Just over two and a half weeks later, Tait maneuvered his dumpy little boat through the many small islands that clogged the harbor and hid the raider city from the view of anyone sailing on by the eastern islands.

He was home. At last.

Elenthea stood at his side, her many flowing layers of wool dancing a bit in the stiff and ugly winter wind as her head whipped this way and that, taking it all in. He wondered what she thought as she looked around, because none of this shit was a raft. There wasn’t a pontoon in sight.

There were jagged little islands covered in rocky outcroppings and hardy evergreens. There were treacherous currents and nasty waves and towering cliffs on either side of the bay, seeming to stretch all the way up into the brooding, waiting rainclouds above.

And as he navigated around the last island, the raider city sprawled there across the hill. The docks at the water’s edge and the village marching up the side of the mountain. Tidy little houses and bright colors, with smoke coming out of the chimneys. Pockets of mist and the winding paths that served as roads, meandering this way and that through the village.

Halfway up the mountain that loomed high above the island sat the Lodge, the highest building in the city. The home of the king. The place where the brothers lived and the clan gathered during festivals and the long winter months, in Wulf’s Great Hall.

He’d finally made it home.

Tait didn’t realize until this very minute, powering this piece of shit boat up to the docks where he’d played as a child and learned to work when he was in his teens, how little he’d believed he’d ever make it back here.

And it was even better now. Even better than he remembered, because he had Elenthea. His mate, if he had anything to say about it, just as soon as he could claim her.

He wasn’t surprised to find the docks empty and the beach deserted as he drew near. Save, of course, for the lone figure who stood there, waiting, on the shore with arms crossed and a battle stance.

Tait knew that he’d been under watch since the moment they’d been sighted off the coast of the island, which would have been some time ago. He hadn’t heard the horns, but he knew they would have blown to herald the arrival of some janky ass ship into the harbor that was virtually undetectable through what looked like a tiny little crack in the cliff wall unless you knew what you were looking for.

He hadn’t seen any evidence of it as he made his way through the bristling islands that choked the bay and served as the clan’s second best defense, but he’d known that the brothers were there. Watching.

Always watching and always, always ready to party.

“Only one man?” Elenthea asked from beside him, her hands hooked into his trousers the way she liked to do. Like she wanted to be on a leash—which made him hard in an instant. “That doesn’t seem safe.”

Tait laughed. He cut the shitty old motor that he was surprised had worked at all, much less across the miles they’d traveled in these last few weeks, and pulled the lever to raise it up, letting the boat run aground, straight into the sandy beach.

“This is some pure raider shit you’re witnessing, baby,” he told her. “There are brothers everywhere, just waiting for us to make a move.” When she frowned at him, he laughed again. “We don’t like to show our hand to intruders.”

The man who waited for them was tall, broad—much bigger than Tait. He didn’t look unlike the mountains all around, in fact. He had red hair and a red beard, and made no secret of the fact he was wielding the axe he held like the deadly weapon it was.

Jurin. One of the fiercest and most respected brothers in the clan. Tait was amazed at the punch of emotion that hit him then.

Jurin’s was one more face he’d never thought he’d see again. If he didn’t think the other brother would cold cock him, he’d be tempted to give the big red motherfucker a kiss.

“I heard you were washed out to sea, Brother,” Jurin boomed out, and then laughed, big and loud and so boisterous it seems to make the hills move. But Tait knew that was just more of his brothers, coming out of the places where they’d concealed themselves and drifting down to see what Jurin found so unthreatening. So funny when it had looked like an intruder. “An impressive way to get out of a boring watch duty.”

“Even the sea wants a piece of me,” Tait replied with a grin. “It’s a curse.”

He didn’t ask if the king and his most trusted brothers had already left to carry out Wulf’s daring plan to topple a kingdom or two on the mainland. There would be time for that. Right now, there was his homecoming to honor appropriately. And a pretty little thing from a floating city to bring into the clan.

He pulled Elenthea with him as he moved, over to the side of the boat so he could look down at his brothers as they gathered on the sand. His friends. His family. His home, at last.

“Ready?” he asked her. Maybe a little gruffly, to cover that tightness in his throat.

Her eyes were so blue, and sparkling now, as if she found all of this magical. Or maybe it was just him she found magical, and Tait found he was okay with that, too. She wrinkled up her nose, drawing attention to the beautiful shape of her red-brown face and that lovely smile of hers. She was imprinted on him now. Lodged deep inside him, like a scar across his heart, earned in the best kind of battle.

He planned to wear it proudly for the rest of his life.

“Ready for a brand-new life with you?” Elenthea asked, all that laughter in her voice that made him hard and made him ache and made him resolved to claim her within the hour. Formally. So there could be no mistake, because his brothers were a bunch of horny bastards. And Elenthea was his. End of story. “I can’t wait.”

And so they jumped.

Off the boat, off the treacherous water at last, and into the rest of their lives.

Together.