Page 79 of Heart of the High King
Chapter 33
The mortifying phone call from Chrysander was the wake-up Aleksander needed. It reconnected him with his common sense and every other part of his personality that had apparently been on hold since Rafe walked through his door. Tearing a page right out of Sorcery D’Vaire’s book, he accepted that nothing was impossible, including his relationship with Rafe. Those sorcerers had made Aleksander immortal so he could extend Rafe’s life, and that was the only thing that mattered. Who cared if he had a walker or was confined to a wheelchair? Aleksander certainly didn’t, and the scars were no deterrent either. It was the man behind those remarkable blue eyes that held his heart.
There was a commotion in the hallway, and Aleksander met Brogan’s eyes. The Grand Duke was pissed, and it was without question at him. But he had to deal with Rafe first. His mate was in his chair and had a gray pallor.
“Rafe, I wanted you to know I just filled out the form to officially make you a D’Vaire. I apologize for not doing it the moment you arrived. Did you want to look at it before I send it to the Reverent Knights?”
When he scowled, Aleksander’s reaction was the same as ever—he loved that damn expression on his face. “Is it necessary?”
His voice was strained, and Aleksander wanted to talk to him for longer, but Rafe obviously needed rest. “No, it’s not, I’ll send it. I’ve got a couple of other things we should discuss, but it can wait after you’ve had a chance to relax.”
“Okay, can you update Mortis’s too? He wants to hyphenate his last name.”
“The first Daray-D’Vaire. Consider it done.”
“Thanks,” Rafe said and rolled away with the wolf sentinel loping along at his side.
Brogan pulled off his crown. “We need to talk.”
“Come on in,” Aleksander invited, walking to his desk. “But if you’re going to yell about Rafe…it’s not necessary. Chrys already tore me a new one.”
“Give me the diet stuff so I can give it to Noir and Kendrick,” Dra’Kaedan insisted and once Brogan handed it to him, the Grand Warlock took off.
“Are you done sulking or whatever?” Brogan demanded. “I get that his condition is shocking, and I know it’s hurting you, but he fucking needs you.”
“I swear I just lost my mind a little.”
“Okay, you used past tense, so I’m feeling better,” Brogan remarked, flopping on the sofa and tossing his coronet on the coffee table.
Worth appeared in the doorway that separated his office from Aleksander’s. “Did I hear that you’ve pulled your head from your ass?”
“Yes, and I’m sending Rafe’s—or I should say, Dermot’s—identification form right now,” Aleksander responded, sending the e-file directly to Drystan and Conley. “I’ll talk to him about a crown design when he’s had a chance to rest.”
Worth’s brows lifted. “You put his title on there?”
“It’s his. I’m not going to take it from him.”
“No one knows you two are mates. It might cause a bit of an uproar.”
“Can’t be worse than the ass-chewing Chrys just gave me. Which brings me to his account. I want money it in immediately, and who the fuck told Rafe that he needed to have his own?” Aleksander asked.
“I’ll transfer it as soon as we get the notification that the fallen knights have done the change on their end,” Worth promised. “Someone told Rafe that he had to spend his own funds?”
“Yeah, who would do that?” Aleksander demanded.
“Who would do what?” Dra’Kaedan asked, waltzing in. The grandeur of his title was gone, and he was in his usual attire of jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt.
“Some asshat in our house told Rafe that he needed his own money,” Brogan told his mate while Dra’Kaedan climbed up on the sofa next to him.
“He didn’t say who?”
“No, but you can bet I’m going to ask him,” Aleksander said.
“His Highness is done ignoring his other half,” Worth told Dra’Kaedan.
“About time, but I get it. He’s not only a fucking mess but after all these months…what happened to him?”
“And why is it still an open case?” Aleksander asked. “Whoever hurt him needs to pay.”
