Heart of the High King (D'Vaire, Book 19)

by Jessamyn Kingley

  “I don’t give him orders,” Rafe stated, proud that he could string a sentence together.

  “Sullivan texted me, you know. Nobody had any clue where the fuck you were. They’re worried sick. Why didn’t you let them know you were okay? I guess the same reason you chose to keep Aleksander guessing. You must fucking live for drama.”

  “Please don’t get into my business,” was all Rafe said as he walked out of the kitchen and went straight into the office, where Aleksander was at his desk. Worth was hunched in a chair, typing away on his computer, and he could see Kitchi through the connecting door on the phone. Mac and Brogan were sprawled on the sofas, and whatever conversation they were having stopped the moment they spotted Rafe.

  They went silent and stared at him, making Rafe wonder if everyone thought as much of him as Kendrick did but were simply better at hiding it. It was because of Aleksander that he’d been gifted with healing and any kindness, and it would be foolish of Rafe to forget that. Not the type of person people took to easily, it was only the man picked for him by Fate that had ever cared for him unconditionally.

  When his eyes met Aleksander’s, his mate’s brow creased. “What’s up, babe?”

  “Nothing. When are Conley and Drystan going to be here?”

  “Any minute now. Brogan, tell them to meet us in the Royal Den.”

  The Grand Duke assured him he would do just that, and Aleksander grabbed Rafe’s hand to lead him across the hall. Once the door was shut he pulled him into a hug. “You look upset, you okay?”

  “Nervous, I guess,” Rafe replied. Unwilling to cause discord if he could manage it, he stuffed Kendrick’s words into the part of his brain with all the rest of the shit his family had done to him. While it was highly unlikely he’d ever deserve Aleksander, he had no intention of letting him go either, so Rafe pressed his lips to his mate’s and decided at some point he’d be honest enough to tell him about Kendrick’s displeasure.

  A knock sounded on the door just as he leaned up for another kiss, and it opened to reveal the Reverent Knights.

  “Yay,” Mortis said, running to them with his tail wagging like a giant dog.

  The men in the room greeted each other, and after the fallen knights were done giving affection to Mortis, they took seats around the round table in the center of the space.

  “How’re you feeling?” Conley asked.

  “I don’t think I’ve felt this good in my life,” Rafe revealed. “I got so much work done this morning, and I’ve still got tons of energy. Plus, I can eat what I want.”

  “I’m so damn happy for you guys.”

  “Thanks, so what brings you here?”

  “You mean besides dinner since Con can’t cook?” Drystan asked, which earned him a glare. “We’ve been inundated by phone calls from King Kestle and Duke Sullivan.”

  Aleksander’s face went stony, and his fingers tightened around Rafe’s hand where they were locked together. “What the fuck do they want?”

  “They claim to be distraught with worry over Duke Rafferty, who simply up and left Court Kestle,” Drystan drawled.

  “We had an idea, but I want you to know that there’s no obligation here. We thought you could call King Kestle. See how he reacts. If you don’t feel comfortable doing that, it’s fine. No pressure, okay?” Conley asked.

  Rafe lifted his chin. “I’m not afraid of them. They can’t hurt me again. I’ll call them if you think it’ll help.”

  “We’re not sure it’ll amount to anything, but maybe something will slip,” Drystan responded.

  Rafe found the High King he loved studying him with affection and awe. “You’re incredible, do you know that?”

  “Shut up,” he said, his face blazing with heat and a stupid grin on his face. Turning back to the Reverent Knights, he got a kiss on one of his red cheeks. “Let’s do this, yeah?”

  Conley put his phone in the center of the table as it rang.

  “Duke Sullivan,” his brother said. His voice made a shiver go down Rafe’s spine but not in terror. No, what Rafe wanted was justice for the bastard who’d masqueraded as his brother for eight centuries.

  “Your Grace, it’s RK Conley. I’m here with my mate. Do you have a minute? We have someone who’d like to speak with you and King Kestle.”

  “Have you finally reached my brother?” Sullivan asked, and Rafe thought he deserved an award for the hope he managed to put into his voice. Or perhaps he wanted to be assured Rafe was truly at D’Vaire, so he could plan some lame attempt to finish the job he’d started. Rafe almost wished his ass would show up at the gates so someone inside could flatten him.

