Deborah's POV
As I stepped into the garden and saw Barron seated amidst the lush greenery, I couldn't help but smile—a genuine, unrestrained smile, which felt almost foreign in this place.
He turned at the sound of my footsteps and stood immediately, as if my arrival had been the only thing he had been waiting for.
The soft sunlight streaming through the glass ceiling framed him in a golden glow, and for a moment, the oppressive weight of Ablach seemed lifted.
The soft sunlight streaming through the glass ceiling framed him in a golden glow, and for a moment, the His warm, familiar smile reached his eyes, which was a stark contrast to the cold reserve I had grown accustomed to in this place.ppressive weight of Ablach seemed lifted. "You're here," he said, his tone light and cheerful, carrying a sincerity that matched his easy demeanor.
"Of course I'm here," I replied, a teasing lilt to my voice as I took a seat opposite him. I reached for the teapot on the table, pouring tea for both of us. "Seeing you is infinitely better than being stuck in my room."
Barron chuckled softly, the sound was warm and genuine, like a melody that softened the sharp edges of my day. "It's mutual, I assure you," he said, lifting his teacup with an easy elegance. "In my house, it's impossible to breathe. My brothers and sisters-in-law are constantly watching me like hawks. Every word, every move, it all feels like a battlefield."
He paused, letting the cup hover near his lips; his expression turned more self-deprecating. "And now that I am here, I am sure they are spiraling into panic. The thought of me marrying you—and bringing Edwards's power into my corner—must be giving them sleepless nights."
I leaned back, studying him with a raised brow and a faint smirk. "So, is that why you're hesitant? Because they're scared?"
Barron didn't answer immediately. He met my gaze with a faint, lopsided smile that danced on the line between humor and evasion. "My parents don't share their anxiety," he said at last, setting his tea down. "They're quite the opposite. They've been encouraging me—pushing me, really—to visit you. They've even suggested I stay longer."
He leaned forward slightly, as if letting me in on a secret. "It's not just about us. They're strategizing, watching the shifting dynamics in the city. The three families might appear balanced, but everyone knows that your father is taking the lead. Aligning with the Edwards family through marriage is, to them, the smartest move they could make."
I held his gaze, letting the weight of his words settle before responding. "And you?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral. "What do you think?"
His usual composure faltered for a moment. He looked down, running his thumb along the rim of his tea cup, as though gathering his thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, almost hesitant. "I… I wanted to come see you."
His cheeks tinged with color, and he glanced away before finding the courage to meet my eyes again. "I missed you," he admitted, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. "Not just you, though—your stories, the way you talk about the surface and all the incredible things you've seen. I've been thinking about them since you left."
I tilted my head, a smile pulling at my lips. There was something refreshingly earnest in the way he spoke, his words carrying none of the calculation or pretense so common in Ablach. "I'm glad you came, Barron," I said gently, leaning in slightly. "I enjoy spending time with you too."
His face lit up, the soft sunlight catching his expression and magnifying its warmth. For a moment, he seemed far removed from the legacy of the Thorne family—a young man with no burdens, no expectations. His grin, broad and unguarded, felt like a rare glimpse into who he truly was.
We fell into an easy rhythm of conversation, the kind that felt natural, unforced. Barron's curiosity about the surface was boundless, and his questions came one after another. I answered with the same ease, weaving stories of my experiences into our dialogue, and he hung on every word, his eyes alight with interest.
After a while, his expression shifted. His gaze sharpened, and he leaned forward slightly, as though a sudden thought had seized him. "Last time you were at Tairngire," he began, his voice carrying a thread of excitement, "you started talking about werewolves. But you never finished the story."
I blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "You remembered that?"
"Of course," he said, his enthusiasm evident. "I've been waiting to hear the rest. Werewolves sound… well, incredible. Terrifying, but incredible."
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Incredible is one way to describe them."
Barron leaned further across the table, his posture relaxed but his attention fully fixed on me. "Come on, you can't leave me hanging again. What happened next? What are they really like?"
