Page 83 of His Stubborn Mate

The baron’s gaze flicked toward Cataline.

“Your letters…I appreciate knowing my son’s fate, knowing he was, at least at the end, somewhat happy.”

Cataline didn’t flinch when she lied.

“He was. And now, so are we.”

The baron’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. Then his eyes settled on me again, and for the first time, I saw calculation there.

“You’ve claimed this boy as your own, orc.”

‘Twas not a question, but I answered it anyway.

“Aye.” My voice was iron. “And I’d die for him.”

The old man exhaled, seeming to accept it—and us.

“Well,” he said, and the word felt heavy. “’Tis lucky he is raised with such devotion to family.”

Cataline smiled gently. “We are happy where we are, my lord. And my Mate would see us safe to the end of his days.”

The baron’s voice turned thoughtful.

“You could be safe with me. I am very powerful.”

My blade rose an inch, my Kteer growling at the danger this powerful man could present to my loves.

Cataline shook her head, her tone still soft, almost pitying.

“We are safe, and free, where we are.”

The baron’s men shifted at that, and I caught a flicker of alarm in their eyes before ‘twas gone. Even now, they watched me and not their lord, as if I were the greatest threat.

Ewan chose that moment to yawn, wobbling slightly against his mother, reminding us all of the late hour and the minutes passing until the veil closed.

The baron noticed, and his face shifted. ‘Twas quick—so quick I would nearly have missed it. Just the briefest softening, the shadows of age and power giving way to a frail old man missing someone he no longer could have.

With a quiet grunt, he crouched so his eyes were level with the lad’s, although they were still some paces apart.

“Ewan.” It seemed as if he said the name just to remind himself that ‘twould live on after him. “Ye look just like yer father did at this age.”

I flicked a quick glance at Cataline, thinking that Ewan looked remarkably like her, not the husband I’d never met. But the baron needed this moment, needed to believe in this.

If he is lying to himself, then ‘tis unlikely he is planning harm to Ewan.

True. My years of battle had taught me how an enemy thinks, and I realized I no longer considered this old man a true enemy. Still, ‘twould be foolish to underestimate just because my Kteer felt sorry for him.

The baron’s eyes, however, were still on Ewan, and the lad, never one to miss an opportunity to ask what he wanted to know, tilted his head and studied the old man back.

“I’ve never had a grandfather before.”

The baron’s expression softened even further.

“Well,” he said slowly, “you do now.”

Ewan’s eyes cast over the old man’s impressive horse, then over his men and armor, then back to the baron himself, his brows pinched together in thought.

“Are ye rich then?”