Chapter
8
Breathing out an irritated sigh, Drake
turned to face his visitor. “Stefan.”
“Drake. It has been a long
time.”
“Not nearly long enough.”
“You know why I am here.”
Drake shoved his hands into his pants’
pockets. “I can guess.”
“You were to have returned to the
Fortress a year ago. You cannot avoid him forever. The longer you
make him wait, the angrier he will become.”
“I have no desire to return to Rodin’s
Coven, not now, not ever.”
“You are the chosen one,
brother.”
An oath escaped Drake’s lips. “Let him
choose Vardin!”
“Is that what you want me to tell
Rodin?” Stefan asked, his voice brittle with fear.
“Yes. How many times do I have to say
it?”
“Our sire will not be
pleased.”
Drake snorted softly. “When have I ever
done anything to please him?”
“There is a woman in the castle,”
Stefan remarked, changing the subject. “Does she have anything to
do with your decision?”
“She has nothing to do with it,” Drake
said. The lie rolled easily off his tongue.
“Then bring her with you.”
Drake smiled as he savored the effect
his next words would have. “We are on our honeymoon.”
Stefan stared at him, his deep gray
eyes wide. “You married a mortal? Have you taken leave of your
senses? You know such a thing is forbidden.”
“Yet another reason to stay where I
am.”
Stefan’s expression turned morose. “You
know if you do not obey Rodin’s summons, I will be the one to
suffer for it.”
Drake rocked back on his heels. How
like his sire to threaten Drake’s favorite brother in order to get
his own way.
“Rodin never did play fair,” Drake
muttered. “Go back and tell him I will be there at the appointed
time.”
Stefan bowed his head in a gesture of
gratitude and respect. Rodin’s temper was well known. Drake was the
only one of his sons who had ever willfully defied
him.
“Stefan? A favor?”
A faint smile tugged at the other man’s
lips. “I will not mention the marriage.”
“When you return to the Coven, the
sword in my room is yours.”
Stefan grinned. He had long coveted the
ancient weapon. A wave of his hand, and he was gone.
Keeping a tight rein on his anger,
Drake covered the Porsche. He had known this day would come, had
dreaded it for centuries, and now it was here. Like it or not, he
would have to return to Rodin’s Coven. He would have to take his
place on the Council. He would be expected to stay at the Fortress
with his sire for as long as Rodin wished it.
Drake lingered in the shadows, his
resentment twisting like angry snakes in his gut. He would not seek
the warmth of his bride’s bed this night, and it was all Rodin’s
fault.
Yet one more thing to hold against the
man who had sired him.