Chapter Eighteen
The hours passed in a blur, and all along, Beth had a familiar worry settle over her.
There was so much that had to happen, and daylight was coming like a freight train for them all.
After they left Emile’s parents’, they went to the second family’s equally impressive estate, where they broke the same news, to the same kind of grief.
She remained struck by how honest and real the emotions had been with both families, no social airs or propriety bullshit being bandied around.
It was a reminder that labels didn’t tell the whole story of people, and not everybody who was in the glymera was more concerned with pretention than their own children.
And now, following a meeting with the Brotherhood, she and Wrath were at the training center.
As they walked down the main concrete hallway from the parking area, she glanced into the classrooms. All the tables and chairs were vacant at the moment, but soon enough, another class would come through.
The Brotherhood fielded new candidates every three years, with the school curriculum lasting about twelve months, and the physical and weapons training taking twice that long.
The idea that they were sending even more sons and daughters to the slaughter made her want to scream.
“You know,” Wrath said, “you make an excellent guide.”
She pulled herself out of that spiral and gave his arm a squeeze. “Why, thank you. And I have to say that even though I don’t want to put George out of a job, I do love being with you. Even as I wish it had been on such different circumstances tonight.”
As for the whole service-shellan bit, it was kind of amazing how easily he followed her lead.
Her mate seemed to anticipate where she was going to direct him, her clues so subtle, she couldn’t believe he picked up on them.
Sure, he was used to being taken around, but she looked at it as a reminder of exactly how in tune they were with each other—
Down at the clinical section of the facility, Doc Jane stepped out of the doorway of one of the patient rooms. Her expression was what everybody called “Professional Composure Jane.” So yeah, she was having a really long night.
“Hi.” Beth lifted her free hand in greeting as they came up to her. “Do you have…Emile and his friend?”
“Yes, and they were both prepared on the way over here.” Doc Jane nodded over her shoulder. “I’ve set them up in these two rooms.”
On that note, the female reopened the door she’d come out of.
Inside, Emile was arranged on the bed, with the covers pulled up to his chin.
The transformation was stunning. His face had been cleaned off, his blond hair washed and arranged, and there must have been some makeup applied because the skin tone was healthy, not gray.
It looked like he was just sleeping.
“That’s a miracle,” Beth whispered as she looked down the length of the bed.
“Ehlena does the best job. She brought her kit and her assistant with her to the garage and worked quickly on the way up here.”
For no particular reason, Beth glanced around the patient room even though she’d been in it a million times before.
The clinic had expanded over the last couple of decades, more state-of-the-art equipment being moved in, the crematorium and embalming center added, as well.
And God, she wished none of it ever had to be used.
Unfortunately, these parts of the facility were in service way too often. Especially lately.
With a murmur, Wrath dropped her arm and walked off by himself. As she pivoted toward him, she didn’t know where he was going, whether he needed some time, or…what was going on. But after a nod of gratitude toward Doc Jane, she jogged after him.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Before he could answer, Tohr pushed open the glass door of the office.
“Oh, Tohr is here,” she said, unnecessarily. Jesus, her mate had a helluva nose.
Wrath nodded to her. And then called forward, “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“Yeah, probably,” the Brother said as he limped out into the corridor. “Duty calls. You got a minute? To talk privately.”
Just as Beth opened her mouth to take her leave, Wrath put his arm around her. “My leelan comes with.”
Tohr bowed. And then wobbled as he straightened. “Of course. Let’s do this in my admin digs.”
The training center’s office was a tight space, and the desk and chairs didn’t help.
But at least Tohr had something to collapse into as he went around and dumped himself into the seat from which he ran the training center.
And on the whole, he looked a little better.
He was pale except for where the bruising was still coming up in his face, and his navy blue eyes were low-lidded and kind of glassy—but his voice was strong.
“Thank you for seeing me,” he started.
“Cut to the chase.” Wrath leaned back against the glass wall. “Just say it.”
“The Brotherhood…”
“Picked a bad fucking night to expect you to be upright and ready to argue with me.” Wrath turned his head in her direction. Turned it back to his Brother. “Have you two been talking?”
As she met Tohr’s eyes, she shook her head. “No.”
“No,” the Brother echoed. “And that’s the truth. You can smell it.”
“But he and I are thinking the same thing,” she murmured. “Aren’t we, Tohr?”
The battered fighter nodded and sat forward, his hands resting on the desk. “You can’t leave the throne, Wrath. You really can’t.”
There was a long silence. And then, through the glass, she saw Emile’s parents stop in front of the examination room he was in. Rhage and Phury were with them, the Brothers standing sentry to the crushed couple who were clearly taking a moment to brace themselves before they saw their son.
Despite their tailored, expensive clothes, they were utterly disheveled, and between one blink and the next, Beth recalled the female hit the floor at her grand, formal house, her Chanel suit matching the black and white marble tile of her foyer with its bouquets of fresh flowers, even though it was winter.
Grief was both individual and universal, wasn’t it. Sparing no one, no matter how rich. And she couldn’t help but measure them against what she had seen those years ago at the Audience House, so much ahead of the family, so much to look forward to.
They just hadn’t known what fate was really going to deliver to them.
And as the father and mahmen looked desperately to Doc Jane for some last-minute reprieve that they had to know wouldn’t be—couldn’t be—coming, Beth knew that there was only one thing that might bring them some relief:
A leader. Who was going to take charge and fight.
“Dresden and his shellan are here,” she said roughly as she looked back at Wrath. “Your civilians need their King, even the aristocrats. Especially on a night like tonight.”
Those black brows dropped down behind the wraparounds. And before he could speak, she cut in. “They deserve to see their King, Wrath. This is…the worst moment of their life. They need you. We all need you.”
“She’s right.” Tohr cleared his throat. “We’re not going to make it without you on the throne. Not with where this war is heading.”
Wrath shook his head. “I get the sentiment, I fucking do. But I’m not losing my mating over the job. That will not happen. So, something’s got to give—”
“I will,” she choked out. “I’ll give in.
L.W. was right. I don’t want a pass just because you’re the King.
All the other mates worry about their hellrens and shellans out in the field.
I want you to do what you have to for the species, for the Brotherhood…
for me. For L.W. Do what you have been born and bred to do, for all of us. I will deal. Somehow.”
Wrath lowered his head. And then in a hoarse voice, the great Blind King said, “I can’t live with you and me at odds.
I will fuck off the species, the Brotherhood, even our own son.
” His chin re-leveled, and his head turned toward her once more.
“As a bonded male, you always come first to me—that’s never going to change. So this is your decision, really.”
She went over to him and took his face in her hands. “I love you. I’m with you. And I want you to be our King. That’s my decision.”
His exhale was full of emotion. “Are you sure.”
“Yes. I am.”
He stayed where he was for the longest time.
Then he set her back from him and slowly bowed to her.
Taking her hand, he lifted the Saturnine Ruby he had given her all those years ago, running his thumb back and forth over the huge stone.
She’d put the gem back on before they’d met with the Brotherhood earlier, and she’d made sure he’d felt it on her.
“Okay. As you wish…my Queen.”
Wrath straightened at the same time she started pulling him to her. As their lips met, she felt an even stronger level lock on between them, so much deeper, and even more meaningful.
A new connection.
A new mating vow.
As they eased back, he nodded at her. “Anything for you.”
A relieved curse brought their attention to Tohr. Behind the desk, the Brother closed his eyes and let his head fall back in his office chair.
“Thank you, baby Jesus,” he said under his breath. “Fuuuuuuck. Can I go back to bed now before I go into cardiac arrest. I can’t take much more of tonight.”