Chapter 148: The Grandmother Moves
The room was quiet, warm with the weight of sleep and the soft breath of the man curled beside him.
Trevor had stayed still for longer than usual, his hand resting loosely against Lucas’s hip, his forehead tucked near the nape of his neck. It was tempting, too tempting, to let that softness lull him deeper. But instinct didn’t sleep, not truly. Not when there were threats that hadn’t yet been named.
Lucas shifted in his sleep, breath steady; this time there was no nightmare making him shiver in the night.
Trevor exhaled once, slowly, then slid his arm back with care. He peeled himself from the bed with the kind of silence that only came from practice, muscle memory, and war.
The floor was cold beneath his feet. He reached for his robe, the slate-gray one with the embroidered crest near the collar, and slipped it on in a single motion. The door clicked shut behind him a second later, soft as breath.
Windstone was waiting.
The older man stood just outside the suite in the hallway, already dressed, already alert, as if he’d known Trevor would come.
"She moved quickly," Windstone said without preamble. "I expected more restraint."
Trevor folded his arms. "She never had any."
"I gave her a warning." Windstone sighed, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. "We still have her secretary on our side."
Trevor’s eyes flicked up at that. "Did she report you already?"
"Yes," Windstone said. "Lady Vivienne asked about Lucas’s files—directly. She wants his entire history. Birth records, conversion notes, psychological assessments. Everything."