Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 116408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Rafe hummed a little at such dangerous logic. “Really now? Planning to overthrow the Ministry with an enormous family.”
Bel rolled his eyes at his sibling. “We’re not building an army. This isn’t about starting a war. It’s about making sure the people we do care for are protected, particularly if some asshole decides to start a war.”
“We’ll be ready.”
The silence stretched between them for only a couple of seconds before Bel cocked his head to the side a little. “Are you sure you don’t remember anything else about those wolves?”
A broken laugh erupted from Rafe’s throat, and he shook his head. “They were trying to fucking eat me, Bel. I wasn’t too concerned with details at the time. Fluffy coats. Big teeth. Big, mean eyes.”
“Don’t worry, Red Riding Hood. We’ll protect you!” Winter called from the other side of the room.
“Don’t push your luck, Wee One!” Rafe growled at his youngest brother above the laughter.
The teasing was interrupted by the chime of the doorbell echoing through the house yet again. Rafe looked to Bel in question, but he only shrugged his shoulders. Marcus and Aiden didn’t look surprised though, as they started to move through the room to leave.
Rafe reached out, simply to check if another vampire had arrived and he was shocked to find that he could feel Philippe standing at the front door. Philippe Arsenault had come to Marcus’s home, but he’d not told him. Given no little hint that he intended to speak with his brother.
And his fucking brother had not mentioned one damn word about the meeting.
What the hell happened to all that loyalty they’d talked about just half an hour ago?
Rafe stepped into the hallway as Marcus opened the front door, welcoming Philippe and Jullien inside. Rafe soaked in his lover’s appearance. Philippe had shed his usual worn jeans and soft sweaters in favor of a sharply tailored dark suit with a pale-green tie. He looked almost too beautiful, too perfect to touch, but that was all Rafe wanted to do. He wanted to pull the man into his arms and feel that he was real, reassure himself that his mind hadn’t made up all the events of the past couple of weeks.
But he remained in the doorway to the dining room, his hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, watching as they politely shook hands and exchanged banal greetings as if Rafe wasn’t there, stewing in his own emotional turmoil. Oh yeah, he was still a fucking mess. He’d just gotten a better grip on the sneering mask he was accustomed to wearing. It had gotten lost for a short time when he’d been with Philippe, but he had it again.
Marcus was directing them toward the library, away from the revelry in the dining room, but Philippe had stopped, his eyes locked on Rafe. The tiniest of smiles pulled at his lips, and he looked as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Rafe hung there, begging for Philippe to say something, anything. Just some indication that they would speak privately again. That he would finally tell Rafe what he’d been thinking and what he was planning.
Before Philippe could decide whether to speak, Bel was pushing past Rafe and walking toward Philippe.
“You’re Philippe Arsenault,” Bel declared, extending his hand. “I’m Beltran Varik.”
Philippe flashed him a brilliant smile that didn’t chase the wariness from his eyes. “An honor to meet you. Rafe has told me a great deal about his twin.”
“Really?” Bel said sharply and Rafe winced. “Because Rafe has told me absolutely nothing about you. And Rafe tells me everything. Too much, in fact.”
Philippe’s mouth dropped open, any potential words stolen away, as a light blush touched his cheeks.
Rafe placed his hand over his face and swallowed a groan. When Bel was feeling protective, it was never subtle. Bel didn’t do subtle. “Enough, dear brother.”
“Oh, I’m dear brother now,” Bel said waspishly, releasing Philippe’s hand. “I’m usually sweet Bel or darling Bel.”
“Yes, I save dear brother for those special occasions when I wish to throttle you,” Rafe said between clenched teeth.
“Thank you, my dear sons,” Aiden interrupted. His eyes were giving them both a silent warning, but there was no missing the fact that he was struggling and failing to hide his smile. “Marcus and I will be meeting with the Arsenaults. Please return to the party for our new clanmates.”
Rafe saw the way Philippe’s eyes widened at Aiden’s artful little slip, and then he was ushered back toward the library. Marcus closed the doors behind them, and Rafe swore his brother was trying to give him a little look of reassurance, but Rafe couldn’t guess what reassurance that would be.
Why had Philippe come to Marcus’s home for a meeting? He was sure that the clan leader was going to formally end their trial period after Rafe’s repeated failures to help them. He was going to make it clear an alliance between the Arsenaults and Variks was not beneficial to either side. Philippe was going to walk away.