Chapter 98 Knitting the Family Together
Fennigan spent the rest of the meal pushing a piece of perfectly seared steak around his plate, his appetite completely gone. While the others ate and chatted with forced cheerfulness, he focused entirely on the twins.
He was less of an Alpha and more of a jungle gym. Caspian was trying to braid his fingers, while Briar was content to use his bicep as a pillow, her earlier tears forgotten. Every time he looked down at them, he saw the reason for his earlier outburst. He saw the innocence he had just violently protected from Thorpe’s well-meaning but dangerous plan.
When the last of the potatoes were gone and the plates were cleared, the shift in the room was palpable.
"Alright," Elana said, wiping her hands and standing up. "Kitchen closed. The boys have 'business' to discuss, and these babies smell like beef and biscuits."
Fennigan reluctantly handed Briar over to Ginny, who cooed at the sleepy girl, and passed a protesting Caspian to Leela.
"Go," Leela whispered, leaning in to kiss Fennigan’s cheek. She lingered for a second, her voice dropping so only he could hear. "Figure it out, Fenn. But come back to us."
Fennigan nodded, his jaw tight. He watched them leave the kitchen—the women and children ascending the back stairs—before the mask slammed back down over his face.
"Study," he barked at the men. "Now."
As soon as the heavy oak doors clicked shut, the air in the room curdled. Damon went straight to the liquor cabinet to refill the glasses, while Jax paced the length of the rug.
Elder Thorpe sank into his chair, looking old and frustrated. "Fennigan, I understand your protective instinct. Truly, I do. But you just vetoed the only weapon we have to use against Vane."
"I vetoed a suicide mission," Fennigan corrected, leaning against the desk, his arms crossed. "You don't send a trauma survivor to the scene of the crime to channel the weapon that killed the Whisper Wind lands. That isn't strategy, Thorpe. That’s cruelty."
"Then what is the strategy?" Elder Horne asked, his voice rasping. "Because Vane isn't going to stop. If we can't use the Lex Terrae because we lack a witness... how do we touch him?"
"We find another way to trigger the law," Fennigan said, his mind racing. "We don't need Leela to go there. We just need the land to speak. Is there no other way? No other ritual? No other Elemental residue we can use?"
The men fell into a grim silence, the fire popping in the grate as they scrambled for a Plan B.
Meanwhile, the atmosphere upstairs was thick with humidity, warmth, and the soothing scent of lavender baby wash and strawberry bubble bath.
Ginny knelt by the large porcelain tub, her pregnant belly making the angle awkward, but she refused to sit out. She squeezed a sponge over Briar’s back as she kicked at the water, while Leela managed a slippery Caspian, who was currently trying to stuff bubbles into his mouth.
"He's terrified, you know," Ginny said softly, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them. She didn't look at Leela, just focused on rinsing the soap from Briar’s curls. "Fennigan. I haven't seen him look like that since... well, since the day the twins were born. The day he thought he lost you."
Leela nodded, catching Caspian before he could slide under the water. She wiped his face with a washcloth. He had stopped eating the bubbles and was now chewing very loudly on a rubber duck.
"He thinks he has to carry the sky by himself," Leela murmured. "He thinks if he lets his guard down for one second, Vane will swoop in."
"Can you blame him?" Ginny asked, handing Leela a towel as she lifted Briar out. "After what Thorpe said in the study? I didn't hear it all, but the walls are thin. Something about... using you?"
Leela froze for a fraction of a second, wrapping Caspian in a hooded towel that looked like a bear.
"They wanted me to go to Whisper Wind," Leela guessed, her intuition sharp as ever. "That's why he shouted."
Ginny’s eyes widened. "Go to Whisper Wind? Into that Dead Zone?"
"Yeah," Leela sighed, hugging the damp, warm bundle of her son against her chest. "And Fennigan would burn the world down before he let me do that."
Downstairs in the living room, Elana sat in her favorite armchair, the rhythmic click-click-click of her knitting needles the only sound in the quiet house. She was knitting a blanket—yellow, Ginny and Jax's baby, she had to get it finished so she could start the next one for Fenn and Leela. But her eyes were fixed on the fire. She was the anchor of this house, holding the tension of the men below and the gentleness of the women above, knitting the family together while the world tried to pull them apart.