Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 138274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
L.W. looked up at the TV, too. Then nodded.
And this was no doubt the only thing they’d have a consensus on.
Unwrapping the Snickers, Shuli wondered whether he was going to wade into waters he had no business swimming in. Then he thought… fuck it.
“So you had a visitor for a while there, huh.” When there was no reply, Shuli paused with the chewing. “Listen, I’m not trying to tell you your business—”
“Great, so shut the hell up—”
“—but Bitty’s a female of worth.”
Brows crashed down over those pale green eyes, and for a moment, Shuli measured the distance to the exit—and wondered if he could outrun the guy. Probably.
Maybe.
Okay, fine, he was going to have to punch that surgical wound first and then pray to Lassiter that his velvet slippers had more tread on them than he remembered.
“I’m not in competition with you.” He put his palm forward. “So relax, tiger. I just—she’s not like Mharta. She’s not the type who’s going to ride one night and walk off the next.”
“I’m not having this conversation.”
“Yeah, we are. And I don’t care if you kick my ass. Some things need to be said—and I’m not the only one who’ll come after you if you behave like an ass. Nalla will fuck you up.”
Those brows got even lower. “How is she involved.”
Shuli laughed. “You don’t want to mess with that one. The apple does not fall far from the Z tree. I thought she was going to put a cap in the asses of my idiot buddies at Bathe. She will protect her friend, and although I don’t particularly care for you or about you, I feel duty bound to warn you about that.”
L.W. glanced back up to Homer and his donuts. “There’s nothing going on between me and Bitty.”
Yeah, right. “Okay, sure.”
“Don’t you have to go do your hair?”
“Yup.” Shuli got to his feet. “As always, it’s been soooo good talking to you. I can’t tell you how much I enjoy these little interludes—”
The door into the break room opened, and when they saw who it was, they both cursed under their breath: The great Blind King was the first to enter, his service dog at his side—and the entire Black Dagger Brotherhood was with him. One by one, the huge males filled the space, the whole training center, with the force of their presences.
“Man, if I’m getting permanently fired,” Shuli muttered, “do they all have to witness the pink slip?”
“If a vote’s required,” L.W. said with equal quiet, “I’m a yes.”
“Good, I’m glad you’re keeping me—”
“Fucking never. I’m a no.”
“So you don’t want to fire me. Great—”
“That’s not what I mean—fuck you—”
“Fuck you.”
When the King stopped, they quit the bickering and Shuli bowed low even though the male couldn’t see him—and he stayed down as he waited to be addressed: Sure, he was an asshole, but he had been raised right in the glymera.
He wasn’t a savage.
“My Lord,” he said.
“Stop staring at your loafers,” the King said with characteristic impatience. Then those wraparounds shifted over to L.W.’s direction. “How you feeling, son.”
“Fine.”
When there was only silence, Shuli tennis-matched the two, bathing in all the father/son bonding. Not. But then the focus was on him again, and he got himself good and braced.
“And you, Shuli?”
“Good, yup.” He took a deep breath. “Listen, I can clean out my locker down here and get my shit—”
“Why would you do that?”
“I—ah.” He glanced at all the serious faces and wondered why he had to say it out loud: Clearly, his suspension had just become permanent, because he’d violated his time-out in the field. “Well, I’m figuring you all didn’t come here just to see if I was up on my feet.”
“You’re right about that.” Wrath’s voice lowered as he switched into the Old Language. “You have honored your bloodline by protecting mine own, your act of courage deeming you worthy of reward and the restitution of your position within our fighting ranks.”
Shuli looked down at L.W. Who looked back.
Blink. Blink. Fucking blink.
As Homer started running around in circles—kind of like Shuli’s brain—the King continued, “Further, in recognition of your bravery, and your willingness to sacrifice yourself upon the field of combat for the benefit of mine own blooded son, I hereby confer unto you the role of ahstrux nohtrum, in favor of him—”
“Wait, what?” L.W. burst up from his chair—or tried to. He wobbled and grabbed his side. “Fuck—”
Before Shuli could think better of it, he lunged across and caught the male.
“Will you get off me—”
“Jesus Christ, I’m just trying to keep you from face-planting—”
“I don’t need the help—”
“Well, I didn’t want to give it to you anyway—”
“Then what the fuck are you doing holding my arm!”
The collective laughter that broke out reminded Shuli of what Rhage had sounded like the night before in the cop car. Only this time, the ripple was in stereo, every one of the Brothers chiming in with a yuck-yuck’ing.