Chapter Eight
We all sat in the living room, Logan and I on the couch, Aunt Kirsten in one of the armchairs and Uncle Martin in the other. He, too, looked businesslike, almost grim, and I knew this wasn’t exactly a social call.
Still, I attempted to hold off the dreaded discussion as long as I could. “Would you like any water, or coffee?” I asked, beginning to rise from the couch.
“Nothing,” my aunt said. “We’re fine.”
I didn’t quite sigh as I settled back down on the sofa. Beside me, Logan sent me the faintest of questioning glances, but I knew I didn’t dare say anything to him in front of my aunt and uncle. “So…what’s this about?”
Aunt Kirsten raised an eyebrow. Because she was half Nord, she was aging very slowly and didn’t look anything close to her actual age of forty-eight. Peop
