Page 82 of Wolf's Bane
She lined up boxes on the shelf. Labels, written in Amalie’s neat hand, had faded with age. “I’ve been reading the handbooks. Older werewolves have absorbed more nexus energy, making them stronger and more resistant to silver.”
“Yes, that’s what the book says.”
“The books never mention an anchor.”
“No, I don’t suppose they would,” Godwin answered slowly.
“Why?”
He scrubbed a hand over his chin again. “Politics, I imagine. The first editions discussed anchors. What we have are later printings, after mention of anchors were purged.”
“Politics.”
“Yes, Solenne, politics. Not everyone is comfortable with the notion of a beast living among them, even a tame beast.”
Her shoulders pulled back, ready for a fight. “Do not call Alek a beast.”
Godwin held up his hands to placate her. “Maybe people and—what did you call him, a werewolf?—lived peacefully together in the beginning, but that changed. The mutations couldn’t be contained. Entire settlements were lost in the West Lands. A few accounts of werewolves losing their anchors and destroying an entire village and people decided that they wouldn’t tolerate any beast, anchored or not.”
“So a purge.”
“These notions are hard to unlearn. Wherever you go, if people find out about Alek’s nature, they’ll turn on him.”
“His true nature, Papa, is a decent, caring man.”
“Who turns furry and howls at the moon.”
Father and daughter stared at each other.
“It’d be best if you stayed. People know him here. They’ll be kind,” Godwin said.
Still controlling, even when trying to make amends. The subtle digs at Alek, she didn’t know if she could tolerate. No, correction. She refused to tolerate it, and she did not know if the protection Godwin reluctantly offered to Alek would be worth it.
“Thank you for the reader. I’m sure it’ll be marvelous when you get it working,” she said, retreating up the stairs.
Chapter 20
Aleksandar
Boxon Hill
Marechal House - The Library
“Alek, a word.”Godwin did not wait for Alek to respond to his command, but headed into the library. He poured brandy into two glasses, handing Alek one. “My daughter has dug in her heels. Her heart is set on you.”
Alek sipped the liquor, enjoying the burn as it slid down his throat. “I told you my intentions ten years ago. Nothing has changed.”
“I’m not happy, Aleksandar. When you entered this house, you gave me your word.”
“And I informed you that you misjudged your daughter.”
The two men stared at each other until Godwin sighed heavily. He sat in a worn leather chair and rubbed where the patch rested against his check. “Never could tell that girl anything. Stubborn like Amalie.” Another sigh. He drained his drink and contemplated the empty glass. “She won’t forgive me until we make peace.”
Alek’s bit back his first instinct, which was to tell the old man that they did not need his permission or forgiveness, but he knew Solenne. She loved her family above all else. She could have gone anywhere in the last ten years, done anything, but she remained to help her father and brother. Her selflessness was more than familial duty. It was devotion.
She’d want to repair her relationship with Godwin. Perhaps not tomorrow or even the next year, but eventually.
“For Solenne,” he said.