  “Hi, Sully,” Rafe drawled, wrapping his free hand around Aleksander’s forearm. His mate was his anchor, and he wanted him to make him proud by facing his family.

  “Rafferty! For Fate’s sake, where have you been all these months? I’ve spoken with Kendrick, and he told me you didn’t get to D’Vaire until recently. Why would you put everyone…including your mate…through this? His Highness is here too. Father, it’s Rafferty on the phone.”

  “Boy, is that truly you?” his father barked through the line. “You have a great deal of explaining to do. I taught you a matebond comes above everything. Those D’Vaires contacted us plenty searching for you, not to mention my dear heart, broken at the loss of my middle son. Not that we even knew you had a mate. What kind of fool notion did you have in your head not to share that with us? We had to learn it on the television like we were complete strangers to you.”

  Their insistence that he had simply taken off amused Rafe. If this was their defense, then they surely misunderstood how thorough fallen knights were. There might not be anything to hold them accountable now, but Rafe had absolute trust in the Reverent Knights. Aleksander was observing him carefully, no doubt looking for fear or pain, but the only thing Rafe found inside was a burning rage for justice for what they’d nearly robbed him of. “My name is High King Rafe D’Vairedraconis. I haven’t given you leave to drop my title, nor will I. It’s foolish of you to pretend that you didn’t know where I was since you’re the ones who took me to Kentucky. Have you conveniently forgotten the mine where you chained me up? I’m sure you’ve got it cleaned up now. It must’ve shocked the shit out of you when you discovered I was gone. You probably hoped I was dead in a ditch somewhere. Guess what, fuckers? Sorcery D’Vaire cured me of everything. Every scar you burned, whipped, or etched into my skin is now a memory, but I won’t forget them. I remember how I got them and who did it. Would you like to discuss it?”

  “What kind of cockamamie story is this?” Charlton demanded. “All I’ve done your whole life is care for you. Did someone hurt you? You must’ve taken a hit to the brain if you think I have any responsibility for that.”

  “Your Highness, it’s possible that your memories have become twisted,” Sullivan reasoned. “We’re your family. Why would we do anything to cause you pain?”

  “I believe you told me it was because I was a fucking faggot,” Rafe stated without inflection while Conley’s lip curled in disgust.

  The silence on the other line was deafening, and Rafe imagined the pair were staring at each other stupidly, trying to come up with another lie to serve them.

  “Your Highness, there’s nothing wrong with being gay, and you shouldn’t use the word ‘faggot,’ ” Sullivan said. “I’m sorry you aren’t comfortable with your sexuality, but again, you’re projecting your issues onto us.”

  Something inside of Rafe snapped, and he bared his teeth. “Look, you miserable fucks, I don’t have any damn problem with my sexuality, despite growing up with a bunch of brainless assholes that were complete homophobes. You can keep up this psychotic plan to try and convince everyone I’m fucking confused, but it’s not going to work. I don’t care how long it takes, I’m going to nail your asses to the wall,” Rafe yelled. “You will not get away with nearly destroying me.”

  Conley tapped the phone, ending the call before anyone on the other end had a chan
ce to respond to Rafe’s tirade. Blinking slowly, Rafe’s lashes slipped down as Aleksander cupped his head and pressed his lips to his mess of curls. Needing his mate, he met Aleksander’s mouth in a soft caress that melted away Rafe’s anger.

  “Sorry,” Rafe murmured. “That probably didn’t help much.”

  “Don’t worry, they weren’t going to incriminate themselves,” Conley assured him. “I’m going to talk to Alaric. I think if both the fallen knights and the Sentinel Brotherhood continue to pressure King Kestle and everyone in their court, someone will crack. We’ll get this.”

  “I trust you guys,” Rafe told him. Smiling at Aleksander once he released his gentle hold, he faced the Reverent Knights. “I can wait for justice.”

  “You’re pretty fucking awesome, you know that?” Conley said to Rafe. “Aleksander, you’re a lucky bitch, and have I told you how damn good you look together?”

  “No, and please keep saying it,” Aleksander teased, running a hand over Rafe’s back. “You did a great job talking to those asshats.”

