I really want to know
With their son and daughter born Ganta’s main concerns had been on Roza, as well as the open borders of Dragoste. He felt comforted that Fiori was there, but more so for his mate, his children… With his own family a threat to them Ganta was heavily considering Ashmendai’s words. But how could a man choose between leading a war against his own kin and staying to protect his loved ones, his family, his pack? The man felt ill at the thought of it. What would they do if, say, his siblings managed to kill him? Enslave him? Where would that leave Roza, Philomena, and Ulric? What of the others? He shook his head, mind buzzing with doubt, with confusion, and worry.
But the call from Fiori and Dragoste’s shared borders pulled the man in another direction. He cast a look over his shoulder as he walked, almost expecting to see Rikeros, or one of the terrible three show their faces in that moment. But they didn’t. Ganta frowned, furrowing his brow before pressing on to where the call had come.
He recognized the fae, though he’d met her only once, and briefly at that. The man tilted his head to her respectfully; this was Leo’s daughter, and, as he knew her before, the heir to Fiori. His heart raced in his chest, nervous about what he’d say to her. He didn’t know she was the Queen of Fiori yet… and did she know she was an aunt? So many things needed to be discussed…
“Miss… Heather, right?” Ganta asked, praying he got her name correct. He offered her a small smile, but there would be no hiding some of the weariness that the young alpha was feeling. He’d been pulling long nights to ensure the borders were secure, daring only to doze for short amounts of time during the day. His ghostly gaze lifted to her blue hues and Ganta sat on his side of the border, letting out a small sigh.
“I do hope the Fiorians are not too sore with us for settling so close to their home. I wanted to make sure Roza was close to her kin.” Ganta explained softly, ears lowering a tad. There was more to tell… but he’d wait for now, seeing how she’d respond. |
I'm here without you...