Page 57 of The Storm
Peteris of Kurland
Dunte, Vidzeme
Watched by Riga
Leo dropped the heavy linen paper to the table, barely registering the wax seal of his father’s clan or his true name on the front of the envelope.Leontios, son of Peteris. Maxim, son of Ivo.
Max walked in a second later and put a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “What is it?”
“A letter from my father. Addressed to both of us.” Leo looked up.
Max looked as confused as Leo felt. “From yourfather?”
“I haven’t heard from him since I received my first assignment in Riga.”
Max muttered, “Peter was never a talkative man.” He nodded at the letter. “Open it.”
Leo shoved it to Max. “You open it.”
“Fine.” Mouth set in a firm line, Max broke the wax seal on the envelope and unfolded the letter. He read for a few moments, then set the letter down in front of Leo. “I’ll tell Renata and Kyra to pack.”
Leo picked up the letter. It was only a few lines, which was all he would expect from the coldest, most silent man on the planet.
Leontios and Maxim,
Artis is dying.
Come home.
Peteris
Chapter One
Riga, Latvia
Kyra was never sure how she would be received when she visited an Irin scribe house. When she was in Istanbul, she was home. Leo was her North Star. Ava and Renata were her sisters. Max, Rhys, and Malachi the teasing, protective brothers who made life familiar. She’d been raised with her brothers, often the only woman among dozens of men. Her father, the archangel Barak, had other female children, but he kept them apart. It was part of the illusion the Fallen created to convince their daughters, thekareshta, that they were frightening and unstable.
It was a view shared by many of the Irin race, which was why Kyra was never sure of her reception. Renata was welcome anywhere. As one of the revered Irina singers—and a warrior no less—Renata was the hope of the future and nostalgia for the past wrapped in a confident, beautiful package.
Kyra wasother. Traveling always made her keenly aware of that.
Max and Renata walked ahead of them in the airport, practiced travelers in almost any situation. They walked with their arms around each other, dark and light, a perfectly balanced couple.
Kyra and Leo walked behind them, following their lead as they passed through customs and immigration. Her paperwork said she was married to the man at her side. In the human world, Leo was her husband and a native Latvian. The officer looked at Kyra. Looked twice. Blinked and looked down at her paperwork one more time before his eyes went to the giant standing behind her.
She was beautiful—even those who hated her admitted that—but she was feared and distrusted by most in the Irin world. With her luminous skin and otherworldly golden eyes, she wouldn’t be mistaken as human by anyone with even a drop of angelic blood. She was marked as other by humans and Irin alike.
Except for Leo.
After they passed through immigration, he slipped his hand into hers and pulled it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles before he pressed it to his chest. She could feel his heartbeat, feel the magic of histalesmalive on his skin. His need for her centered Kyra and refocused her attention. Being nervous was an indulgence. This trip was about Leo.
“How are you feeling?” he asked her.
“I’m fine.” She squeezed his hand. “Don’t be concerned about me. Are you worried?”
“About you? Always.”
“No, not me. About your grandfather.”
