Page 12 of Cruel Revenge
Hasan was on a different level. His future father-in-law was ancient and powerful. There were probably fewer than five supernaturals in the world who could give the old werecat a real fight. Heath knew he wasn’t one of them.
The sensation faded, though. Heath knew Hasan wouldn’t. They were still working on what their relationship was going to look like now that they were working together on the Tribunal.
“Landon isn’t invited to this meeting. Not yet,” Hasan said simply as he stood up. He went to the office door, closing them in. “And before I get into more serious topics, I have some good news.”
“Was I waiting on news from you?” Heath asked, frowning.
“I handled Brion for you,” Hasan said with a weary smile. “Every adult in your pack will be given staff access to the Tribunal through a monitored door in your pack house.”
“Thank you…” Heath wasn’t expecting that. He’d been prepared to debate with Brion, to push and potentially fight with the fae king over his delays in letting Heath have his people in the Tribunal.
“Jacky walked in on me handling it yesterday, and it turned a bit messy, but Jacky isn’t a member of the Tribunal. You are,” Hasan said, the weary smile turning annoyed. “Brion doesn’t like either of you. Jacky hates him.”
“So do I,” Heath admitted.
“He and I were once… as close to friends as I could ever become to anyone. The years have obviously put a strain on that. His actions haven’t helped.” Hasan shook his head and waved his hand, dismissing the topic before Heath could say any more about it. “Either way, I cleared your schedule of that appointment you had, so you could come with me.”
“Go with you?” Heath crossed his arms, studying the old werecat ruler. “Why would I go anywhere with you?”
“My mate wants us to have a conversation,” Hasan explained.
Heath took a moment to study the old werecat. Hasan didn’t show any signs of tension. There was no smell of annoyance at his words. His expression was one of acceptance.
“Is that really… necessary?” Heath didn’t feel threatened, but the idea of going to speak alone with Hasan, with Subira mediating, didn’t feelsafe,either.
“You’re marrying our daughter… There are things you need to know, things she’s never been allowed to tell you, but things you have to understand,” Hasan said softly, his eyes that werecat gold that only Jacky matched. “It would be better if Subira and I told you those things instead of forcing Jacky to reveal them and put her in an uncomfortable position.”
“Fair enough.” Heath nodded. “Is this stuff I should keep from everyone else?”
Hasan’s predatory smile was all the warning Heath needed to keep everything he learned not just to himself, but unspoken at all. These were viciously guarded secrets.
Hasan opened his closet door, revealing a different office.
“Come with me,” Hasan said, walking through the door. Heath was left following, unsure where this door was going to lead. As he entered Hasan’s other office, Landon walked into Hasan’s Tribunal office.
“I’ll be back,” Heath promised. Landon made a face, but didn’t chase after him.
“On my children, I will return your father alive,” Hasan said, then closed the door.
“I hope you meant alive and unharmed,” Heath said softly, staring at Hasan’s back since the werecat hadn’t turned toward him again.
“I have no intention of harming you, but I can’t keep you from stubbing a toe,” Hasan retorted as he walked through the office and opened another door, leading to a hall.
“Fair enough,” Heath said, pushing his hands into his pockets, following Hasan out of this office. Heath had two guesses about where he suddenly was. The mysterious island he only heard whispers about or Africa, in Subira’s territory, where no werewolf had tread in probably thousands of years, if ever.
Leaving the office, Heath noticed the lack of windows, frowning. Instead, there were paintings of various styles and qualities. From masterfully painted landscapes and portraits to a finger painting from a child, the walls were a real display of art that must have been meaningful to the one who hung them up. Heath couldn’t resist lingering on the finger painting, as it reminded him of a few crayon drawings he never let Carey know he still had.
“Amir painted that for his grandmama recently,” Hasan said, his words softer than Heath had ever heard them. The gentleness was that of an endearing and aged grandfather, something Hasan didn’t look like.
“Zuri’s little one, right? Jacky and Zuri say he’s going to be our ring bearer,” Heath said, chuckling. He never met the little nephew of Jacky’s. He only knew Zuri’s husband by name, Kushim.
“Whatever the ladies want, they get. He’ll be three by the time you and Jacky get married, so he can certainly walk,” Hasan said, shrugging. “He’ll need one of his older cousins to help him get down the aisle without losing the rings, but it should be fine.”
Heath nodded slowly, before turning to see another painting, one of a landscape he had only ever seen on television—lions lying in the sun on the Savannah.
“Come, before my wife grows impatient.”
“My apologies. Whoever painted that scene did a wonderful job of it.”
