Bram has sent an escort of castle guards who await us with horses for my mates and a carriage for me, and we take a leisurely ride to the Wittner castle.
It feels like forever since I left. And how strange to be returning here, but only as a guest. My heart soars as we crest the rise, and I peer out the carriage window as the estate comes into view. In the cloudless spring sunshine, it holds a romantic beauty. The Wittner castle is a magnificent gleaming structure with towers upon towers reaching high. Before it is sweeping farmland, and to the north, the River Tyne is widest, a winding shimmering expanse of blue that leads to the sea.
I breathe deep, drawing the moment into me and savoring it.
“We can visit whenever you wish, Priya,” Hawthorn says, drawing his horse up beside the window. He is a powerful, dominant Alpha with a stern facade that I more readily associate with a scowl. When he smiles, it is special. He chooses to smile today.
“Was that a smile?” Raglan asks, pulling his horse up to the other side of Hawthorn. “Best we ring the bells on arrival to mark this momentous day.”
Brook chuckles.
“You are not funny, wolf,” Hawthorn says, but his words hold no heat.
Suddenly, I’m happier than I could ever imagine being. We move at a stately pace, but the breeze still whips my hair and brings a flush to my cheeks. I giggle. My hand lowers to my tummy, where a new life grows. I don’t yet know him or her, but they are already precious to me. Here, with my fierce mates in escort, I know that I am safe. There have been terrible moments in my short life, but as we approach my childhood home, I’m living in one of the best.
I hang out of the window all the way to the entrance, feeling my tummy turn over in excited nerves.
The carriage wheels rumble as we slow to pass through the gate. Behind, I hear the clatter of hooves that signifies my mates follow closely.
Bram and Silas are waiting on the steps of the castle. Sensing my impatience, Raglan dismounts and helps me down.
I hug Bram first, then Silas, before hugging both of them together. My gruff, middle brother, Dax, joins us—his is the gentlest hug of all. “Where are the babes?” I ask.
“Our mother’s day room,” Bram says. “Belle wanted to greet you, but the little ones are a nightmare if we let them out. They have no sense of danger.”
“Don’t fucking run!” Hawthorn cautions.
I shoot him a glare before looking toward Raglan. “Don’t fucking run,” he agrees with a smirk. “And don’t think we missed that little play.”
I bite my lip and dare to roll my eyes at him before hastening for my mother’s day room . . . at a very brisk walk. I have a terrible feeling I’ve earned myself a punishment by trying to play my first Alpha against my wolf. Later, I’ll be begging them to let me come and regretting that little slip. It is the worst form of punishment. But as I push the door open to my mother’s day room, I forget all about Raglan’s plans to torment me into behaving.
My mother greets me first, as stately as ever, her silken gown without a crease and hair in a chignon at her nape. “My sweet girl,” she says, holding me close in a way that fills me up with her love.
Nate ruffles my hair as he hugs me. “Brat,” he says affectionately.
Next is Belle. “It is so good to see you, Priya,” she says, taking her turn to hug. “It was the happiest day when we heard you were safe and well, and had found your fourth mate.”
“What an adventure you have had!” my mother gushes.
“I don’t like them so much anymore,” I say honestly. “I think I might seek a quieter life.”
“Do not believe a word that pours from her pretty lips,” Caden mutters behind me. Raglan chuckles. I scowl at him as Brook closes the door.
“Where are they?” I ask, eager for my first official cuddle as an aunty. If they are asleep, I will not be able to hide my disappointment. Nate moves aside, sending a rueful smile toward the hearth where Shep is sprawled out before the unlit fire. “Oh my!” I laugh. There can be no doubt as to who the father is. “They are perfect,” I say, tears of joy pooling in my eyes. “Papa would have been so proud.”
Nate shares a look with me before his face softens. “Maybe he would.”
Two little girl wolves, one grey and one a tawny-gold, are clambering over Shep. The grey pup emits a cute little growl as she savages Shep’s good ear with her small teeth. The tawny-gold one savages Shep’s tail with equal enthusiasm. As Shep spots me, his tail picks up a rapid thud that both girl pups bound after, yipping.
They are sent tumbling as Shep stands.
“Oh!”
“They are fine,” Nate says, grinning. “The poor mutt puts up with much abuse from their small, sharp teeth.”
The little shifter pups regain their feet, their small noses lifting to the air before they turn in our direction. They make a beeline for Raglan, attacking his booted feet with their teeth and yipping with excitement.
Shep woofs encouragement.
“The infamous Raglan,” Nate drawls. “I think they know what you are. You better shift so they can savage you properly.”
Smirking, Raglan shifts. He is a giant wolf that fills a good portion of the room,
