The den was much larger than any Giles had seen before. Sectioned off into several different units. There were the main living quarters, with rugs scattered beneath large couches that’d been gashed and slashed from what looked like sharp claws. Then there were the areas where curtains hung across doorways for privacy—those he could only assume to be the sleeping chambers. A heavenly waft of sizzling meats filtered down the long hallway.
The reddish walls were packed adobe that had small, drill-sized holes in them. The holes gleamed with a bright golden wash of light that helped the interior not get too dark. The den was colorful and homey. But being underground reminded Giles too much of his home in his past life, and what he wanted more than anything was to get above ground as soon as could be. Back to the expanse of a never-ending sky and the gentle sway of a springtime breeze.
Lilith entered the living room and stopped, then pointed at Giles. “Father. Mother, meet Giles. He is the dark imp’s butler, and apparently I am to sojourn with him to Fyre Mountain. I’m starving; what’s for dinner?”
Giles blinked, confused all over again by the woman before him. Outside in the forest she’d seemed aghast at the thought of being asked to journey, but now she acted as though it were no big thing.
The rest of the family banded around Giles like a wave of sharks circling chum. He stood absolutely still and raised a brow, taking a turn to look them each in the eye.
Some eyes were golden, others blue. All the men were tall, coming to head level with their father, but not all shared his dark head of hair. Some had blond hair like their mother—one even had a skunk stripe of white down the center of it. But all of them shared the same strong features.
Lilith, Giles decided, favored her father more in her dusky-skinned coloration, although she had the cobalt-blue eyes and the slender, more feminine curves of her mother, Violet.
Violet stepped forward.
Unlike the rest of her family, she was not nude. Dressed in buckskin clothing that had been dyed a brilliant ruby color, she lifted a golden brow. Her porcelain skin and youthful features were at odds with the knowledge Giles possessed of her dark and dangerous nature.
Years ago Rumpel had worried that the Heartsong might actually learn to become more powerful than even he, and there’d been a contingency plan in place should the wee woman ever become a thorn in the prince’s side. Thankfully it had never had to come to that.
“Red,” Giles rumbled low, nodding his head in a show of respect.
No longer did Giles sense the darkness in control of her, but the energy flowing off her was still plenty powerful. Enough to make the fine hairs on his arms stand on end.
“Demone.” She smirked at him. “Please call me Violet. I have not gone by Red in years. And know that we allow no one into our home without knowledge of whom they are and what they want. My wolf may be”—she looked at Ewan with an amused grin—“a tiny bit unamused by all this. But I do know that you are indeed here for this quest and that my brash, thick-headed daughter—”
“Mother!” Lilith scolded.
Red’s laughter sounded like the chime of ringing bells. There was an ethereal quality about the Heartsong now, one Giles did not remember the woman possessing years ago. Before she’d been angry and full of righteous fury, but now she seemed almost domesticated and tranquil.
Rumpel would eviscerate Giles for ever thinking so, but even his own prince seemed more docile these days since meeting and marrying his Shayera.
It seemed love, even on Kingdom, was a powerful magic.
Laughing, Violet shrugged. “You know you are, my beautiful child. More headstrong than all three of your brothers combined. And we will talk about what St. John did today.” Then, leaning in, she whispered something into Lilith’s ear that caused the spitfire to blush furiously.
Red’s look was knowing and irritated, but not at her daughter specifically. “Trust me that your father will handle that situation.”
With the way she said “that,” Giles could only assume she was referring to the incident in the glen. When Ewan popped his knuckles, Giles knew his assumption was correct.
“But as this is your going-away party, let us not talk of such violent things,” Violet finished with a bright smile. “Your brothers have captured and killed a buck earlier today, and now we will roast in celebration of you and your speedy return.”
Giles was more than confused by Lilith’s clan’s reaction. He’d expected weeping, begging for him not to do this, not to take their only daughter on such a perilous quest. Ewan clapped him hard enough on the back that he stumbled forward two steps.
“Come let us eat, demon knight,” Ewan boomed.
At the sound of it all the males threw up their fists and then turned on their heels, racing down the hall toward the overwhelming scent of roasting meat. Only Lilith and Violet stayed with him.
The younger woman had her head bowed, but not as though bowed from humility, rather like she was attempting to hide her humor at the whole situation.
Violet chuckled and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Welcome to the lives of wolves, sir knight. In time, you’ll get used to it.”