  “Hate them,” Mortis said with a growl.

  “Thanks, Sander—and me too, Mortis.” Rafe had a great deal of respect for people who managed to give forgiveness, but he’d found that deep well didn’t exist inside him. After their betrayal, Rafe doubted he’d ever have an ounce of mercy for Sullivan or Charlton.

  Chapter 50

  After the tumultuous phone call with his family, Rafe had shaken off the pain that rose to the surface whenever he reflected on what had nearly ripped him from the life he was now assembling. Dinner with the D’Vaires and the Reverent Knights was enjoyed; then he built more muscles in his arm throwing the ball for Mortis. Now, he had a whole new wave of strong emotions gripping him as he walked into the living room with his hand in Aleksander’s. The entire family was gathered for their weekly meeting, and he couldn’t quite understand where his nerves were coming from.

  Aleksander led him toward a sofa, and the chatter in the room died as they took their seats. Making the mistake of locking eyes with his brother, who had disdain written on his face, Rafe’s confidence sunk. While Aleksander had forgiven him for breaking the rules of matebonds, it was clear that he might be the only one. Sorcery D’Vaire had healed him for Aleksander, but Rafe believed he had yet to earn their respect and mercy for walking away.

  “Thanks, everybody, for being here tonight,” Aleksander said, holding Rafe’s palm between his. Mortis leaned heavily against Rafe’s leg as he sat next to him like the sentry he was. Rafe stroked his soft fur and was grateful to have at least two allies in what he couldn’t help but consider hostile territory. “I’d like to start by officially welcoming Rafe to his first meeting. It’s nice to know I’m no longer expected to lead this fantastic bunch of freaks by myself.”

  Rafe offered Aleksander a small smile and failed not to blush as his mate kissed the corner of his mouth. “Thanks.”

  Aleksander flashed him a grin, then returned to his family. “Okay, let’s start with Dra’Kaedan. What’s up with the sanctuary?”

  “Well, I’m not sure that we’re even open right now,” Dra’Kaedan responded with a shrug.

  “I don’t believe we should be. Not while Rafe’s healing and honestly, not until they apprehend whoever hurt you,” Brogan stated.

  “No one’s been arrested yet. Is it really feasible to keep people from finding sanctuary because of his case?” Kendrick asked.

  “I don’t want you guys to close the doors because of me,” Rafe interjected.

  “Dra’Kaedan?” Aleksander asked.

  “Look, I’m not afraid of there being any possibility that whoever hurt Rafe is going to make it into our dome. No matter who is at fault, our application and process are too thorough for there to be a conspiracy to get in here. And even if they did, there’s no way they could hurt him again. But I’m more concerned that we give you two the chance to focus on your matebond without the intrusion of new people in the house.”

  “And Rafe’s been through a lot; he may wish for the opportunity to deal with the aftereffects on his emotions,” Worth added.

  “I really don’t want to impact the sanctuary,” Rafe insisted, growing almost panicky at the idea that he would so greatly influence Dra’Kaedan’s Coven in a negative way.

  “There really isn’t any reason to make this a big deal,” Renny stated, with a glare for Brogan. “We don’t even have any viable candidates who’ve applied.”

  “Since I doubt we’re going to get a consensus on this, let’s move ahead as if we’re open. If you find an application that might be good for us, then at that time, we can discuss our options. Perhaps we can have them stay at our sister sanctuary until we can agree that it’s feasible to bring them here,” Aleksander decided.

  “That’s a good idea. Elven D’Vaire is dying to expand, but as predicted, they aren’t getting any applications. Elves just aren’t accustomed to having a choice to go to a sanctuary geared for them. And it’s difficult to break the thousands of years of tradition that have taught them to be insular,” Dra’Kaedan stated. “We’re going to start more aggressively advertising it. Kalthekor’s got it all over the company website, and I believe eventually we’ll get some elves willing to try out this new idea.”

  “I do hope we can help some elves,” Evlithar said, his blue eyes troubled. “Kalthekor’s trying so hard, and the elves at the new house are anxious to help, too.”

  “I think when we have our next family get-together, we should lobby the other races to advertise as well. If we can plaster ads everywhere, it will get the measure out far and wide,” Aleksander suggested.

