“I can’t do that. You were harboring criminals, Boian. We’ve passed a law that allows us to charge you with that crime. Of course we will assign you an impartial Shadow Lord to inform you of your rights and options, but if you give us what information we want, it might go a long way toward your punishment. I will even take care of your file myself since Skeleton Lords Gavrael and Gedeon D’Vaire normally perform that task, and we wouldn’t want you to think because they live with your sons that anything about this is unfair,” Alaric said. “Or perhaps it’s best if it were finalized by a Juris Knight, given that these allegations originate from a fallen knights investigation.”
“We’ll have you work with Juris Knight Mitchell Brooks,” Drystan stated.
“Is JK Pierson Murphy available?” Alaric asked. “His extraordinary memory might prove useful since we wouldn’t want to miss a single law that Boian has broken.”
Drystan shook his head sadly. “JK Murphy has been reassigned to DC and is currently not handling cases.”
“Have you just let Aleksander take over everything?” Boian demanded. “Don’t you have emperors? Why is everyone named D’Vaire? And what the hell is a High King anyway? What utter foolishness.”
“The High Court of D’Vaire is an extension of the emperors’ royal court. Your son and his mate wield a great deal of power and prestige. But let’s stay focused here on just one High King. Why did you stand up for King Kestle and let him stay in your home?” Drystan asked.
“There are three dragon courts in the Consilium, or there were until that fool Kestle ran off. Of course I was going to welcome him back. He was accused of harming his son much as I’ve been in the past. Why any of you think you can punish someone because you disagree with their parenting techniques is beyond me.”
Drystan pushed a button, allowing a screen to fill one wall and connected his phone to it. The picture he chose to start with was one he’d taken of Rafe just before they drove him to D’Vaire. Covered in scars, he’d still smiled as he posed with Mortis. “This is High King Rafe D’Vairedraconis. And this is what he looked like after his father and brother were done. Mind you, this was after dozens of surgeries and months of recovery.”
“The scars are from an attack,” Boian refuted. “Charlton swore he didn’t know what happened to him. He left home one day and the next he heard the D’Vaires had him.”
“Except that he and his son told the D’Vaires that Rafe was at home and not missing.”
Boian shrugged. “A misunderstanding. Why were the D’Vaires bothering Charlton and his family anyway?”
“Because Aleksander’s mate was missing, and he was understandably concerned.”
“I suppose I can understand that; it is a miracle Aleksander was able to find another soul willing to be with him in the first place,” Boian stated dryly. “Did anyone consider that this Rafe was running away and didn’t want to be found by any D’Vaire?”
“Allow me,” Conley remarked, getting up and disconnecting Drystan’s device to attach his own. The image that filled the wall was of Aleksander and Rafe at their matebond ceremony. They were staring at each other with unmistakable love and pride. Conley had a couple of copies of it framed—one in their office and another in their living room in Las Vegas. “Does this look like a guy trying to run away from your eldest son?”
King Ethelin glanced at the screen briefly, and his attention went to the floor as he folded his arms over his chest. “Disgusting,” he muttered.
“For almost a second there, I forgot what a fucking homophobe you are,” Conley remarked. “That’s funny since you’re in a room full of fags.”
“What does any of this have to do with me?” Boian demanded.
“It’s that whole ‘harboring two criminals’ thing.”
“I believe you that someone hurt that man. I don’t know why you think that has anything to do with me.”
Conley changed the image, and Drystan closed his eyes at the battered and bloody form that was barely recognizable as a living being lying in a hospital bed. There was no need to look at it; the picture had been burned into his memory months and months ago. When Boian went green, Drystan grabbed the trash can and deftly got it in front of him just as he hurled.
“For nearly six months, Charlton and Sullivan kept Rafe chained to the wall as they beat him. They burned him, sometimes they starved him, or they flayed his skin off. And they got off on it, Boian,” Conley growled near the dragon’s ear. “Sullivan would have a big old hard-on as he inflicted as much pain as he could onto the man he’d called his best friend for centuries. That’s why those fuckers are going to die for what they’ve done. How bad do you want to go jail for people like that?”
When Boian was done vomiting, he wiped the moisture from his eyes. “Could I trouble you for a cloth?”