The light in his eyes and the genuine curiosity in his tone made me smile. I leaned back in my chair, considering how to pick up the thread of the story where I'd left off, and for a moment, I forgot where I was. With Barron, the calculated pressures of Ablach felt distant, replaced by the simple pleasure of being seen, heard, and genuinely valued.
I raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the clarity of his memory. "You're interested in werewolves?"
"Definitely," Barron said with a nod, his enthusiasm almost boyish. "Actually, when I first arrived in Ablach, I stopped at a café and saw a man wearing a wolf fang necklace. It immediately reminded me of what you'd told me."
His words struck me like a bolt of lightning. My heartbeat quickened. "A wolf fang necklace?" I repeated, my voice sharper than I intended.
"Yeah." Barron paused, his head tilting slightly as he registered the tension in my tone. "It really stood out—it's not something you see every day. I thought it was unusual."
A swirl of emotions surged through me, making it difficult to focus. My thoughts raced back to Mary and the wolf fang necklace she had entrusted to me—a token that I'd later returned to Matthew before leaving Tirfothuinn. Was it possible that Matthew had followed me here? To Ablach, of all places? If it truly was him, what could have brought him to the heart of enemy territory?
I forced myself to keep my voice steady. "What did he look like?"
Barron furrowed his brow, clearly trying to recall the details. "He was tall, broad-shouldered. Definitely had a presence, like he owned the room just by standing there. His eyes—golden. They were… striking, almost glowing. And he didn't seem to notice the cold. It was freezing outside, but he was wearing a thin shirt like it was nothing."
My breath caught. Golden eyes, imposing stature, and an indifference to the cold—this description could only fit Matthew. No one else had that combination of traits, at least not anyone I'd ever known. My mind reeled with questions. Why would he risk coming here? What was his purpose? And more importantly, was he safe?
Barron's voice cut through my racing thoughts. "Deb? Are you okay? You've gone pale."
I blinked, trying to steady the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "Where exactly did you see him?" My voice came out more urgent than I'd intended.
"Just outside Ablach, at a small café near the border." Barron's brow furrowed slightly as concern softened his voice. "Deborah, is he someone you know?"
"I think so," I replied, my words barely audible, almost to myself. Then I sat up straighter, forcing myself to focus. I locked eyes with Barron, my voice firm this time. "Barron, can I trust you?"
His demeanor shifted instantly. He straightened his back, his features growing more serious. "Of course," he said without hesitation, his tone steady. "You can trust me with anything."
I studied him for a moment, searching his face for any sign of doubt or hesitation. There was none—only sincerity. "Then you have to promise me something," I said. "You must not tell anyone about this. No one."
Barron didn't flinch. Instead, he raised his hand in a gesture of solemnity. "I swear on the Thorne family name—"
"Stop," I interrupted, leaning forward quickly to place my hand over his mouth. His lips felt warm against my palm, his eyes widened in surprise. "That's enough. I believe you."
For a moment, he froze, then slowly leaned back as I pulled my hand away. His expression shifted to one of curiosity mixed with determination. "Alright," he said quietly. "Then what do we do?"
I didn't hesitate. "We find him," I said, my voice resolute. "Right now."
Barron blinked, momentarily surprised, before a grin spread across his face. "Right now?" His tone was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of excitement. "Alright. Let's go."
He pushed his chair back and stood, his movements quick but smooth. I followed suit, barely stopping to think as I grabbed my coat from the back of my chair. Barron gestured for me to lead the way, his energy contagious.
The gravity of the situation hit me as we moved. Matthew might have been out there, waiting, or worse—he could have been in danger. But for the first time in weeks, I felt something more than fear or calculation. I felt hope.
He stood, smoothing his jacket, then looked down at me with an almost playful glint in his eye. "I knew being around you would be interesting."
I didn't bother responding to his quip, already heading toward the exit. Behind me, I could hear his light chuckle as he hurried to catch up.