“Brothers go out and fight,” she said. “Is that what you’re prepared to do now? Is that what you’re going to go back to?”
“I…don’t know.”
“That’s a yes, if I ever heard one.” As Wrath braced himself for an argument, instead, his mate took a deep breath. “I’m never going to feel good about you in this war.”
When she paused, there were all kinds of things he could say to that statement, none of which were going to help her:I’m trained. I’ve been killing slayers since before you were born. I can handle myself even without sight—
“But all the other fighters are endangering their lives for the species.” The resignation in her voice held no bitterness. “And I don’t think I should be…special.”
He frowned as he interpreted her words a couple of different ways. “I’m sorry. What are you saying?”
“Why should things be different for me. The mates of all the fighters and the Brotherhood worry every night, and their spouses are just as important to them as you are to me. Why should I get a pass just because you’re King.”
“Was King—”
“AreKing.”
He just shook his head again. There was a lot for them to argue about at the moment, but he decided to stick with the big one. “My mind’s made up on that,leelan.”
“The species needs you.”
“And I need you. So, there it is—and L.W. is going to come around.” When she didn’t respond, he squeezed her hand. “He truly is.”
“You don’t know him like I do.”
The resigned words sliced into him, threatening his neat-as-a-bow decisions, reminding him that the real world was fucking messy. Especially in Caldwell-goddamn-New-York.
They fell silent for the rest of the trip on the highway. And then Fritz was making lefts and rights again. As a familiar ache took up all the space in Wrath’s rib cage, the weight of why theywere going where they were got even heavier when they finally rolled to a stop.
“We have arrived at the home of Dresden, son of Emile the Elder,” Fritz announced through the speaker.
Wrath glanced in Beth’s direction. “You sure you want to come with me? Because you can stay—”
“I’m coming.”
Fritz opened the rear door, and Wrath got out first so he could help hisshellaninto the snow that crunched under his shitkickers. As she linked their arms again, she told him when to step over the drifts, and then they were on a shoveled walkway. Up ahead, he heard a large door open, and the acrid scent of tears was so overpowering that the fact that he was in the open air and there was a breeze did nothing to dull the sting in his nose.
“My Lord,” came a choked male voice. “My Queen.”
He was sure there were bows going on. A curtsey, too, given that there was a female scent, along with the masculine one.
“It is an honor to have you—” The male’s voice cracked. “It is an honor to…”
As he couldn’t go on, Beth spoke up. “I am so sorry for the reason we have come.”
“Please,” came the invitation. “Our home is yours.”
Beth helped him navigate the threshold, and as the door was closed, he figured it was probably by a butler in the same formal dress that Fritz wore. If these boys had been friends with Shuli, they had to be aristocrats, and sure enough, the scents indoors were of fresh flowers, even though it was winter. That was theglymerafor you—and chances were so very good that the night had started out with the same restrained elegance and purpose that every evening did for a couple like this.
It wasn’t ending in that vein.
“You found him,” the male said roughly. “Emile.”
Beth was the one who answered. “Yes, we did. I am so sorry—”
Weeping rose up, themahmenclearly breaking apart.
“Have you brought—” The male cleared his throat. “Have you brought our son home?”
