MaeveDinner was fucking painful. Not because the food was bad. Gemma had apparently taken Lyra calling our home old and musty as a personal declaration of war, because the dining table looked like she had decided to prove Caine could feed royalty. Roasted venison sat in the center beside herb covered potatoes, glazed vegetables, fresh bread, two different sauces, and enough side dishes to make me wonder how many wolves had been sacrificed to the kitchen today.No. The food wasn't the problem. The silence was.Lyra hadn't said a single word since we sat down. Not one. She sat beside Theron with her spine perfectly straight, cutting her venison into tiny pieces with considerably more aggression than the meat deserved.Across from her, I took another drink of wine. Her eyes lifted. Met mine. I raised an eyebrow. Her gaze dropped immediately back to her plate.Progress.Beside me, Ronan's amusement slid through the bond. Don't.I said nothing.You don't have to anymore.That only amused
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