Alaric handed him a hanky, and Drystan contemplated a man who puked at a picture but had coldly ordered the murders of his brother and his mate. Their children were turned into servants, and though Noirin and Dravyn had grown to love cooking and gardening, their lives had been forever altered by Boian’s gutless actions.
“I hardly know Charlton,” Boian remarked. “I can’t tell you anything. I would like to talk to this Shadow Lord who will represent me. I’m done answering questions.”
“He will arrive within the hour,” Alaric promised.
The five undead men walked out into the hallway, and no one was happy with what little information they’d gained, but when Drystan got a text from Arvandus stating that the twins had been found, he grinned. “We’ve got Nollan and Neil.”
“Good,” Alaric responded. “I’m not content with what we’ve learned from Boian, nor am I willing to go easy on him. I plan on speaking to everyone who has been connected to him in the past. There is plenty to add to his sentence.”
“Finally, someone will get to break in that new prison section we designated for Consilium members.”
Alaric’s grin was feral. “It would be a shame for it to go to waste.”
Chapter 70
“I don’t suppose you’re going to change your mind about this?” Aleksander asked.
Rafe smiled and squeezed his hand. “Nope.”
“Mortis bite.”
“You want to stay out in the hall?” Rafe asked his wolf. They walked toward a room in the prison normally reserved for family gatherings. While there were going to be many different people in there and the one next to it as the afternoon wore on that were related to D’Vaires, it was not a happy occasion.
“Mortis be good.”
“You’re a sentinel. Act like it,” Rafe told him.
“Is everyone going in?” Brogan asked.
“I can’t. I will wind up arrested myself,” Worth remarked.
“Somerly and I will stay out here for now too,” Dre’Kariston added.
“I don’t care what any of you think; you’re all my children, so I’m damn well going in,” Saura stated with a glare.
Lex D’Vairedraconis laughed. “I’ll stay out here with Somerly. I’ve nothing to say to these asshats.”
“Kendrick, did you want to go in or stay here in the hall?” Noirin asked.
“This is the last time I’ll get to see them, so I think I’ll go in.”
Rafe was surprised he was able to get the words out without yelling. Never believing the extent of what happened to him, Kendrick likely blamed him for the death sentence leveled on Charlton and Sullivan.
“Dray and I can wait out here, too,” Killian said.
“Bridger and Hadley, if you would stay here to help protect our family, Gedeon and I will accompany Aleksander and Rafe,” Gavrael stated.
The two sentinels nodded, and Aleksander pulled an unresisting Rafe into his arms. His big hands swept over Rafe’s back, and he absorbed the comfort of the first person to genuinely love him. As he’d reconciled his family, he’d come to realize that Molly hadn’t cared either, otherwise she couldn’t have so easily cast aside his friendship.
Aleksander framed his face in his hands and kissed him. “I love you too.”
“Whenever you’re ready,” Dra’Kaedan said when Rafe stepped out of Aleksander’s embrace.
Closing his eyes for a moment, Rafe found the unbreakable part of himself that had survived the impossible. Lacing his fingers with Aleksander’s, he strode inside after Brogan pushed the door open. Two men with hard gazes sat there in dark jumpsuits.
“Kendrick, how are you, boy?” Charlton asked. “Introduce me to that beautiful woman at your side.”
“Seneschal Duchess Noirin D’Vairedraconis, this is my father, Charlton.”
“King Charlton.”
“You were stripped of your title,” Gavrael stated succinctly. “Criminals do not honor Fate.”
“Well, Rafferty, are you done toying with us?” Sullivan asked. “Or are you still pissed at us and want to blame us for whoever hurt you? You were my best friend, and sure I might’ve picked on you occasionally, but you’re taking this too far.”
“As you know by now, the Order of the Fallen Knights wanted more than my word, and Juris Knight Mitchell Brooks is incapable of dishonor. He’s the one who gave you a death sentence. Nollan and Neil told the fallen knights everything. The men I called my brothers, though they aren’t at all, led them to the cave. You were sloppy, and there was evidence left behind. I can’t say that I’m surprised; the two of you have shit for brains and never did bother picking up after yourselves,” Rafe said. His words were calm, but his heart was racing. It wasn’t fear—it was adrenaline telling him these were hateful men and he should get away as fast as he could.
