Black Dagger Brotherhood 38: Mine (Lair of the Wolven 3) by J.R. Ward

Author:J.R. Ward [Ward, J.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-TWO

The King’s Audience House

Caldwell, New York

WRATH, SON OF Wrath, sire of Wrath, sat back down in his armchair in front of the fireplace in the Audience House’s main room. As soon as his ass hit the cushioned seat, George let out another big shake, his damp ears flopping on his head with a slapping sound, his tail whipping Wrath’s leathers, his paws doing a stompy-stomp on the carpet.

“That was a good roll outside, huh,” Wrath said softly.

As he put his dagger hand down, the golden bumped his head into his favorite palm, and Wrath stroked the wet locks that hung down like hair off George’s ear. God, he loved everything about the dog, even the old rug smell when things were wet. And though he wanted to spend the next fifteen minutes oochie-poo’ing with his best boy—one, that was not something he did in public, and two, the sooner he got through tonight’s calendar of audiences, the faster he could get home to his shellan and his son.

And then oochie-poos-in-private could happen.

Some things, you only wanted your shellan to know about.

Ready to get on with shit, Wrath reangled his face so he was “looking” out into the room. “We ready for the next one or what.”

Over to the right, Saxton cleared his throat, and there was a creak as he got up from his desk chair. “Ah, yes. And I believe I will excuse myself—”

Wrath narrowed his eyes behind his wraparounds. “You all right? What’s going on—”

“Oh, no, Sire. I am very well indeed. It’s just…”

There was a hesitation, and Wrath could imagine his solicitor looking in the direction of the two brothers who were on duty tonight. Qhuinn and Sahvage had been pairing up on schedules lately, the two falling into a team that was proving very effective out in the field of Caldwell’s downtown—and then also here, with these civilian meetings. The rule was that there had to be two brothers in the room, and two more on the premises, at all times.

It was the reasonable thing to do, set up by Tohr, who was the most reasonable of all of the Brotherhood.

And it chapped Wrath’s ass like a bike seat.

“Somebody better get fucking talking,” he commanded. “Why is my lawyer recusing himself.”

There was a brisk knock, and after Sahvage barked out a yup, the scent that entered what had once been the house’s formal dining room was not exactly a surprise—but it wasn’t expected, either.

“Rehvenge,” he said. “What we got.”

The King of symphaths was always welcome. But this was not a friendly little hi-how’re-ya: There were no greetings by the brothers, and Sax being prepared to leave? The only conclusion was that some kind of shit had hit some sort of fan, and everyone else knew what was going on but—

“Saxton, you stay,” he ordered.

“My lord… ah…”

And then two other people came in. As soon as their scents registered, he cursed. This was not going to be a run-of-the-mill civilian dispute. Nope. John Matthew and Xhex shouldn’t

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