SABA
Saba descended the staircase of the lodge, the cool marble smooth beneath her bare feet, the hem of her flowing, long dress trailing behind her.
The scent of a delicious roast, spices, and aged whiskey wafted from the dining room, mingling with deep, raucous laughter.
She paused at the foot of the stairs, tilting her head as another burst of sound rumbled through the corridors.
The clinking of glasses and cutlery accompanied the chuckles and raised voices.
She was filled with an instant longing for company, and without a second thought, she stepped forward, pressing her palm to the heavy door and pushing it open.
The mirth faded.
All eyes turned to her.
Mak reclined at the head of the table, a glass resting in his hand.
Across from him, sat Kaal and Xander.
Their gazes shifted between her and her husband as did Zev, Boaz, and Santi, who all froze mid-motion, their expressions unreadable.
Asa and Koda, who stood guard, kept cool masks on their faces.
Saba arched a brow. ‘No one thought to invite me to the party?’ she teased, keeping her voice light.
Mak’s jaw clenched, his lips pressing together. ‘I forgot to tell you that one Friday evening every month is spent with my brothers and close friends. It’s a ritual.’
She let his words settle before giving him a quizzical expression. ‘One open to women?’
Mak hesitated.
That told her everything.
She tilted her chin up. ‘If you have to think about it,Šar, then I will excuse myself.’
His jaw locked. His dark gaze intensified in a battle of wills.
‘Saba, sit.’
They stared at each other across the table, neither backing down. His companions sat frozen, eyes wary, knowing better than to interfere.
She inclined her head. She would not cause a scene; it was not her style.
Kaal, who was already standing, pulled a chair beside him.
‘Plate?’ he offered, his expression unreadable.
Saba met his eyes for a beat before nodding, sitting with measured grace.
Kaal reached for the serving dishes, and without hesitation, he plated her meal himself.
He checked in on her preferences with quick raises of his brow and a quirk on his lips.
She liked Kaal, Mak’s tall and broad brother, who was a giant in his own right.
Mak clocked the entire exchange, sucking on a cheroot, his face an enigma, a quiet storm behind his dark eyes.
The room still thrummed with strain.
