Boaz didn’t know the exact location of the house, only that it was somewhere in the mountains. Still, he believed that once he got there, he would figure out the rest of the way.
Ten hours later, he arrived in a picturesque town. The streets were blanketed in snow, and smoke curled lazily from chimney tops. It looked like one of those dreamy towns from a romantic film. In the distance, the mountains rose sharply, with no clear road leading up to them.
He was going to have to make it up there on foot, Boaz thought as he drove through the town and eventually reached where the road ended. He parked the car, stepped out, and scanned the area. Snow lay thick on the ground, and dense pine trees stood packed together, dark against the white.
He pulled the baby carrier from the case and secured it to his chest. Then he lifted Michael from his seat and carefully strapped him in, making sure he was snug and safe. He took out an oversized down jacket he had bought for this exact purposeand pulled it on, wrapping it around Michael as well, shielding him completely. A beanie went over his head next.
Once he was sure everything was packed away and the car was locked, he turned toward the mountains and took a deep breath.
“Are you up for a walk in the snow?” Boaz asked as he carefully made his way up the barely visible trail.
He stepped over fallen trees and half-buried stones, each step slow and deliberate. The snow was deep, making every movement heavier than the last, but he pushed on anyway.
Every so often, he checked on Michael, making sure he was still comfortable and secure against his chest. The baby seemed fine, calm in the steady rhythm of Boaz’s steps.
Boaz kept his footing careful, pausing when he needed to catch his breath, refusing to rush.
Finally, he let out a quiet sigh of relief as the trees opened into a clearing.
The castle stood majestic and almost otherworldly among the trees, right at the foot of the mountain, shrouded in drifting mist.
Boaz walked up to the heavy door and knocked.
He glanced down into his jacket, checking on Michael, and found him sleeping soundly against his chest.
The door swung open a few minutes later. A young vampire stood there, staring at him in clear shock.
“It’s you,” he said. “You’re the werewolf who saved our king.”
“Yes, it’s me. Can you please let me in?” Boaz replied, shifting slightly as he placed a hand on Michael’s back. “I need to get out of the cold.”
“Of course,” he said, stepping aside.
Boaz stepped inside, immediately noticing how warm and cozy the foyer was, as if the vampires living there had designed it to hold in heat against the cold outside. He unzipped the oversized jacket and pulled it off, handing it over.
The vampire’s eyes lingered on Michael, staring as though he had never seen a baby before. He probably hadn’t.
“Uhm… Alexander’s parents. Are they home?” Boaz asked, gently shifting his attention away from the child.
“Yes, they’re home. I’ll go call them,” he said, then pointed Boaz down the hallway. “You should wait in here.”
He opened the door to a waiting room. Several couches sat arranged in the center, and a fire crackled in the fireplace.
Boaz walked over to it and held out his hands toward the warmth, hissing slightly as the ache in his fingers set in.
“Damn, my hands were frozen,” he muttered to himself.
He carefully lifted Michael out of the carrier to check on him, but the baby seemed perfectly fine. If anything, he tolerated the cold better than Boaz did.
“You took that from your father, didn’t you?” Boaz said softly, holding him against his chest. He turned toward the couch just as Drago walked in.
Boaz startled at the sight of him. The vampire never failed to remind him of Alexander.
Drago settled his piercing gaze on him. “You have a baby,” he said with a frown.
“Yes,” Boaz replied, walking over to one of the couches and sitting down. “Are your parents coming? I’d like to tell everyone at the same time.”
“They’ll be here in a minute. What’s going on?”