Conley’s expression changed dramatically from annoyed to understanding. He cupped Drystan’s face in his hands and kissed him hard. When he pulled away, tears were pooling in his gilded gaze. “Be quick, okay? Or it’s going to hurt you more than him.”
Drystan nodded and Conley slipped through the door. In six and a half centuries as Reverent Knight, Drystan had killed before. He was what stood between the Council and chaos, and he’d always taken his job seriously. Pulling one of the daggers designed by Madeline out of his holster, Drystan turned to study the dragon in front of him. Modern executions were normally much less personal, but nothing about this situation was ordinary.
“You have more questions?” Wesley taunted. He ran his hand under his nose to wipe away the snot. The man knew he was going to die and hadn’t stopped weeping since Ellery made his exit. “I don’t have shit more to say unless someone wants to help me. I did what was right for the dragons.”
Drystan snorted. “In 1369 there was another man who thought the same. You know the story of Imperial Duke Bernal. You’re also aware that his actions cost him his life.”
“His dukes murdered him. They almost killed Zane too. I mean I might as well be honest and tell you I don’t like him, but he was seven years old at the time. There’s no telling how long it’ll take, but Zane is his father’s son. Chrys needs to watch his back.”
He wasn’t about to argue that Chrysander had nothing to worry about where Zane was concerned. Wesley had been stupid and arrogant enough to harm Ellery; he certainly wasn’t going to listen to Drystan’s defense of the equally honorable Zane. “What’s wrong with Damian? Or Costas?”
“What? Nothing.”
“Oh, I figured you didn’t like anybody but Chrys.”
“He deserves a better mate.”
“Was that a role you coveted for yourself?”
“No. I would’ve known if he belonged to me the minute we met, but nothing happened. I got the job as office manager, and I helped change the Council from the small thing the Arch Lich oversaw into what we have today.”
The Arch Lich had grown the Council from almost nothing. The warlocks who had created it died before they were able to do much of anything, but clearly Wesley only saw himself as the savior of everything. “It was all you, huh?”
“Everyone knows it’s the behind the scenes people who get the work done.”
“Right.”
This time Wesley used the heel of his hand to wipe the moisture from his nose. “Your office manager, Kyle, is probably more valuable than you give him credit for.”
Drystan loved Kyle, he really did, but the man could hardly make it through a day without harming whatever machine he touched. Wesley might be wrong about that one. “Sure.”
A fat tear plopped onto Wesley’s thigh. “Are you going to kill me?”
“No one’s going to grant you clemency.”
“Of course not,” Wesley spat out as his sad eyes blazed with fury. “I have to die because Fate made a fucking mistake in picking that stupid elf for Chrys. Somehow, I must pay the price for that. It should be all those fucking people in Sorcery D’Vaire who undid what I had arranged for the good of the entire Council. Fuck that whole court full of bottom-feeding assholes anyway. Fuck—”
With no remorse, Drystan let his dagger fly just as he’d been taught by Skeleton Lords Gavrael and Gedeon D’Vaire and the rest of the sentinels he trained with on a regular basis. It landed with perfect accuracy in Wesley’s heart.
“Don’t talk about my son that way, you fucking piece of shit,” Drystan said as Wesley slumped to the floor. There was no way he’d tolerate listening to anyone disparage his only child who happened to be a part of the motley group of D’Vaires who proudly called themselves freaks. Drystan would never get the sight of Conley with a sword buried in his chest out of his mind, but he’d exacted a sliver of vengeance for the dragons. Not to mention Chrysander and Ellery, who were nearly separated for eternity. Nothing was more sacred to Drystan than a matebond, and he considered the day a job well done on behalf of the Order of the Fallen Knights too.
Chapter 40
Zane emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and wearing a frown. His gaze sought out Tiri, who was buried under not only the bunched-up covers but their pillows as well. There was only a thick swatch of white hair with a single streak of teal in it to tell Zane that was where he was. “I thought you were going to take a shower with me.”
Grumbles emerged from the bed but nothing more. With a sigh, Zane walked over and sat down. He reached his hand out and managed to find one firm curve of Tiri’s ass, which he gave a squeeze. His gorgeous mate let out a little moan and lifted his hips as if he couldn’t get enough.
“None of that. If you wanted to have sex again, you should’ve gotten out of this bed earlier.”
Tiri grabbed one of the cushions covering his face and tossed it aside. His eyes met Zane’s, and they were full of annoyance. “I tried.”
Still kneading Tiri’s ass, Zane smiled. “You tried? Is there something wrong?”
“Yes.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Well, right now, I’m growing hard because you keep rubbing my butt.”
