“Pish.” His mother waved dismissively. “You can survive the death of a blood bond—people do it all the time.”
“This is no ordinary bond,” Laurent protested. “Paul is my Coeur de Sang.”
“Such nonsense—there is no such thing, no matter what your old nurse told you.”
His father glared at his mother. “You should have told me he was going to see her earlier—look at all the problems it has caused.” “How was I to know he was up there with a mangy were? Anyway, don’t blame me—I’m sure he gets his abysmal taste in men from you.”
“How dare you? I would never bed a were.” His father frowned. “That goes beyond poor taste and into the realm of lunacy—which he undoubtedly got from your side of the family.”
Laurent could bear their bickering no longer. “Mother, Father, please, Paul needs me. I must go.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort.” His mother smiled and patted his cheek. “Now be a good boy and do as you are told.”
“We’re going out to face the council now and you’ll behave properly if you know what’s good for you.” Laurent’s father looked at the huge made vamp, the tracker he’d sent to find Laurent in the first place. “Bring him in right behind me and see that he does as he’s told.” Then he held out his arm to Laurent’s mother who took it with a nod.
“Come, darling, this is a great day for our family.” She smiled brightly at Laurent.
“Your mother is right. And if you do anything to ruin it or dishonor the family name I’ll see your skin stripped from your body.” Laurent’s father gave him one last glare and then his parents turned and left the room where he’d been dressed and held.
“C’mon, boy. Let’s do like your daddy said.” The tracker propelled him out the door, his hands firm on Laurent’s shoulders to keep him upright. By then, Laurent needed the support—he could barely stand, let alone walk.
He could feel the echoes of pain through his link with Paul. They were kicking him, beating him—his wolf was in agony. Laurent felt every punch, every kick, every blow that fell but he refused to tune Paul out. He kept the link as wide open as he could and poured as much strength as he could muster toward his lover. Be strong—I will come to you. I don’t know how but I will get free and come to you, mon amour.
There was no answer from Paul’s end. Only pain.
*
“Kill him! I said kill him, you fucking pendejos. Put your fucking backs into it!”
Angel was probably shouting but Paul could barely hear him. His ears were going—probably from being kicked in the head so many times. His vision was blurry too, one eye almost swollen shut and the other clouded by blood.
Gonna die now. I’m sorry, Laurent…so sorry but I can’t take you down with me. Love you too much. He thought the words but was too weak to send them through the link. Too weak to do anything but curl up and hurt and bleed. He tried to shield himself from the worst of the blows but his arms were still taped behind his back. And he was so fucking cold. He could feel Laurent sending love and strength through their link and it helped but not enough. Nothing could be enough now, when his own pack had turned on him.
He’d been beaten before, back when he was first jumped-in to the Locas but that had been mild compared to this. This was…this was going to be his death. And Laurent’s too if he didn’t do something about it.
With the last of his strength, Paul reached inside himself and imagined gripping the slender trunk of the golden tree rooted in his heart. This is going to hurt like hell. It was true—this was going to hurt more than anything his pack was doing to him. But it had to be done.
I love you, Laurent. I should have told you that before. Sorry I didn’t. But I’m telling you now…I love you. Somehow he was able to send the message. He had a blurred image of Laurent standing in front of a table with people all around. The vampire had an agonized look on his face, doubtless because he could feel Paul’s pain. Well, he wasn’t going to feel it anymore and he wasn’t going to die—Paul would fucking well see to that.
Love you, he sent and then, bracing himself, he tightened his mental grip on the slender golden tree and pulled with all his might.
*
“We’re here, little buddy. Look alive,” muttered the tracker.
Laurent looked up and saw that he was standing in the formal dining room of the Coconut Grove villa. Seated at the table were three ancient vampires, all born to the Blood, of course. A made vampire would never be allowed in the council. Standing to either side of the table were the other people, vampires and human alike, who made up his father’s retinue. All of them waited in hushed, expectant silence for the ceremony to begin.