#Chapter 227: Private conversations

“Quite a view,” Grayson muttered, gazing out the picture window in my study. The day was brisk, with a chilling breeze that had scrubbed the blue sky clear. “I suppose I take it for granted much of the time,” I confessed. During our brunch, Fiona had communicated to me that she believed Grayson was sincere in his professions of loyalty and respect for us. She believed it safe to move to the next stage with these people. We still knew very little about them, of course, but my wolf’s instinct told me hers was right. And so I invited Grayson here for a private conversation after the morning’s feast adjourned. I eased into one of the two armchairs flanking the table under the window and motioned for my guest to sit with me. I was acutely aware that it was not all that long ago that I was sitting right here with my father, watching him guzzle spiked coffee and discussing his incompetence in knowing how to respond to the vampire resurgence. That was mere months ago, but so, so much had ch