Blood Vow (Black Dagger Legacy #2)(130)

At that moment, there was a chiming sound from the vestibule door and Mary glanced at the security screen. “Oh, it’s Saxton.”

She went over and let the King’s attorney in. “Come to join the festivities?”

The blond-haired lawyer was perfectly dressed as always, a cravat at his neck, his dark suit set off with a coral shirt and pocket square. And oh, dear Lord, did he smell good.

And also, oh, dear Lord, did it feel great to be lighthearted enough to notice that kind of thing.

Ever since Ruhn and Bitty had come forward with The Plan, as Mary thought of it, she felt as though her life had been returned to her. It was incredible. Everything was back to normal, almost like the pain and fear and uncertainty had never happened.

And it was funny … Although Mary didn’t know firsthand what birth was like, she decided that she had been through something at least emotionally similar: She had been out of control, in pain, grinding through hours and days, terrified and in a nightmare that seemed to have no end. Then there had been some tearing, and a vital separation … only, in the end, to have her daughter in her arms, safe, the world righted once again, her life more complete than ever because the transition was over and everyone was okay on the other side.

It was a miracle—and the pain, instead of crippling her and Bitty, had just made their bond stronger.

“Actually,” Saxton said, “I’ve brought the paperwork Ruhn requested.”

As the attorney took a folded sheaf of papers out of his inside pocket, Mary was very aware that both she and Rhage went totally still.

“Ruhn just has to sign them,” Saxton explained gently.

“Sign what?” the male said, as he came back into the foyer with Bitty. “Oh. Yes, please.”

As he spoke, Saxton turned—and did a double take.

“You haven’t met, have you,” Mary said. “Saxton, this is Bitty’s uncle, Ruhn. Ruhn, this is Saxton, keeper of all papers, strategist, and all-around great person.”

Saxton stared at the other male as Ruhn bowed low. “Sire.”

There was a pause. And then Saxton offered his palm. “Please. Just Saxton.”

Ruhn stared at what was outstretched in confusion. “My … ah, my hands are rough.”

“But of course,” Saxton murmured as he dropped his arm. “Would you care to review this and give it your signature?”

As things got quiet, Mary stepped up. “Are you sure you want to—”

“Yes,” Ruhn said. “There needs to be clarity in the event decisions have to be made or if she is unable to communicate in a medical crisis.”

For some reason, Mary got teary again. And then she remembered his limitations. “But you need to know what it says.”

“It says you are her parents, right?”

“That’s correct,” she whispered.

“Then I shall sign.”

“It really is prudent,” Saxton interjected. “So let us go into the library and you two should come as well.”

“This way,” Mary said as she started across the depiction of an apple tree in full bloom. “Rhage?”

“Right behind you. Bitty, give the grown-ups two secs, ’kay? Go find Lassiter and kick him in the butt for me, would you?”

“On it!” the girl said as she tore off in search of the angel.

Once inside the library, Mary shut the doors—and saw that Ruhn was staring at the tree. “Oh, that’s our Christmas stuff. I’m human—or I was. You know. Ah, long story.”

Which made her think of something—

“Would you read the papers to me?” Ruhn asked her. “Please?”

“Oh … yes. Yes, of course.” She took the document from Saxton and they all sat in front of the fire. “This is …” She had to clear her throat as she held the pages out in front of Ruhn. “This is a release of all your … parental rights to Bitty.” She pointed to places. “See, this is your name. This is her name. This text here states that forevermore, you will not make any claim to any custody of her, physical or otherwise, or claim any benefits that may accrue to her, or be a party or consulted about any decisions that affect her life. Do you know … I mean, once you sign this, it’s done. It can’t be undone.”

Ruhn stared at the paper and then pointed to his name. “That’s my name, right there.”

“Yes.”

“Hers … is here.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

He looked at the words for a while. “Funny, this is the only time our names will ever be together.”

Mary swallowed a knot in her throat. “Ruhn, you don’t have—”

“Does someone have a pen?” the male said.

Saxton, who seemed to be holding in some kind of emotion, put a gold one out. “Here, use mine.”

Ruhn took the writing instrument and seemed amazed by it. Then he appeared worried. “I can’t … I don’t really have a signature. I don’t know how to write my name.”

“Any mark,” Saxton said in a soft voice, “will suffice. And I will witness it as your own down below. You want to put it here.”

Ruhn nodded as the lawyer pointed out a line three-quarters of the way down the second page. And then Bitty’s uncle bent down over the document.