Lover Avenged (Black Dagger Brotherhood #7)(220)

The next knock that came was another one Wrath had been waiting for. As Rehv and Ehlena came in, there was a lot of oohing and ahhing from the pair, and then the Brotherhood filed out, leaving Wrath and Beth and George alone with the couple.

“When are you going back north?” Wrath asked the male. “To find her.”

“Second I can stand the fading light in the sky.”

“Good. Do you want backup?”

“No.” There was a soft rustling, as if Rehv had drawn his mate to his side because she was uncomfortable. “I go alone. It’s better. Apart from looking for Xhex, I’m also going to tap a successor, and that means things could get dicey.”

“A successor?”

“My life is here. In Caldwell.” Even though Rehv’s voice was steady and strong, the guy’s emotions were bouncing all over the place, and Wrath was not surprised. The blender of life had been spinning the motherf*cker but good the last twenty-four hours, and if there was one thing Wrath knew firsthand, rescue was sometimes just as disorienting as a capture.

Of course, the outcome of the former was far more palatable. May the Virgin Scribe grant such a thing to Xhex.

“Look, about Xhex,” Wrath said. “Anything you need to find her, any kind of support we can offer, you have it.”

“Thanks.”

As Wrath thought about that female and realized it would be kinder to wish her dead rather than alive at this point, he reached out and put his arm around his shellan’s waist so he could feel Beth safe and warm beside him.

“Listen, about the future,” he said to Rehv. “I need to throw my hat in the ring on that one.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want you to lead up there.”

“What?”

Before the male could get rolling with the NFWs, Wrath cut in. “The last thing I need right now is instability in the colony. I don’t know what the f*ck is going on with Lash and the lessers, or why he was up there, or what the hell he was doing messing around with that princess, but I’m sure about this—from what Z told me, that group of sin-eaters is scared to death of you. Even if you don’t live up there full-time, I want you in charge of them.”

“I get where you’re coming from, but—”

“I agree with the king.”

It was Ehlena who spoke, and evidently she surprised the shit out of her mate because Rehv’s speech devolved into a whole lot of stuttering.

“Wrath is right,” Ehlena said. “You’re the one who needs to be king.”

“No offense,” Rehv muttered. “But that wasn’t the kind of future I had in mind for you and me. For one thing, if I never go up there again, it’s too f*cking soon. For another, I’m not interested in leading them.”

Wrath felt the hard throne under his ass and had to smile. “Funny, sometimes I feel the same way about my citizens. But destiny has other plans for the likes of you and me.”

“The hell it does. I got no clue how to do the king thing. I’d be flying blind—” There was a quick pause. “I mean…shit…not that being unable to see is…Damn it.”

Wrath smiled again, imagining the chagrin on the guy’s face. “Nah, it’s cool. I am what I am.” As Beth’s grip found his hand, he gave her a squeeze to reassure her. “I am what I am, and you are what you are. We need you up there taking care of business. You didn’t let me down once before, and I know you won’t disappoint me now. As for the leading thing…news flash—all kings are blind, buddy. But if you get your heart in the right place, you can always see your way clear.”

Wrath lifted his sightless eyes to his shellan’s face. “An extraordinarily wise female told me that once. And she was very, very right.”





Son of a bitch, Rehv thought as he stared at the vampire race’s great, revered Blind King. The guy was jacked into the kind of old-school throne you’d expect a leader to be in…. The thing was a hell of a piece of hardware, and the desk wasn’t shabby either. And what do you know, while sitting all regal and shit, the motherf*cker dropped bombs with the casual surety of a monarch whose demands were always met.

Christ, it was like he expected to always be obeyed, even if he were talking out his ass.

Which meant…well, he and Wrath kind of had shit in common, didn’t they.

For no particular reason, none at all, whatsoever, Rehv pictured where the king of the symphaths ruled from. Just a white marble pedestal seat. Nothing special, but then, what was respected up there were the powers of the mind—external shows of authority were not viewed as that impressive.

The last time Rehv had been in the throne room had been when he’d slit his father’s throat open, and he remembered how the male’s blue blood had dripped down the fine-grained, pristine stone like an ink bottle that had been spilled.

Rehv didn’t like the image, although not because he was ashamed of what he’d done. It was just…if he caved in to what Wrath wanted, would that be his future? Would one of his extended family someday slice him down?

Was that the fate that waited for him?

All in his head, he looked at Ehlena for help…and she gave him precisely the kind of strength he needed. She stared up at him with such a steady, burning love that he decided maybe he shouldn’t take such a dim view of destiny.