Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 142050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
The door opened behind him, and he knew who it was before he turned around or caught any scent.
Pulling a pivot, he popped his lids.
Wrath, son of Wrath, sire of Wrath, walked in with his service dog like he owned the place, but hey, he did. And with the force of his presence, the great male could no doubt have waltzed into the White House in D.C. and kick out the humans’ president with just a glare. Towering in height, built like the fighter he was bred to be, he was dressed in his uniform, a black muscle shirt and black leathers. There were no weapons on him, and the only markings that showed on his skin were the tattoos of his lineage that ran up his thick forearms. The long black hair falling from a widow’s peak was just like L.W.’s own, and behind those black wraparounds… were eyes that were the same.
“Give us a minute.”
The King spoke and Tohrment, who was at his heel, backed out immediately, taking whichever other Brothers had also come with him. Annnnnnnnnnd that was how shit ran. One look, one word, and people hopped.
L.W. waited as things were shut, and braced for the explosion—
“How you doin’, son.”
That was it. No screaming. No yelling. The guy just walked on past, his golden retriever by his side, the harness handle connecting them like a molecular tie. When the King got to the set of armchairs, he took the one on the left.
Interesting. Rahvyn had always sat on the other side.
Not that it mattered.
“Well?” came the prompt.
As he faced his sire, the Blind King’s wraparounds were orientated straight ahead, those carved arms overflowing the chair, the legs splaying out, the shitkickers making him look like he was prepared to stomp out any disagreement by anyone about anything.
“I fucked off Shuli last night.” L.W. crossed his arms over his chest. “We were in the field and he wanted to divert to a club.”
“So I hear. To check on Lyric.”
“She was fine. It was a waste of time. But I don’t want him getting into trouble. I didn’t give him a choice.”
Those slashing black brows dropped below the shades. “How so.”
“I ghosted him. And then I turned off my phone.”
There was a long pause, and he had the clear impression that his pops was calling on an epic load of self-control. Either that or the male’s jaw was doing chin-ups at his ears just for shits and giggles.
“That was fucking stupid,” came the gritted response. “On so many levels. You may have survived the night—alone, in the goddamn field—but now we gotta contend with the Shuli shit. The punishment for an ahstrux nohtrum if he fails to perform his duty is clear. I can have the male killed. Right now.”
“You won’t do that, though.”
A cold wave blew out across the room to him, and the words that followed made his balls tighten. “Won’t I.”
“No,” he said in the same tone. “It would be unfair. If Shuli fucked me off, that’s one thing, but that’s not what happened. And as for killing me instead, you’d have to tell your mate you offed her only son. Pretty sure that’ll leave you sleeping on the couch for a couple hundred years.”
The armchair creaked as his father leaned forward, plugging his elbows on his knees. For a split second, L.W. considered taking a step back. Even though the male was supposed to be blind, you’d swear those eyes were not just focused on you… they were burning a hole through your flesh and bone.
“You have all the answers, then.”
“No, I just know that you’re not going to kill an innocent male.” L.W. focused on the black diamond that sat on the middle finger of that right hand. “And if anyone calls you on not ordering the hit, you’re the King, right? You’ll just change the rules to suit yourself or maybe bury the naysayers. That’s the way it works, isn’t it.”
There was a long silence, and he could tell the dog was uneasy with the vibe in the room. George moved his body closer to his master’s feet, and he kept his muzzle lowered like he didn’t want to chance being in the line of fire.
That imperial head shook slowly, the hard face showing no emotion at all. “You don’t have any idea how anything works.”
The rage that was never far below L.W.’s surface flared up. “How would you know what I think or what I know. We’re strangers, you and me. Linked by biology, nothing more.”
More with the jaw shit, like Wrath was chewing his own molars to stubs. “Look, I realize the last three decades were hard—”
“You don’t know shit about what life has been like here—”
“Do you think I was on a fucking vacation.” That autocratic voice cracked like a whip, and then the King rose to his feet. “You think I chose what fucking happened?”