Sullivan shook his head. “You accuse me of having shit for brains, but you never figured out they were my kids.”
“No, I didn’t,” Rafe replied. “But I didn’t know you were raping the servants, and that’s how a fifteen-year-old girl wound up pregnant, then died bringing her sons into this world. And I’m not the stupid ass that bragged about that to my own twins because I was furious they didn’t want to go to Court Ethelin with you. It doesn’t take much of a leap to figure out that the girl Charlton married off to King Varius’s son was yours as well.”
“Did you rape my mother?” Kendrick demanded of Charlton.
“Of course not, boy. Molly and I had a relationship for a long time. She’s probably the only woman I’ve ever loved.”
“But you killed her.”
“Now don’t go listening to Rafferty. The boy is just pissed his brother picked out awful clothes for him.”
“It showed what little compassion you have for another person that you were both amused by my color blindness. And we’re not here to have a long, drawn-out conversation. I asked the Order of the Fallen Knights for this opportunity so I could tell you that when they execute you, I will not be there to light your pyre. I will not mourn you. There isn’t a single part of my future you have any part of, and I will not allow my thoughts to circle back to the years before I met Sander. You took me from my mate, and that is why you will die. Had you simply held me against my will, the sentence would be the same, but that wasn’t enough for you. You decided my life should end because of your inability to deal with my sexuality, which, by the way, doesn’t have shit to do with you. I was nearly robbed of everything because of your intolerance, and for that I will never forgive you. Good luck on the other side of the veil, and fuck you both for being heartless monsters and for my scars. Sorcery D’Vaire healed the ones on the surface, but I would’ve worn them with pride because they were proof that I fucking survived. And while no one can erase the ones you left behind on the inside, they won’t stop me from having a fulfilling life with my mate and my family.”
When Rafe’s attention went to Aleksander, he got a smile. “You ready to go?”
“Yep.”
Once they were out in the hall and the door shut so Rafe could no longer hear Charlton wheedling to get Kendrick to speak to him, he kissed Aleksander. “Thanks for doing that with me.”
“You were incredible. Ready to meet my father?” Aleksander asked.
“I didn’t introduce you to mine,” Rafe teased. “But yeah. Let’s go.”
∞∞∞
Aleksander hadn’t planned on seeing his father again, but when Boian had contacted Somerly, his youngest brother had accepted an invitation to meet with him but only if the former Ethelin king was willing to allow him to bring his siblings. Stripped of his title and with the Consilium Veneficus announcing that Court Ethelin no longer existed, Boian had capitulated. His former dragons were now under King Varius, the final man chosen by Fate who continued to ignore his emperors.
Taking a moment to steady himself—because he desperately wanted to go throttle Charlton and Sullivan—Aleksander inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. Rafe had been stoic, poised, and his grace only made Aleksander love him more. The lone thought, which soothed, was that the fallen knights would take care of the two men who hurt Rafe in short order. His other “siblings,” who were actually his nephews, had accepted responsibility for assisting in Rafe’s abduction and, in light of their other criminal infractions, would spend a few years in prison. They’d be released into Court Draconis and watched closely upon their release.
“Are we ready for this fucker?” Dra’Kaedan asked, rubbing his hands together. “Please say I get to tell him what I think of him.”
“Settle down, dear,” Saura chided her eldest son.
“I would quite enjoy it if you set his ass on fire,” Worth told the Grand Warlock.
“Me too, but I’d probably get arrested.”
“Brogan can bake you a cake with a nail file in it,” Noirin said sweetly.
“What a waste of cake,” Dra’Kaedan remarked with a shake of his head.
“You ready?” Somerly asked Aleksander.
“Whenever you are.”
Somerly turned to the other High King. “Rafe?”
“I did my thing, I’m just here for support and stuff.”
“Let’s do this,” Lex said, and he stepped forward to push the door in. “Hey, Boian.”
The disgraced dragon stood, his chin raised and superiority bleeding from every pore despite his rumpled jumpsuit. “Good afternoon.”
“You want introductions, or do you not give a shit? It’s not like you’re going to use our titles,” Dra’Kaedan remarked.
