J. Ward: Lover Avenged

“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 fucking 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 motherfucker 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.

And when he glanced back over at Wrath, he saw that the king had the same kind of hold on his shellan as Rehv did on his.

That was the model to work off of, Rehv thought. Right in front of him was who and what he wanted to be: a good, strong leader with a queen who stood beside him and ruled as much as he did.

Except his civilians were nothing like Wrath’s. And Ehlena could have no part up in the colony. Ever.

Although she would be great at advising him: There was no one he’d rather seek counsel from…except for the vampire motherfucker in that throne across the room.

Rehv took his mate’s hands in his. “Listen to me carefully. If I do this, if I rule, I interact with the colony by myself. You cannot go up there. And I promise you, there are going to be ugly parts. Really ugly parts. Things are going to happen that might change your opinion of me-”

“’Scuse me-been there, done that, got the T-shirt.” Ehlena shook her head. “And no matter what happens, you’re a good male, and that’s always going to win out-history’s proven it over again and over again, which is the only guarantee anyone’s ever going to get.”

“God, I love you.”

And yet even as she beamed up at him, he felt the need to double-check. “Are you sure, though. Once we jump-”

“I’m absolutely, positively”-she lifted up onto her tiptoes and kissed him-“sure.”

“Hot damn.” Wrath clapped his hands like the home team had just scored. “I love a good female.”

“Yeah, me too.” With a small smile, Rehv gathered his shellan into his arms, feeling like the world had righted itself in so many ways. Now if they could just get Xhex back-

Not if, he told himself. When.

As Ehlena laid her head against his chest, he rubbed her back and stared over at Wrath. After a moment, the king’s face shifted away from his queen, like he knew that Rehv was looking at him.

In the quiet of the lovely, pale blue study, an odd communion was struck between them. Even though they were so different on so many levels, even though they shared little and knew each other even less, they were united by a commonality that neither had with any other person on the planet.

They were rulers who sat alone on their thrones.

They were…kings.

“Life is such a glorious trauma, is it not,” Wrath murmured.

“Yeah.” Rehv kissed the top of Ehlena’s head, thinking that before he had met her, he would have cut the glorious out of that statement. “That’s exactly what it is.”