“Fuck,” Lachlan mumbled as she came closer.
“My king,” she said, whisper-soft, dropping into a curtsy before me with feigned submissiveness. The female would no doubt eat her future young if it meant getting the seat beside me, though the look in her eyes as she glanced over my leather jacket, black T-shirt, and pants said she’d rather eat me.
“Good evening, Cassandra,” I said in greeting, forcing my manners to the surface. “The hall looks nice. Thank you for seeing to the decorations.” I tried to smile. It didn’t happen.
Benedict pressed his lips in a firm line and his arms tightened over his chest.
The female practically glowed under the compliment and offered me a coy smile. “Well, as the ranking female of the line of Zorin…” She tilted her head in thought. “The ranking female in every house, now that I think of it,” she chuckled. “It was not only my duty but my pleasure to prepare the hall for your sister’s visit.”
“My sister, Avianna, is the ranking female of every house, and she’s not visiting. She’s returning.” I locked down every negative thought in my mind and pictured a vast, empty field. My thoughts had gotten the best of me too many times over the years, and having the strongest compulsion gift in our species—the results had been disastrous. Just because I sarcastically thought someone should fling themselves off the roof didn’t mean I actually wanted it to happen.
“Of course she is, and we look forward to her return tomorrow evening.” Cassandra’s smile slipped. “The court needs a female’s touch.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“And it shall have one in Avianna,” Ransom interjected, saving my ass.
“My king, I believe we have a meeting about last night’s justice,” Lachlan added. “Hawthorne is waiting.”
“He is,” I agreed. “Cassandra.” I nodded my head as custom dictated.
“King Alekxander.” Her voice curled around my name in a way that made my stomach sour, and my jaw locked at the flash of color I saw on her forearm as she backed away, then retreated to the loving arms of her father.
“Did you fucking see that?” Ransom’s gaze slowly turned toward me.
“Bring our meal to the chamber,” Lachlan ordered one of the talem, who carried a tray of bacon and other meats.
Just because I’d fed tonight didn’t mean I’d eaten.
“Yes, sir.”
I strode from the hall, pushing open the French doors leading to the wide courtyard that separated the Domum—the formal, official rooms of the estate—from the residence, where I lived and trained with my warriors.
“Tell me that wasn’t what I think it was,” Benedict said once the doors were firmly shut behind us. He inched his way forward to walk in front, his eyes scanning the courtyard for any possible enemy.
“The lass inked herself with your seal, Alek.” Lachlan’s stride matched my own, just as it always did when we were anywhere outdoors. “At least, I’m assuming she did the inking herself.” His eyebrows rose in question.
“If I’d mated, you’d know,” I growled. The whole fucking immortal world would know if I’d found the one female fated for me. After over four hundred years of wondering if she’d show up, I’d made my peace with the possibility that she never would. Fate was an unforgiving bitch when it came to the losses our species had suffered during my reign.
Not that I’d condemn any female to the torture of living at my side.
“She’s getting bolder,” Ransom noted with a whistle as we approached the steel door to the residence. The Domum may be every inch a palace, but the residence was a fortress by my father’s design. I’d simply kept the security updated with modern technology.
“She’s a pain in my ass,” I snapped as the door opened before us.
“My king, Hawthorne awaits you in the chamber, as well as your meal,” Serge announced with a bow of his head.
“Weren’t you just in the foyer?” Ransom asked as we swept by.
“I was told you were headed this way,” he answered with a slight curve to his lips.
“Fast fucker,” Ransom muttered.
Speed was the only gift given to the talem, and Serge had mastered it.
We passed through the entry, and my senses told me there was no one upstairs. Good. Only invited guests and the four warriors in the Order were allowed unescorted entrance here.
“Do we really have to put up with all the nobles until equinox?” Lachlan asked as we made our way to the back of the house, passing my office, the dining room, the sitting room, a commercial-sized kitchen, and the den, which Hawke had outfitted with an eighty-five-inch television and surround sound. He claimed it was for watching football.
Personally, I thought he liked to hear the bones break.
“It’s tradition,” Benedict said over his shoulder as he descended the stone staircase first, his hand on his hip holster. I didn’t bother telling him that Hawke was the only other male in this house—it was good for him to be alert.
Complacency was our number one enemy.
Complacency had killed my parents.
“Don’t tell me you aren’t enjoying having those sweet, doe-eyed females warm your bed,” Ransom shot from behind us.
“I have no problem taking a lass to her bed. I’ll be damned if one sets a toe in mine. You let a woman sleep in your bed, and you may as well unpack her suitcase into your closet,” Lachlan said as we reached the riveted steel door at the bottom of the staircase.
My senses stretched along the tunnels that ran in both directions and found them empty. Given the party, our soldiers weren’t training in the compound as usual, giving us a moment of relative quiet.
Benedict placed his palm on the biometric scanner, and a dozen steel bolts unlocked before the heavy door opened.
“It’s about fucking time,” Hawke snarled.
“There’s a party going on, if you hadn’t noticed,” Benedict countered as we entered the chamber.
The space was cavernous, large enough to fit at least fifty warriors, but tailored only to the five of us. A black, onyx table rested in the center space, accompanied by five heavy chairs. A wall of monitors consumed the right-hand wall, with a few other notable computer stations spaced out along the back. To the left was a well-equipped kitchen, stocked with enough food and blood to last the five of us an unpleasant year in case of emergencies. A bathroom lay beyond that, and in the corner was a collection of couches and bookshelves with a television to keep us occupied if we ever needed that year.
My parents hadn’t made it to the safety of this room two hundred years ago.
“So the fuck what?” Hawk fired back at Benedict from where he sat sprawled at the table in one of the massive chairs, flipping one of his daggers end-over-end.
The door shut behind us, and we each took a seat at the table. It wasn’t round. I wasn’t King Arthur. Fuck that. I was in charge, and everyone in this room knew it.
“Has the wolf been dealt with?” I asked Hawke.
“Justice has been served,” he confirmed with a wicked grin and dead eyes. For the rest of us, dispensing the justice of the immortal world was a sworn, sacred duty. For Hawke…well, he got off on it.