Would Ronan have any desire to be drawn into his world?
And how would his sons feel?
Question after question poured through, but there were no answers. There would be none until he actually spoke to Ronan in private.
He would. As much as he feared it, there was no losing this opportunity.
When he’d thought this night would bring fresh starts and new beginnings, it had never crossed his mind that it might include someone so critical to his past.
Chapter Three
Three hours.
Three long, horrible hours before Aiden could finally sneak away from the party.
Yes, it was technically his party, and he shouldn’t have been able to sneak away in the first place, but he didn’t think he could get through the night without having at least a brief, private conversation with Ronan. One more stolen moment.
Most of the guests had left already, but there were a few mingling about with his family, drinking and generally networking with anyone they believed might be close to Aiden.
Rafe had stopped by to say that the European Ministry envoy had left. Aiden’s heart had barely sunk into his stomach when his eyes fell on Ronan standing in a corner of the room, his dark gaze locked on Aiden as he gave the appearance of listening to the woman on his arm. His head was cocked toward her and he nodded occasionally, but his eyes never strayed from Aiden.
Rafe was wrong. Mara and Michael had left. Ronan was waiting for him.
It had taken four tries to extricate himself from his hovering, worried sons and their lovers, but he finally slipped out a rear door of the house and onto the lawn. A deep sigh of relief rushed from his lips, and he was slightly dizzy with excitement.
And fear.
What if Ronan had changed?
That was a ridiculous thought. Of course he’d changed. The man he’d known had been killed and stolen away from his people, his destiny. He’d lived as a vampire for centuries, enduring all sorts of horrible events, and now he was working for the European Ministry. He couldn’t possibly be the same man who’d owned his heart so many years ago.
But did that mean Ronan intended to kill him as soon as they were alone? If anyone had a fair shot at it, he believed it would be Ronan. The European Ministry couldn’t possibly be happy about his ascension to an American throne. Who better to send than someone Aiden had trusted completely?
Aiden’s heart clenched at the thought, feeling as if it were struggling to beat in the vise wrapped around it. He didn’t want to think about Ronan betraying him like that. Even after so many years.
Would he blame Aiden for his murder? Aiden had been his trusted bodyguard. He was supposed to keep Ronan safe and he’d failed. Maybe this wasn’t about the Ministry. Maybe Ronan just wanted justice for a life stolen.
He started to run his fingers through his hair when the heel of his palm bumped against the crown he was still wearing. He froze for a second, his heart skipping at that pointed reminder. All the feelings swirling in his chest for Ronan meant nothing. Now was not the time to worry about what he wanted or how he felt—not that he was even sure—because he had to worry about his family’s safety as well as any threats that might have arrived from Europe.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, Aiden turned away from the house and walked across the back lawn, his dress shoes crunching through the light covering of snow that had fallen earlier in the day. The temperature hovered around freezing, adding a crispness to the air that was helping to clear his mind and focus his thoughts.
He hadn’t gotten far when he heard a second set of footsteps in the snow behind him. A smile toyed with his lips as he continued to walk toward the wall of trees at the edge of Marcus’s property. With most of the party in the front rooms, it was unlikely any guests could see him, which meant someone had been watching him leave.
A low chuckle danced across the silence, and Aiden’s heart skipped with joy. How long had it been since he’d heard that laugh? Too long. Forever, maybe. It definitely felt like forever had come and gone.
“Reminds me of that night,” Ronan said in a low voice. “Walking away from camp.”
Aiden didn’t need him to clarify. He knew exactly what Ronan was referring to. A tiny smirk played across his lips as he turned his head toward his shoulder. “Except that you were in the lead, and I was cursing your carelessness as I trailed behind you.”
There was another low laugh. “I’m sorely tempted to curse your carelessness now.”
Oh, he wasn’t nearly as careless as he appeared. Not that he’d planned it this way, but he knew without being told that they weren’t alone.
Aiden didn’t stop walking until he stepped past the first few trees, disappearing from view if anyone was looking from the rear windows of the house. Ronan stopped as well, keeping more than six feet away from Aiden. A comfortable, polite distance so Aiden wouldn’t feel threatened.
Now that several hundred eyes were no longer on them, Aiden stood silently, just staring at the man. His ghost from another life. Ronan looked good, better than he ever had when they were human. His face was less gaunt, and the dark circles under his eyes were gone. His shoulders were still broad but relaxed now as if he didn’t buzz with the same excitement and wonder. Except his midnight eyes were wide, and his lips were parted as if he were frozen in an exclamation of surprise.
In short, he looked good. Too good. Better than Aiden had been able to dream him.
“You look amazing,” Ronan suddenly said in a rush. “Better than I re—” he started, but Aiden held up a hand, halting his words. He appreciated the protection, but Ronan’s words were for his ears only.
“Winter!” Aiden called out. “Come out this second.” Ronan’s brow furrowed, and his smile disappeared, but he didn’t speak even as Aiden dropped his hand. Aiden’s eyes skimmed the surrounding area, and there was no sign of any of his sons, but he knew in his gut that Winter was there, watching over him. “I’m serious, Winter. This is both your king and your father commanding you to make your presence known.”
In the end, Aiden wasn’t sure which one swayed Winter, but just a few feet away from Ronan, the air shimmered for a second, and then a slit of deeper darkness appeared. Winter slipped out of it, accompanied by a smiling redhead with a blush staining his pale cheeks.
“Fuck!” Ronan shouted, jumping away from Winter, but his son’s glare never wavered from Ronan as he stood there.
“Hey, Aiden. Shit. I mean, Your Majesty,” Fox said with a little wave.
Aiden’s frown melted away to see the young witch leaning against Winter’s arm, tightly holding his hand. Winter had found the perfect mate to suit him, keeping his youngest son from falling into darkness and despair. But there was no curbing Winter’s protective streak. Not that Aiden would ever want to.
“We were just checking on you,” Fox continued. He bit on his bottom lip a little, looking embarrassed at getting caught.
“I don’t trust him,” Winter snarled. His eyes were still locked on Ronan as if he expected Ronan to leap at Aiden and kill him on the spot.
“I think you’ve made that point abundantly clear,” Aiden muttered wearily. He turned his attention to Ronan, who couldn’t tear his gaze from Winter, but instead of being insulted, he was more confused and maybe even a little awed by the vampire. “Ronan, have you met my son, Winter Varik, and his mate, Fox Varik?”