The King (Black Dagger Brotherhood #12) - J.R. Ward Page 0,203

tool once.

There was no doubt he would again.

“So what conversation were you having with him?” he asked, that stare narrowing.

Layla pulled her heavy robes more closely around her body. “I should think if you wish to know, you may inquire of him yourself. If you will excuse me, I shall take my leave of you—”

The hand that locked on her arm bit into her flesh, and his handsome face darkened to the point of menace. “No, I do not think so. I want you to tell me what you were discussing with him.”

Angling her chin up, she met the soldier in the eye. “He wanted to know if it was real.”

Those brows came down, his grip loosening some. “I beg your pardon?”

“The divorce proclamation. He wanted to know if Wrath has indeed given up his queen—and I assured him it was true.”

The soldier dropped his hold. “Assuming you can be trusted.”

“Whether I can or cannot be doesn’t change the truth. You’ll find out elsewhere, I’m sure.”

Probably not, actually, given the lack of contact the household had with the rest of the race. But mayhap this male would not know that.

“So it was an arranged mating the King cared naught for.”

“On the contrary, their love was obvious to all. He was well and truly bonded.” Layla forced her shoulders to shrug casually. “Again, you will hear this from others, I’m sure.”

Throe shook his head. “Then he could not have let her go.”

“Maybe you should consider this against any further ambitions you have for the throne.” She took a surreptitious step back. “A male who will set aside his bonded mate will do anything to keep that which others seek to take from him. The foe you are seeking out by your actions will not be beaten—and he will come for you all. Mark my word.”

“Fierce little thing, aren’t you.”

“Again, it is merely fact for you to discover at your leisure. Or not. Either way, it bothers me not.”

As he let her take another step away from him, she thought there was a good chance she was going to be able to depart.

“There was something else,” he said. “Wasn’t there.”

“No.”

“Then why didn’t he dematerialize?”

She frowned, having not considered that. “You’ll have to ask him.”

“Not his way.” The soldier’s eyes went down her body. “And I think I can guess. Be of care, Chosen. He is not who you think he is. He is capable of betrayals that a female like you couldn’t begin to contemplate.”

“If you will excuse me, I shall be taking my leave the now.” She curtsied and then struggled to focus, focus, focus …

“Be of care.”

Those words haunted her as she disappeared from the meadow … and found her way back to the mansion’s front entrance.

As she contemplated the heavy door, a shudder went through her. That fighter struck her as more terrifying than Xcor himself: the latter would never hurt her. She didn’t know how she was so sure of that, but it was like the beat of her heart—something she could feel in the center of her chest.

That other male? Not the case. At all.

Closing her eyes, she hated this in between with Xcor. How was she going to pass the hours before tomorrow at midnight? And why was he making her wait?

She already knew what his answer was going to be.

SIXTY

Selena put her full robing back on. Everything, undergarments and all. In spite of the fact that her hands were shaking so badly, she could barely marshal them.

When she finally walked out into the bedroom, she found Trez sitting on a straight-backed chair in front of the desk that she sometimes used to compose diary entries. And indeed, she was glad she had closed her leather-bound volume after she’d finished with last tonight’s passage.

It was all about him, naturally.

And she had a feeling there was going to be an addendum.

He looked over at her, his dark eyes flashing for a moment. “You ready to do this now?”

Dearest Virgin Scribe, of all the things she thought he’d tell her … that was not it.

“How can you … sell them?” she said roughly.

He sighed. “They want the money. I make it happen. I make it safe.”

“And they … you get paid for this as well.”

“Yeah.”

She had to sit down before she fell over—and went toward the bed before thinking, No, not there. Instead, she chose the loveseat that was in front of the fireplace. Settling in, she tucked her feet underneath her bottom and made sure the skirting