SHAWN
“Why didn’t you listen to your grandfather?” My mother asked as soon as I took my seat.
I shrugged, refusing to look at her. I looked instead at my grandfather.
His face was a blank mask of stone as he watched the podium where Silas was speaking in low tones with one of the moderators, but his knuckles were white where he grasped and released his staff.
He was angry—a quiet, vibrating fury that I could feel in the air between us.
But did it matter? Elara had forgiven me. The Vikings would stop their assault, the bleeding would stop, and we could finally breathe again. I could rebuild.
“I couldn’t wait,” I muttered finally in response.
“Well, you should have…” my mother bit out, her voice trembling. “Because now you have made everything worse!”
I frowned, finally turning to
