Ashes of Midnight - By Lara Adrian Page 0,53

States with Andreas. And although the two males spoke in low voices, she heard Tegan's murmured condolences on the deaths of Andreas's kin and the destruction of his Darkhaven. "I recall one of your young nephews and his shy Breedmate who'd been with child when I last saw you in Berlin a year ago," Tegan added, his brows furrowed over those fierce green eyes. Andreas gave him a sober nod. "They asked me to be godfather while you were there, I believe." "Yes," the warrior replied, a faint smile in remembrance before his expression darkened with sympathy. "We were all stunned to hear what happened. The attack won't go unmet, not if the Order has anything to say about it." Tegan sent the briefest look in Claire's direction, unspoken acknowledgment of her mate's hand in the tragedy that Andreas alone had managed to survive. Her sense of guilt and awkwardness increased, as did the tense knot in her belly. Her nerves were stretched peculiarly taut, putting an anxious flutter in her chest. Andreas put his hand on Tegan's shoulder as they continued their quiet conversation. "I want your word on something, my friend. If it turns out that Dragos is even remotely connected to what happened to my Darkhaven, I'll do whatever I can to help you get the bastard and shut him down. But Roth is mine alone. Can you give me that much?" The warrior inclined his head in a slow nod.

"I know the kind of hatred you're feeling. I've been there myself. I'm the last one to tell you how to deal with your own demons, but just be careful, yeah? Plenty of bastards out there deserve a good killing, but vengeance will consume you if you don't control it." It may be too late for that advice, Claire thought, watching Andreas's rigid stance and haunted, hardened gaze as the four of them made their way toward the waiting SUV His need to avenge his family and his human lover only seemed to be growing stronger, more volatile, for the fact that the justice he craved had yet to be realized. After the horrors he showed her in his dream, there was a part of her that understood his rage, even shared it. But from what she'd seen of him these past couple of days, she worried that his own life might mean nothing to him.

Would he hold anything sacred if he finally got his chance to destroy the one who'd hurt him? Wilhelm. Just thinking about him turned her stomach with contempt. Claire couldn't cling to any reasonable hope that Andreas's accusations against Wilhelm had no basis. But what terrified her the most was that her involvement with Andreas now could bring no good--not to either of them. Her affection for him was something he didn't seem to want or need. He had a single purpose in living now, and she knew him well enough to understand that if it came down to a choice between his own life and getting the justice he felt he needed, he would spend his last breath seeing that purpose through to the end. The idea of Andreas dying--again, after the miracle of his resurrection and return to her life--was something Claire would be unable to bear.

The thought nearly staggered her as she neared the vehicle and felt the cool night air coming in from the city beyond. The feeling of unease dogged her now, and there was a mounting jangle swelling in her veins. A waking sense of a presence she hadn't quite recognized until now, when it was clanging in her cells like an alarm. Wilhelm was near. Oh, God. How had she missed that? She'd been so wrapped up in Andreas and his friends, in her own confusion of emotions, that she hadn't picked up on her body's signals that her blood-bonded mate was somewhere in the area. Somewhere in the city of Boston, she was certain of it. What was he doing here? "Claire, are you okay?" Elise placed her hand on her arm in concern. "What is it?" She shook her head, more fervently when Andreas paused with Tegan and turned a questioning, suspicious look on her.

"I feel a little light-headed," she said, casting for a reasonable excuse that didn't involve telling Andreas that the enemy he intended to kill--who would be equally determined to kill him, as well--was probably only a few miles away from where he stood. Andreas couldn't know that Wilhelm was

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