Page 131 of Heart of the High King
“Have you finally reached my brother?” Sullivan asked, and Rafe thought he deserved an award for the hope he managed to put into his voice. Or perhaps he wanted to be assured Rafe was truly at D’Vaire, so he could plan some lame attempt to finish the job he’d started. Rafe almost wished his ass would show up at the gates so someone inside could flatten him.
“Hi, Sully,” Rafe drawled, wrapping his free hand around Aleksander’s forearm. His mate was his anchor, and he wanted him to make him proud by facing his family.
“Rafferty! For Fate’s sake, where have you been all these months? I’ve spoken with Kendrick, and he told me you didn’t get to D’Vaire until recently. Why would you put everyone…including your mate…through this? His Highness is here too. Father, it’s Rafferty on the phone.”
“Boy, is that truly you?” his father barked through the line. “You have a great deal of explaining to do. I taught you a matebond comes above everything. Those D’Vaires contacted us plenty searching for you, not to mention my dear heart, broken at the loss of my middle son. Not that we even knew you had a mate. What kind of fool notion did you have in your head not to share that with us? We had to learn it on the television like we were complete strangers to you.”
Their insistence that he had simply taken off amused Rafe. If this was their defense, then they surely misunderstood how thorough fallen knights were. There might not be anything to hold them accountable now, but Rafe had absolute trust in the Reverent Knights. Aleksander was observing him carefully, no doubt looking for fear or pain, but the only thing Rafe found inside was a burning rage for justice for what they’d nearly robbed him of. “My name is High King Rafe D’Vairedraconis. I haven’t given you leave to drop my title, nor will I. It’s foolish of you to pretend that you didn’t know where I was since you’re the ones who took me to Kentucky. Have you conveniently forgotten the mine where you chained me up? I’m sure you’ve got it cleaned up now. It must’ve shocked the shit out of you when you discovered I was gone. You probably hoped I was dead in a ditch somewhere. Guess what, fuckers? Sorcery D’Vaire cured me of everything. Every scar you burned, whipped, or etched into my skin is now a memory, but I won’t forget them. I remember how I got them and who did it. Would you like to discuss it?”
“What kind of cockamamie story is this?” Charlton demanded. “All I’ve done your whole life is care for you. Did someone hurt you? You must’ve taken a hit to the brain if you think I have any responsibility for that.”
“Your Highness, it’s possible that your memories have become twisted,” Sullivan reasoned. “We’re your family. Why would we do anything to cause you pain?”
“I believe you told me it was because I was a fucking faggot,” Rafe stated without inflection while Conley’s lip curled in disgust.
The silence on the other line was deafening, and Rafe imagined the pair were staring at each other stupidly, trying to come up with another lie to serve them.
“Your Highness, there’s nothing wrong with being gay, and you shouldn’t use the word ‘faggot,’ ” Sullivan said. “I’m sorry you aren’t comfortable with your sexuality, but again, you’re projecting your issues onto us.”
Something inside of Rafe snapped, and he bared his teeth. “Look, you miserable fucks, I don’t have any damn problem with my sexuality, despite growing up with a bunch of brainless assholes that were complete homophobes. You can keep up this psychotic plan to try and convince everyone I’m fucking confused, but it’s not going to work. I don’t care how long it takes, I’m going to nail your asses to the wall,” Rafe yelled. “You will not get away with nearly destroying me.”
Conley tapped the phone, ending the call before anyone on the other end had a chance to respond to Rafe’s tirade. Blinking slowly, Rafe’s lashes slipped down as Aleksander cupped his head and pressed his lips to his mess of curls. Needing his mate, he met Aleksander’s mouth in a soft caress that melted away Rafe’s anger.
“Sorry,” Rafe murmured. “That probably didn’t help much.”
“Don’t worry, they weren’t going to incriminate themselves,” Conley assured him. “I’m going to talk to Alaric. I think if both the fallen knights and the Sentinel Brotherhood continue to pressure King Kestle and everyone in their court, someone will crack. We’ll get this.”
“I trust you guys,” Rafe told him. Smiling at Aleksander once he released his gentle hold, he faced the Reverent Knights. “I can wait for justice.”
“You’re pretty fucking awesome, you know that?” Conley said to Rafe. “Aleksander, you’re a lucky bitch, and have I told you how damn good you look together?”
“No, and please keep saying it,” Aleksander teased, running a hand over Rafe’s back. “You did a great job talking to those asshats.”
“Hate them,” Mortis said with a growl.
“Thanks, Sander—and me too, Mortis.” Rafe had a great deal of respect for people who managed to give forgiveness, but he’d found that deep well didn’t exist inside him. After their betrayal, Rafe doubted he’d ever have an ounce of mercy for Sullivan or Charlton.
