Bastien knocked, then stood back. I could tell by the pace of his breathing that he was nervous too.
The door swung open two minutes later, and standing in the spacious doorway was a werewolf—in his humanoid form—who, according to my estimation, was at least six foot seven in height. His body was as stout as a redwood’s trunk, his face wide and round. He had crinkled blond hair that trailed down the sides of his face and formed a goatee at his chin. His honeycomb-colored eyes bulged on seeing Bastien and me, but he didn’t look nearly as stunned as Bastien’s cousin had looked.
“Bastien!” the man cheered, a smile breaking out on his face.
“Uncle Sergius,” Bastien replied, managing to break out a smile of his own.
Oh, uncle. That must mean this is the guy who married Bastien’s aunt.
Sergius strode forward and drew Bastien in for an embrace.
“I’m glad you’re well and safe,” Bastien commented, as he gazed through the doorway over Sergius’ shoulder.
“Of course!” Sergius replied, still grinning. “And what a splendid surprise this is! My nephew, come to visit! Wait till Brucella finds out.” His eyes fell on me, his smile fading a little. “And who is this young… human?”
“She is my companion,” Bastien replied. He glanced at me furtively, as if to gauge how okay I was with that description, before looking back at his uncle. Companion was certainly a step up from concubine. It was comforting that Bastien trusted these people enough to tell them the truth. Hopefully we would not find ourselves doing another midnight leap from the top of this mountain. “I will tell you more about how we met,” Bastien went on, “as well as many other things we must discuss. I don’t know how much you are already aware of about the hunters?”
From the look on Sergius’ face, he didn’t know anything. He widened his eyes, his fair eyebrows raised practically to his hairline. “Hunters?” he asked, even as he realized that we were still standing in the doorway. Sergius took my hand, as well as the hand of Bastien, and pulled us both in through the door before closing it behind us and bolting it.
We had emerged into a small, bare entrance chamber that resembled more a cave than a room, nothing like the entrance hall of the Blackhalls’. Sergius led us through it, then up a winding stone staircase, until we emerged in a corridor that showed more signs of habitation. At least, there were woven carpets on the floor, and the walls were decorated with weapons—knives, daggers, swords, spears.
“I will take you to Brucella at once,” Sergius informed us. “And then you can recount to us all that you wish, and explain your reason for visiting so unexpectedly. We were just in the dining hall, finishing dinner. Are you hungry by any chance?”
Even now, I still wasn’t hungry. I doubted I would feel hungry again until I was safely back in The Shade with my family. Bastien answered before I could refuse, however, “Yes, we are both hungry. We would be very grateful for a meal.” Somehow I doubted that was true for Bastien either, and he was asking for food for my sake.
Sergius led us along several more corridors, which were really more like tunnels, before he stopped abruptly in front of a pair of double doors. Pressing his giant palms against them, he shoved them open. As we stepped through, I expected a large hall, but instead it was a small chamber lit by glowing lanterns, not much bigger than the living room of my parents’ and my penthouse back in The Shade. The only furnishings were a cherry wood table running down the center and matching chairs. The table looked large enough to fit ten, but only three were seated around it.
A middle-aged woman sitting at one end of the table rose from her meal and stared at us. She had straight, light brown hair. I wondered if that was Bastien’s aunt. Next to her, on her left, sat another woman, also middle-aged, with blonde hair and light amber eyes. She resembled Sergius. Perhaps they were siblings. And then the third person seated at the table was a young woman who didn’t look much older than me. She had both amber eyes and light brown hair. Brucella and Sergius’ daughter?
The three women shoved back their chairs and surged toward us. Bastien lowered me to the floor as they gripped his shoulders and kissed his cheeks, drawing him into tight hugs one at a time. Watching them greet each other, I learned that my guesses had been correct. The older brunette was Brucella, the blonde woman was Sergius’ sister, Lavonna, while the young daughter was Brucella and Sergius’ daughter, Rona. Bastien’s cousin.
When they stepped back, their focus shifted to me.
“This is Victoria,” Bastien introduced me. My skin tingled a little as his arm snaked around my waist. “She is my friend.”
I braced myself beneath their curious stares. It was actually more of a glare that came from Brucella. Rona was the warmest of the three, and she even gave me a small smile, which I returned.
Brucella cleared her throat. “Please take a seat.” She gestured toward two empty ones: one on the other side of Rona’s place, and another on the opposite side of the table, next to Lavonna.
I wished that I could have sat next to Bastien—I was feeling awkward enough as it was—but Bastien was already obliging, and moving to where Brucella was pointing out for him: the seat next to Rona. We all sat down, myself sandwiched between Lavonna and Sergius.
Brucella headed through a door at the back of the room that had escaped my notice until now and when she returned, she was holding two full plates of steaming food. As she placed one down in front of me, it looked rich and nutritious, and probably delicious, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat more than a few nibbles of bread. My stomach was still too tight for food.