The house was unusually quiet—not the empty kind of quiet, but the heavy, expectant silence that falls when everyone is holding their breath, waiting for the moment to arrive.
Armor gleamed softly in the morning light streaming through the tall windows of the wide living hall. Cloaks were fastened tight, weapons checked and rechecked, belts adjusted one last time.
Aiden stood near the center of the wide living hall, gloves pulled tight, expression calm but focused.
His expression was calm, focused, but his eyes—those deep, intense eyes—softened every time they landed on one of his wives or children.
Around him, his many wives gathered in small clusters. Some buzzed with excitement, their curvaceous bodies shifting restlessly in tight-fitting adventure gear that accentuated full breasts, wide hips, and long legs. Others looked nervous, biting plump lips.
A few hid their worry behind practiced smiles, tossing teasing remarks to lighten the mood.
