Caspian's past life as a master architect rarely bled into his daily duties as the Merman King, but when it came to constructing a permanent settlement on our territory, his obsessive attention to detail was unleashed in its full, terrifying glory.
I walked down the stone path toward the eastern gardens, carrying a massive woven tray of warm blueberry scones and iced tea. The temporary canvas pavilions were already being dismantled. In their place, a true construction zone had emerged, buzzing with the chaotic, highly efficient energy of the Warlord pack.
Standing in the center of the clearing, holding a massive scroll of blueprints, was my husband. Caspian had his silver hair tied back, his sleeves rolled up, and a piece of charcoal tucked behind his ear.
