “Pops, it seems we’ve got royalty amongst us commoners today.” She flopped her head forward in an exaggerated mock-bow, almost knocking her beer across the table. “Your Excellence—or whatever we are supposed to call you—you honor us with your magnificent presence.”
“Stop that,” Mios growled, and looked around the room with worry etched in his eyes.
“What does she mean?” Lyall asked, his gaze fixed on Mios’ sleeve.
“He has the marking of the Lionborn. I thought I spotted it last night at the meeting. Happy to know my eyesight isn’t deteriorating like yours, old man.”
“I would prefer that my lineage is not spoken about out in the open. I’m fine if people just think I’m a lion shifter and not part of my family.”
Lyall cursed and rose from his considerably larger and more comfortable seat. “You. Take my chair.”
Mios adjusted his sleeve to fully cover his tattooed arm. “I will keep mine and allow the alpha of his pack to stay in his damn seat.”
“You should have mentioned you were one of the Lionborn yesterday when I almost kicked you out of the village. I don’t want issues with your family.”
“I thought you said we’d fallen out of favor.”
Violet exchanged a loaded glance with Gavin.
“Still—”
“There’s no issue,” Mios assured Lyall. “This is good food and even better ale. The beds were nice, and we will be on our way after this meal.” He looked to Violet and Gavin for confirmation, and she nodded. They had agreed to travel through the mountains together, after all.
“A powerful storm is brewing in the sky. You might all get stuck in the mountains, and I don’t want the royal guards to come sniffing about in my town. I insist you stay a few more days.”
What big storm? Hadn’t today seemed brighter than the day before?
