The Shadows (Black Dagger Brotherhood, #13)(125)

Just to be with her. Doing nothing special. In the middle of an amusement park.

Was a miracle.

A blessing beyond measure.

Frowning, he realized that if it weren’t for the reality lurking around the corner of this perfect moment, sneaking up behind them like some evil shadow … he might well be wasting this time with her by having half his brain worrying over the opening of shAdoWs, or wondering what was going on at the s’Hisbe, or fixating on whatever happened to be tickling his ass with a feather at that point in time.

He would have squandered this, as a rich male would let diamonds fall from his pockets simply because he had bowls of them back home.

Rarity went hand in hand with reverence.

“I could sit here forever,” he said as he swallowed his last bite. “This is my heaven.”

Selena glanced over and smiled. “Mine, too.”





FORTY-SEVEN


Just before the first civilian arrived for their appointment with the King, Paradise presented a folder to her father with no small amount of pride. “I’ve reorganized the appointment sheet. I think you’ll find it makes things easier for you and the King.”

Her father smiled as he opened the cover and saw the spreadsheet listing each civilian’s name, family lineage, current issue, and any past concerns that Wrath had dealt with.

“This is … so helpful,” he said, as he ran his forefinger down the columns.

“I thought I could improve on the way it was done.”

He looked up. “You have.”

“What comes next”—she pulled the second of many sheets free—“is a dossier for each subject that goes into greater detail.”

Abalone frowned as he reviewed her notes, and then riffled through the reports. “How did you find all this out?”

“I have my sources.” She grinned. “Okay, so some of it comes off of people’s Facebook pages, and other stuff is from friends of mine.”

“This is … I didn’t know he’d been mated.” Her father tilted the folder toward her. “Him?”

“Last year. It was a low-key thing.” Paradise dropped her voice even though they were alone. “They say she was with young.”

“Ah. So now he wants the mating validated.”

“She’s about to give birth. If I were Wrath, I’d spare the poor male the indignity of asking too many questions about the due date, and just give him the respect he wants to provide his young—”

“Trying to take your father’s job?” Wrath’s voice interjected.

As the Blind King himself appeared in the parlor’s archway, Paradise jumped. “I didn’t mean, oh, no, I—”

The King smiled. “I’m impressed with your thinking. Keep up the good work, Paradise.”

With that, he and his blond dog went across to the dining room.

“I can’t feel my feet,” she mumbled.

Her father embraced her. “You are exceeding any expectation I had for this.”

She pulled back and pushed her hair over her shoulder. “I like this. I really do.”

“You’re making me quite proud.”

To hide her flush, she sat down behind the computer that she already felt was hers. “How’re things at home? With—”

“Just fine. I am very well, although you are missed.”

“I could come back.”

“No, no, it’s best you stay here.” He tucked the folder under his arm. “Did you and Peyton enjoy yourselves last evening?”

“He left right after you did.”

Abalone frowned. “I hope you didn’t quarrel?”

“He’s got an antiquated way of looking at things.”

“He does come from a traditional family.”

She picked up one of the Montblanc pens she’d found in the desk. Tapping it on her palm, she pulled her navy-blue skirt down further on her knees. “Ah … Father.”

“Yes?”

Drawing in a deep breath, she pulled open the top side drawer and took out the application to the training center’s program. “Father, would you ever let me do something like this?”

As she handed the paperwork to him and his eyes traced the wording, she hurried on. “I’m not saying I want to go into combat or anything. It’s just, they’re accepting females, and I—”

“Fighting? This is … this is to fight.”

“I know. But see”—she reached up and pointed to a part in the preamble—“they’re saying they can train females—”

“Paradise.”

Annnnd his viewpoint was all pretty much summed up in the way he said her name: a combination of be-serious and don’t-break-my-heart.

“You’re not cut out for this,” he said.

“Because I’m a female, right,” she countered bitterly. “Which means desks and papers at the most—and only until I’m mated—”

“This is war. Do you understand what that really is?” He jogged the application. “This is death waiting to happen. It’s not a Hollywood movie or a romantic fantasy.”

She kicked up her chin. “I know that.”

“Do you?”