  “I’ll call Kalthekor to get the ad he’s using. I can have it on the Dérive website in the morning,” Killian, the man who ran the company said. “You know, we could do a postcard, magnet, or something like that and have my druids hand them out, at the very least, to every elf they teleport.”

  Evlithar clasped his hands together and smiled brightly. “What a lovely idea, Killian. That could be very helpful.”

  “Speaking of sanctuaries, often when we have new members arrive, we find ourselves with great input to improve. Rafe, you’re the latest addition to Dra’Kaedan’s Coven, do you have any feedback you think might be good for us?” Aleksander asked.

  Put on the spot without any warning made Rafe’s brain blank, but he forced himself to think it through as every eye in the house burned through his skin. Remembering his questioning of his brother about money, the response hadn’t matched up with the rules. “When you get to D’Vaire, you’ve come from somewhere different. There’s a lot of information to adjust to and nothing written down—or at least not where you’d easily find it. If you have questions, you’ve got to ask someone and while everyone is very nice, it can be intimidating, especially if you aren’t in the best place mentally, emotionally, or physically. Have you ever considered a guidebook of sorts? A manual that you could hand out to new residents?”

  “I didn’t have any trouble adjusting when I arrived,” Kendrick responded with a little shrug.

  Kitchi’s laughter was musical. “Of course not, you met your mate. I agree with Rafe, it can be confusing when you first get here. Everyone’s super nice, of course, but I’m always worried about getting on someone’s nerves by bombarding them with questions. If it’s okay with my bosses, Worth and Killian, I’d love to help you put something together, Rafe.”

  “Like you need to ask such a thing,” Worth muttered.

  “I’d be happy to pitch in as well,” Bard Ashby D’Vaire chimed in.

  “I’m so on Team Rafe,” Renny enthused.

  “Count me in as well,” Grand Summoner Familiar Lucian said.

  “I’d like to join Team Rafe,” High Arcanist Royce offered.

  “Oh, I think this will be so great,” Evlithar exclaimed. “I want to help, and I’d also like to take this idea to Elven D’Vaire, and we could put one together for them, too. Our structures are similar.”

  “Wow, guys, t
hat’s great. I’d love to work on this with you,” Rafe replied, excited that his idea had been readily accepted.

  “If I might suggest just one caveat,” Saura stated with a finger raised. “Perhaps for now, Rafe, you allow the others to travel back and forth from here to Elven D’Vaire. While your visible swelling is down, your tissues are likely still saturated with magic, and we don’t want to damage you.”

  “I certainly don’t want to undo anything you guys did. I have no problem staying here,” Rafe assured her. The reality was, he was in no hurry to leave D’Vaire for any reason. Not only was their safety there, but it was where Aleksander was, and Rafe preferred to be at his side whenever possible. Rafe was making up for lost time and enjoying every damn minute with his best friend and lover. “Do you guys want to meet with me sometime tomorrow, and we can start throwing around ideas of what should be included as well as divvying up duties?”

  “Absolutely, is morning okay with everyone?” Evlithar asked.

  Since Rafe already knew Kalthekor and his mate’s son, Pyxlevir, and his best friend, Gramlithyn, were at D’Vaire in the afternoons being minded and entertained by Evlithar, he was happy to accommodate the friendly elf’s schedule. They went with ten o’clock, and Rafe carefully logged it into the calendar on his phone.

  When he was finished, Aleksander again clasped his hand. “I can’t wait to see your guidebook.”

  “I want input from everyone so once we have a draft, I’ll make it available, then we can refine, add, or subtract,” Rafe assured his mate while hoping he hadn’t overstepped his duties. Never a king before, the last thing he wanted to do was step on the toes of Aleksander, who’d been running D’Vaire since he was barely more than a drakeling.

  “I’m glad you came up with the idea,” Aleksander responded quietly. “Next item on the agenda. Since Rafe’s arrival, we haven’t had a family get-together and we’re overdue. Are there any objections to having one this weekend?”

  “Is it not ultimately up to Rafe?” Worth asked. “Not only is he High King, but the one who has been through the wringer. Not that we get wild or anything, but it’s quite hectic around here, and I can attest to the fact that there’s often a great deal of sleep missed.”