"Tell , what exactly happened the night of Pine Ridge Lodge?"
Roman was the first to break the silence, pointing lazily between the three of them. "? Him? Or my sweet mate?" His hand slid over Violet’s shoulder with a little smile. "You’ll have to be more specific, Commander of Intelligence." His tone was light, almost playful, but the taunt was clear at the end.
"Roman Draven." Vincent’s jaw tightened as he spoke the na. "I’ve heard enough about your antics. Let’s start with you."
"Ooh," Roman leaned back, grinning. "Hit , baby." The way he stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles, you’d think he was gearing up for a party, not an interrogation.
Vincent set his pen down on the paper, the nib hovering just over the first line. "From the beginning, Roman, Draven," he ordered. "Why Pine Ridge Lodge? What happened that night? Who was there, and what exactly transpired?"
Violet and Griffin exchanged a glance, worry flashing between them. They both knew how easily Roman could get carried away.
The safest plan would have been to recite the story word for word—unified, airtight, and rehearsed. But professionals like Vincent despised perfect stories. Wolves could pick up on stress levels, heartbeats, and micro-expressions. Too clean, and he’d sll the lie instantly. One slip, and everything falls apart.
That’s why the plan was simple but risky: they would keep the sa backbone story, but each of them would tell it in their own way. Variations were natural, after all, they had been separated that night. That way, it gave their story layers, and not cracks.
So keep it vague enough to cover the gaps, and speak with the pride of survivors, not the guilt of suspects. It would feel natural and believable.
It was planned to perfection.
The only question was whether they could stick to it— and it started with Roman.
"You might want to sit comfortably for this one," Roman drawled, lounging back in his seat before he began. "Why Pine Ridge Lodge? You’ll have to ask my boy Alaric about that one. But hey, solid choice. We turned it into a little vacation. Beautiful scenery, mountain air so fresh the animal in nearly had an orgasm just breathing it in. Then again, nothing beats a real orgasm when you’ve got your mate-in-law and your girlfriend in the sa place." He winked at Violet, who promptly rolled her eyes.
Vincent’s voice cracked up a notch. "Do you think this is a joke?"
Roman’s smile vanished, and his face hardened in an instant. "Do I look like I’m laughing, Commander Vincent?" he shot back, his voice flat and cold. "You asked a question. I’m answering. Forgive if you’re not used to my charming personality and my answers don’t sound like one of your little soldiers kissing your boots. I just don’t take commands well."
For a heartbeat, Roman’s wolf flashed in his eyes, a glint of wild danger that froze Vincent’s pen mid-scratch.
Violet and Griffin exchanged a quick look. They hadn’t seen that coming.
Roman was reckless, yes. A joker who never seed to shut up. But in monts like this, he was unpredictable, and damn shrewd.
It seems they might have nothing to worry about at this rate.
"Fine, where were you at the ti of the attack?" Vincent insisted.
"Chained up like so animal. Asher and Alaric believed I had gone feral when it was only the Matebond activating. So I wasn’t there to support Griffin and Violet when the attack began?" Roman answered, annoyed.
Vincent scribbled sothing, then paused, before watching his face. "Did you ever suspect there would be an ambush?"
Roman shot him a dirty look. "Honey, I was having the ti of my life. Why would I want anyone to interrupt that?" he drawled smoothly.
Unlike Violet, who had gone as red as a beet, Vincent wasn’t affected at all. Sex was, after all, as common as breathing in their world.
"So what happened afterwards?"
"What do you think? Of course, I ran to find my mate."
"And Henry?"
Roman lifted a brow. "What about Henry?"
Vincent flipped through the pages of his book. "From what I gathered from Asher and Alaric’s testimony, Henry was the first to find Violet. What happened next?"
"We all joined forces on arrival. But Patrick’s n were overwhelming. However, Henry fought the bravest, bought us ti, and died when the explosion ripped the site. End of story."
Vincent watched him longer this ti, waiting for a crack, but Roman held his gaze, unflinching. There was no fear or guilt on him. He had told that lie as easily as drinking water.
Violet slid her hand onto his under the table, squeezing lightly and subtly reminding him not to get carried away.
Roman backed down while King Elijah chortled. "What a way to go, Henry."
Vincent proceeded to write down sothing and then asked, "And the explosion? You rember that?"
"I rember the air changing," Roman answered. "The next thing I knew, Micah grabbed and we made an impromptu visit to hell. Not that we were welcod there. But of course, you already know that from Micah’s testimony."
"Yes, I have," Vincent responded, "which is why I’m also grateful His Majesty invited him tonight."
"Huh?" All three of them lifted their heads, surprised.
As if on cue, Micah appeared at that mont. Just like Vincent, he too was dressed thoroughly in black, as if they had agreed on a color for a couple date. The sa surprise flickered across Vincent’s face when he noticed his appearance, though he quickly masked it, his expression returning to blank and unruffled.
For a long mont, Micah’s gaze lingered on him before shifting to his uncle. "Your Majesty." He bowed his head.
"You’re here, finally." Elijah’s eyes fell on the rune at his neck, then slid to Violet. "The family’s complete now, don’t you think so, Violet?"
"Yes," Violet said without a thought, only for it to dawn on her. "What?!"
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