Embracing Winter (Lords of Discord #4) - Jocelynn Drake Page 0,42

and now you’re stuck in the middle of a vampire war.”

Fox shoved a hand through his red hair and scratched his scalp, his eyes wide. “Yeah, I doubt my mom saw that one coming. But it’s like you said—we’ll get to the root of this prophecy nonsense and probably figure out that Damon’s idiots grabbed the wrong witch in the first place.” He laughed, but there was no mistaking that it was forced.

Winter wanted to tell him that he was likely right. That Fox wasn’t the right witch. But he doubted it would be that simple. What made it all worse was that he couldn’t promise Fox that he’d keep him safe. That he’d ever get to go home again.

“What about you? You have three brothers. Are they all vampires?”

“Yes.”

“That’s insane.”

Winter smirked. His brothers were always a good distraction. “We were all changed at the same time one hundred and seventy-seven years ago.”

“By who?”

“Our dad.”

“No way! Was it like some ancient family curse? Have all the men in your family been turned into vampires?”

Winter shook his head. “Not a curse. More like…an honor. We chose to become vampires to protect and look after our mother, who was also a vampire.”

“That’s an amazing legacy. Do you still have both of your parents? That would be crazy after so many long years, for your family to be all together.”

“No, my mother was murdered less than a year ago.” The words came out harder than he’d intended. It was an anger that was growing older with each passing night, but the fire wasn’t dimming as he’d expected. Killing the leader of the Black Wolf clan and scattering the remaining members hadn’t been enough. He wasn’t sure what would finally be enough to get rid of his pain. Julianna Varik had deserved better in so many ways, and it just hadn’t worked out that way.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay,” Winter cut him off. He didn’t want or need apologies. Clearing his throat as if to force himself to speak a little more evenly, he continued, “I still have my father. He lives close to us now, and we see him frequently. He’s a very good, honorable man who cares a great deal for his family.”

“Is he going to rip my heart out or drain my blood when he sees me?”

Fox asked the question so calmly that it actually took an extra second or two for what he was saying to sink in. Winter jerked in his seat, looking over at the witch.

“What? No!”

Fox shrugged. “If he believes the prophecy and wants to protect his family…”

“Aiden isn’t going touch you,” Winter snarled. No one was going to touch Fox. The witch was his responsibility. He would find a way to protect the Variks and keep Fox alive. And if something had to happen to Fox…he was going to do it. Fox wasn’t going to suffer more than he already had. “We’re going to figure this out,” he repeated. He wasn’t even sure what the hell that meant any longer, but he was clinging to the words because he had no other answer.

“Thanks, Winter,” Fox said before turning in his seat again to face forward. “I guess it’s clear I didn’t get stuck with the kinky brother.”

Winter’s laugh filled the SUV, and he swerved slightly on the road. “You mean Bel?” He’d never heard Bel referred to as the kinky brother.

“Well, yeah. He’s got two werewolves as lovers.”

Winter choked on some more laughter. “Rafe probably still holds the title of kinky brother, but I guess it makes sense.”

“What do you mean?”

Winter flashed Fox a wicked grin. “Rafe and Bel are twins. Rafe has the reputation for being the kinky, sex-fiend playboy.”

Peals of laughter from Fox bounced off the windows. Winter suddenly couldn’t wait to tease Rafe about the fact that his nerdy twin had stolen the title of “kinky brother” from him. That was going to be a very entertaining night.

His relationship with each brother was very distinct. With Marcus, he found a mix of surrogate father and friend in evil schemes against vampires who tried to threaten their family. Marcus was a bit of a genius when it came to manipulating and maneuvering the other vampire clans. Winter had been happy to learn from him.

Bel was the worrier. The gentle soul with the soft heart. The one who’d rip someone open and hang their organs from the ceiling while they were still attached to the person. He also saw far more than anyone gave

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