“I remember you, Grand Warlock.”
“Hey, Aleksander, wonders never cease. He talked to a sorcerer,” Worth drawled. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Worthington, you always did have atrocious manners,” Boian admonished.
“That’s ‘Your Grace’ to you, old man. Aleksander here gave me a fancy title.”
“How is your father?” Boian asked Lex politely as they were there for tea.
“He’s great,” Lex remarked. His father, Duke Drogo, had served Court Ethelin faithfully until he’d learned that Boian had tried to sell his only child to a wizard so he could experiment on his dragon blood. “Still pissed at you but not as much as my mom, I think.”
Boian gazed at everyone but Aleksander. As a drakeling, he’d never measured up to Boian’s exacting standards, and when he’d tossed Aleksander out, it was nearly a relief to no longer answer to him. But he’d also been terrified and too young to understand the way his father could warp his future. If he’d known, Aleksander might’ve gone on the offensive. In hindsight, if he’d defied former Imperial Duke Bernal and waited for Emperor Chrysander instead of allowing himself to be kicked out of Draconis castle, Boian wouldn’t have had the opportunity to spread his lies so far and fast. “I’m not going anywhere,” Aleksander finally said. “So stop pretending like I’m not in the room.”
With an audible gulp, Boian glared at Aleksander. “What do you want me to say? I’ve got ten years to rot in this prison; then they’re going to monitor me with an ankle bracelet until the day I
die. All I did was open my home to a fellow dragon. I didn’t know anything about Kestle. I had no idea what he did to his son. I don’t condone it, and I have to pay the price anyway.”
“Your sentence is long because you lost your battle in court to get the testimony of your previous crimes taken out of consideration,” Aleksander refuted. Thanks to Juris Knight Brooks, who had already proved himself invaluable to the D’Vaires years ago, the new law had held up in court, pleasing everyone who’d taken part in crafting it or had voted for its ratification.
“Yeah, my dad was able to give his testimony regarding the deaths of Duke Sorin and Duchess-mate Onora. You had Noirin and Dravyn’s parents murdered and turned their children into servants,” Lex accused.
“And Oklin Mivorn was happy to add his testimony regarding the sale of Lex to him. He’s still pissed that you backstabbed him,” Somerly said. The wizard was himself still in legal trouble for the unrelated crime of making a poison that nearly trapped Ellery for life in his dragon.
“Somerly, you didn’t need to testify against your father. Why did you tell them I fed you potions?” Boian demanded.
“Because you did. Hello, I’m five foot five and my brothers are like twelve inches or more taller than I am. You thought if I drank it, I’d have a small dragon, but you got it from a shitty sorcerer who didn’t understand it would make my human side small, not my beast,” Somerly retorted. “And the Spectra Wizardry has the test results to prove it.”
“Why doesn’t anyone understand the danger of Aleksander’s beast? No dragon was meant to be that large,” Boian demanded.
Dra’Kaedan shrugged. “Hey, don’t judge. Maybe Rafe’s a size queen.”
Rafe’s laughter filled the room, and Aleksander smiled at the beauty of it.
“I understand you lack respect for anyone not a dragon, but I’m going to tell you who I am anyway. My name is Lichpriestess Saura D’Vaire. In my previous life, I was Grand Summoner Saura of Leolinnia. Now that title is shared by your youngest son, and he gives it honor each day.” Saura winked at Somerly. “The people in this room are my family. Although I met them after they were grown except for my twins and, of course, my handsome mate, Lichpriest T’Eirick, I tend to think of everyone else as my children. I guess once a mother, always a mother. I’m protective of them, and I will do whatever it takes to make them happy. It’s a parenting instinct you seem to be lacking and something you share with the former King Kestle. There isn’t a D’Vaire you haven’t hurt, because when you wound one of us, you inflict pain on us all. I had to keep quiet to give Rafe the opportunity to tell his father and brother to go fuck themselves because he needed that. He had to regain control, but you have none, though you covet it more than anything else. I’d pity you but it would be a waste of my time, so allow me to just assure you that these wonderful people are better off without you.”
Heart of the High King (D'Vaire, Book 19) Page 51