Chapter 41

The question hung heavy between us for a moment. He blinked and blinked again. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dominic glance away, pretending to be fascinated by the menu. Arielle smirked, like she’d expected no less.

Then, to my surprise, my grandfather burst into laughter — full-bodied, unapologetic, delighted laughter. The kind that filled the entire room and brought tears to his eyes.

I bristled a little, thinking he was mocking me as he shook his head and wiped his eyes.

“Oh, you’re so much like you’re mother. I have missed it.” He chuckled. His eyes gleaming with something that was more prideful warmth than amusement. “You think we’re scheming,hm?" He looked at Arielle. “What did you tell her?”

“That we were considerign annexing Frostborne because of this nonsense.”

He snorted. “You’ll have to forgive Arielle and the rest of our… bloodthirsty pack. The howl is strongest for wrongs against our own.” My heart trembled as he met my eyes. His smile didn't dim even a little as he shook his head. "So sharp. So damned shrewd. She never let anyone walk her into a trap, except herself, I suppose."

Was he talking about Philip? I didn’t relax. I kept my arms folded, waiting, measuring every word that would come next.

I felt a flicker of hope as I met his eyes.

“Let’s say I did have designs on Frostborne,” he said smiling at her. “What could I possibly get out of it other than the satisfaction of killing at least half the pack as retribution?”

There was a sharpness to his eyes that was oddly comforting.

“I understand that cretin Philip would have more than a few ulterior motives to simply wanting to be in your life, but I do not.” His gaze softened. “The members of Frostborne will be dealt with in time, either because Arielle decides to burn them down, you take over, or the law dismantles the pack, but this meeting, our connection, has nothing to do with that.”

He smiled, leaning forward. “I assure that this dinner and all the dinners I hope we’ll share are simple about family and making things right after all these years. I want nothing more than to be there for you, in whatever way you need."

I hesitated. The warmth in his words stirred something inside me, but old wounds and bitter lessons made me wary. Still, in that moment, I couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, I could trust it. Arielle had already been such a support.

“Truthfully, as his only child, no matter how the Panel may feel about you, your gender, or age, whatever you want to do with Frostborne is your business. They couldn’t stand in your way, and I doubt that Dominic is foolish enough to try.”

He leaned back in his chair, the fine material of his jacket stretching across broad shoulders. He looked proud. Unapologetically proud.

"I just want a little time with my youngest granddaughter," he said. "Take you out, show you off, brag to my old friends, spoil you absolutely rotten, enjoy being a grandfather to you the way I haven’t been able to.” He grinned. “Think that’s something you could be interested in, little princess?”

I bit my lip. My eyes burning with tears. Longing pulling on every heartstring. I wanted to believe him. I really did. Something inside of me — that small, aching place that had always wondered why I always had to be alone and unloved, why no one had ever stood between me and Philip — ached to believe him. But another part of me, the part that had been hurt too many times already, stayed quiet and wary.

"Maybe," I said carefully, my voice low. "We'll see."

His smile didn’t falter. If anything, it grew even warmer, like he knew exactly how hard I was trying not to hope too much — and he respected it.

“I would ask for nothing more than a chance.” He lifted his hand. “Now, let’s enjoy dinner, hm? They have the best venison on the continent.”

“They’d better,” Arielle growled. “Or Maggie is going to get an earful.”

He laughed. “ When you're going to stop calling that boy Maggie?”

She beamed at him .”You said you didn't get involved with issues between cousins, let along siblings.”

He tutted and lowered his voice, looking at me. “She and your cousin, Magnus, have been at each other’s throats since they were born. Do you remember Magnus?”

I blinked and shook my head.

“Not much to remember the twerp,” Arielle said.

He laughed. “They’re twins. And admittedly, he makes a point of irritating our little hurricane.”

He launched into a story about something that had happened a while a go. A fight had broken out, and apparently Magnus had caused the issue. They both ended up in the hospital. But Magnus had to stay in longer because Arielle, even at a young age, was a force to be reckoned with. It was nice listening to them tell stories. It was nice to hear the warmth in his voice. And it was odd. The only person I had ever heard talk about their family this way was Dominic, and I was sure that Vivian was a million times worse than Magnus.

Soon, the waiters swept in with the first course. Everything was plated so beautifully it almost felt like a crime to touch it. I kept sneaking glances at Dominic. He was quiet, polite, answering my grandfather’s occasional questions with short, clipped words. I couldn't figure out why he was even here. Finally, as the main course was set down, something that looked too fancy to even name, my grandfather leaned back in his seat, swirling his wine casually.

"I suppose you're wondering why young Dominic here is joining us," he said, and I stiffened slightly, setting my fork down.

Dominic's jaw tightened, like he already knew where this was going.

"I wanted to meet him, alpha to alpha," my grandfather said. "Talk to him. See if there was a need for me to press for guardianship over you, Renee. If he was his father, we wouldn't even be having this conversation. I would have simply have removed you from Brightclaw, and that would have been the end of it. There isn't a single person on the panel who would be able to fight me on that."

I blinked, stunned. I knew absolutely nothing about Dominic's father, but the look on Dominic's face was grim and made me wonder. Did he agree with my grandfather about his father? And could he really have done that?

He waved a hand before I could even ask. "But after speaking with him, I don't see the need. He seems like a good man. We understand each other."

Dominic’s grimace grew more grim, just for a second. And I caught the edge of something else in the way my grandfather said it. Some conversation I hadn’t been part of, some agreement reached. Whatever it was, it didn’t feel like it was against me. If anything, it felt protective, even if it was wrapped up in layers of politics I didn’t fully understand yet.

So I let it go. For now.

Instead, I tried to enjoy the meal. I had never been somewhere this beautiful, with real silverware and candlelight and crystal glasses, save for eating at Dominic’s hosted celebrations, and this was leaps and bounds better than those events. Despite all the money I was technically heir to, this was really the firs time I was enjoying that kind of luxury. Even for Vivian’s birthdays, where she’d invite me to Brightclaw for the celebration or when she just wanted something specific, it had always been so much less than this.

In the future, after I’d married Tyler, it was much the same. The yacht was the fanciest thing I’d ever done. All of our anniversaries have been so plain and reserved. Humble. I hadn't known any better to think that keeping it that way, keeping it under a budget, increased the intimacy of the experience.

The thought slipped out before I could stop it. "Thank you.”

Arielle and grandpa went still.

“For what, darling?” Grandpa asked.

Arielle was staring hard, burning holes into her plate, cutting through her venison like she wanted it to be a person. She lifted her glass and someone stepped forward to refill it.

“I believe this is the point where I’ll need whiskey. Chilled, please.”

My lips twitched. “I’ve never been anywhere like this. It’s… really nice." I chuckled. “Something to look forward to depending where I get hired on, right? Don’t finance companies host parties at places like this?”

Dominic turned sharply toward me, his expression troubled.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice low and rough around the edges.

I hesitated, my fork paused halfway to my mouth, staring at him, unsure of how I should interpret the look in his eyes.

Surprise, confusion, and grief. I blinked at him and realized that he knew so much less than I had ever imagine.

I wasn’t sure if that was a relief or a giant red flag.