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“It is done. The portals are no more. The Whorl has evaporated. We attack at dawn. For now, I must rest.” Cerberus’s knees buckled before he collapsed.
Lort rushed to his fallen lord’s side, gathering him into his arms. He carried him to his quarters where he lay him on his bed.
The world was again one realm. The Karmic Schism was void. Aeternals would take the cities and countryside mile by bloody mile until all remaining humans were caged, surviving only to feed their conquerors. They would live at the will of Arisen Dawn.
He licked his lips, thinking of his own stable of unwilling donors.
After covering Cerberus with blankets to ward off his chill, Lort gathered his leaders to deliver orders for tomorrow’s attack.
Destiny was upon them.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Once Indigo had pointed out the garrison location on Cadmon’s map of Darque, she stuck around while Firebrand leaders refined battle plans for a daybreak attack.
Slouched in a chair in the corner, she admired Roark’s magnificent ass though pretending to study her data pad. With her lover leaning over the table, tilted forward to eye the strategy, she mentally traced each curve and tight muscle. Shaking off the distraction, she rose, excusing herself. She had someplace to be.
Before she escaped, Roark glanced up to give her a scrunched-brow.
“What?” she asked.
In front of everyone, he strolled toward her, locking her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re tired, Indy.”
“We all are, but I’m hardy.”
“You’re stubborn.”
“That, too.”
When summoned back to the table, he paused. “Rest or I’ll tie you to the bed.”
“Kinky,” she called over her shoulder, slipping out of the office to meet with the Blood Coven descendants.
Once their confab broke up, Arne, the satyr refugee who was a vintner-turned-stronghold-chef, set out a late-night buffet on the kitchen counter. Firebrands, mates, and guests ate sitting or standing in the gathering area, their eerie silence punctuated by the clink of tableware against plates.
The Blood Coven descendants had appointed Braelyn to be the sacrificial lamb. So before the group could escape to their rooms two-by-two, she cleared her throat. Denim, attuned to her signal, whistled to get everyone’s attention. The spokeswoman went to slaughter as she voiced the coven’s plans for battle tomorrow.
The shit hit the road. Or was it the fan? Indigo couldn’t remember. With her bare feet on the table, her head snuggled into a back cushion, and her hand on Roark’s thigh, she listened while infuriated mates blustered. Needless to say, the announcement met with outrage.
Rein raised a hand for quiet. “No.”
Simple. Direct. Stupid.
Other Firebrands nodded in agreement.
Braelyn got nose-to-chest with her vamp before she started finger-tapping his sternum. “Where in our vows did I say you could make decisions for me?”
“We didn’t make any vows. I can guarantee you will be at my side in this shitstorm fight tomorrow. If not, you’ll be hunkering down in safety.” Rein’s arms folded across his chest, classic that’s-how-it’s-gonna-be.
Braelyn faced off with a similar pose. “Bite me.”
Rein’s eyes roiled with anger so fierce, Indigo thought he might do just that. And not for fun.
Braelyn did not back down. “As I said, the Blood Coven will fight as a unit.”
Indigo’s eyes flipped from her nephew to his mate. The human-slash-witch held strong even with his huge-ass fangs on display. Stubborn female meets headstrong uncompromising vampire. In other times, the standoff might have been entertaining.
Kole rested a hand on Rein’s shoulder, pretending a hot-tempered animus demon could calm an enraged vamp mix. “Skyler has no offensive skills, only passive gifts. She won’t be in the fight. She’ll be with Kae, where a mother belongs.”
