Dante's POV
“I was skeptical at first,” Elizabeth went on, her voice low. “But then I heard the name—Minister Raventhorn. He and I can be considered cousins. We grew up together, and we’re still close. His daughter, she is not like her father in politics. And definitely not sly like the Werewolf King. If you must marry under pressure, Dante, she is not a bad choice.”
I gave a small nod. Not agreement. Just acknowledgment.
“I know you are not marrying for love,” she added, even softer now. “But, my son, you are almost thirty-three. How long will you keep waiting?”
There was no edge in her tone. Only sorrow. Gentle sorrow that came from watching someone you love live too long in solitude.
“You need a companion. Someone who understands you. Maybe even a child. An heir. Someone to carry your name forward. Someone to make your house a home again.”
I stared at my hands that were calloused and scarred, reminders of all the battles I had fought, all the lives I had taken. What did I know abo
