Page 24

“Drake,” Kenton said, naming his other brother.

Lawrence nodded. “When is the last time you heard from him?”

Kenton and Rowan had not parted on good terms. Afterward, when Kenton had pledged his fealty to Lawrence and the three remaining members of Clan Karyn—the rest of the clan had long since scattered throughout the world—he’d sealed his fate as his brother’s enemy.

“Not since Rowan was here.”

No one spoke as they watched the window, waiting. Kenton finally broke the stillness by reaching for Alessandra’s hand and squeezing it. Letting it go, he went to the door that led to the balcony and opened it, stepping outside.

Alessandra took a step toward him. “Kenton—”

“He’s fine,” Lawrence said, pulling her back. “You’re not going out there.”

“I can’t hide from his brothers forever,” she argued.

“Yes,” Laria said, “you can.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a flash of movement as someone landed on the balcony. It had been a few years since he’d seen him. “Stay here,” he said to Alessandra. “Laria—”

“I’ll stay with her.”

He could tell Alessandra wanted to argue with them, but he didn’t give her the chance. He and his sister could not be killed by Drake unless they put themselves in an extremely vulnerable position, something he’d not presume to do when it came to the Morley family. They were equally as old, equally as strong.

But that didn’t mean the two families hadn’t tried to kill one another over the years, and Drake looked every bit ready to make a renewed effort. As Lawrence stepped out on the balcony, Drake glared at him with a hatred that had festered for more than seven hundred years.

“So it’s true,” he said, looking at him but speaking to Kenton. “I had to see for myself.”

Of all three brothers, Drake was the least intimidating. He’d always fought alongside his brothers, against Lawrence and his family, but never with the same vigor. The playboy of the Morley family, his primary interest had always been his own pleasure.

Right now, the man looked anything but pleased.

“I would have explained,” Kenton said coolly, “had you returned my calls.”

Drake shrugged. “I’ve been busy. But feel free, brother, to do so now.”

Lawrence glanced back, relieved he couldn’t see any sign of Alessandra or Laria through the large picture windows.

“Not with you like this—”

Drake feigned innocence. “Whatever do you mean?” His smile lacked any warmth or amusement.

In all the years Lawrence had known these men, fought them, he couldn’t remember a time when Kenton and Drake had openly disagreed. Rowan was mercurial, and Kenton had fallen out with him half a dozen times over the years, but he’d never once fallen out with Drake.

“You know very well what I mean. You stand there, glaring at Lawrence—”

“I do wonder why that is,” Drake shot back. “Oh, yes. Perhaps it’s because his clan did this to us? His kin were responsible for our parents’ deaths, or have you forgotten?”

For Kenton’s sake, he’d remained quiet so far.

No more.

“And your clan killed my brother and countless innocents over the years.”

“Cheld. Not innocents,” Drake spat back.

“How would you know? Most of them never had the chance to fully awaken—”

“And the ones who’ve become hunters? What of them?”