Page 130 of Heart of the High King
Wary of any confrontation under Aleksander’s roof and too bruised by his family to get into an altercation with his brother, Rafe froze stupidly. “Huh?”
Mortis let out a growl. “Mean.”
“Are you telling him to do that to scare me?” Kendrick asked, backing up a step. His attention was fixed on the wolf who hadn’t moved a muscle. Mortis was a sentinel too honorable to attack anyone without reason. Incorruptible, all sentinels lived by an extreme code of ethics.
“I don’t give him orders,” Rafe stated, proud that he could string a sentence together.
“Sullivan texted me, you know. Nobody had any clue where the fuck you were. They’re worried sick. Why didn’t you let them know you were okay? I guess the same reason you chose to keep Aleksander guessing. You must fucking live for drama.”
“Please don’t get into my business,” was all Rafe said as he walked out of the kitchen and went straight into the office, where Aleksander was at his desk. Worth was hunched in a chair, typing away on his computer, and he could see Kitchi through the connecting door on the phone. Mac and Brogan were sprawled on the sofas, and whatever conversation they were having stopped the moment they spotted Rafe.
They went silent and stared at him, making Rafe wonder if everyone thought as much of him as Kendrick did but were simply better at hiding it. It was because of Aleksander that he’d been gifted with healing and any kindness, and it would be foolish of Rafe to forget that. Not the type of person people took to easily, it was only the man picked for him by Fate that had ever cared for him unconditionally.
When his eyes met Aleksander’s, his mate’s brow creased. “What’s up, babe?”
“Nothing. When are Conley and Drystan going to be here?”
“Any minute now. Brogan, tell them to meet us in the Royal Den.”
The Grand Duke assured him he would do just that, and Aleksander grabbed Rafe’s hand to lead him across the hall. Once the door was shut he pulled him into a hug. “You look upset, you okay?”
“Nervous, I guess,” Rafe replied. Unwilling to cause discord if he could manage it, he stuffed Kendrick’s words into the part of his brain with all the rest of the shit his family had done to him. While it was highly unlikely he’d ever deserve Aleksander, he had no intention of letting him go either, so Rafe pressed his lips to his mate’s and decided at some point he’d be honest enough to tell him about Kendrick’s displeasure.
A knock sounded on the door just as he leaned up for another kiss, and it opened to reveal the Reverent Knights.
“Yay,” Mortis said, running to them with his tail wagging like a giant dog.
The men in the room greeted each other, and after the fallen knights were done giving affection to Mortis, they took seats around the round table in the center of the space.
“How’re you feeling?” Conley asked.
“I don’t think I’ve felt this good in my life,” Rafe revealed. “I got so much work done this morning, and I’ve still got tons of energy. Plus, I can eat what I want.”
“I’m so damn happy for you guys.”
“Thanks, so what brings you here?”
“You mean besides dinner since Con can’t cook?” Drystan asked, which earned him a glare. “We’ve been inundated by phone calls from King Kestle and Duke Sullivan.”
Aleksander’s face went stony, and his fingers tightened around Rafe’s hand where they were locked together. “What the fuck do they want?”
“They claim to be distraught with worry over Duke Rafferty, who simply up and left Court Kestle,” Drystan drawled.
“We had an idea, but I want you to know that there’s no obligation here. We thought you could call King Kestle. See how he reacts. If you don’t feel comfortable doing that, it’s fine. No pressure, okay?” Conley asked.
Rafe lifted his chin. “I’m not afraid of them. They can’t hurt me again. I’ll call them if you think it’ll help.”
“We’re not sure it’ll amount to anything, but maybe something will slip,” Drystan responded.
Rafe found the High King he loved studying him with affection and awe. “You’re incredible, do you know that?”
“Shut up,” he said, his face blazing with heat and a stupid grin on his face. Turning back to the Reverent Knights, he got a kiss on one of his red cheeks. “Let’s do this, yeah?”
Conley put his phone in the center of the table as it rang.
“Duke Sullivan,” his brother said. His voice made a shiver go down Rafe’s spine but not in terror. No, what Rafe wanted was justice for the bastard who’d masqueraded as his brother for eight centuries.
“Your Grace, it’s RK Conley. I’m here with my mate. Do you have a minute? We have someone who’d like to speak with you and King Kestle.”
