Chapter 173

Maeve’s POV

The gravel crunched beneath the tires of the black car as we pulled up to the main entrance of the Garrison farmhouse. "Farmhouse" was a modest term for the sprawling, timber-framed estate that rose out of the Bavarian mist.

It looked like a fortress carved from oak and stone, surrounded by rolling hills and ancient forests.

I sat in the back seat, my hands folded tightly in my lap. I