She had some vague memory of seeing him down in the underground facility.

“And your bright ideas just keep coming tonight,” he snapped. “Are you going for some kind of award?”

“I need to talk to Wrath.”

“No, you need to take her back where she belongs.” He glanced over at Sarah. “No offense, ma’am.”

Murhder’s upper lip began to twitch. “You can’t keep me from the King—”

“The hell I can’t—”

Murhder stepped up into the male’s face. “What is wrong with you, huh? What the fuck is your problem—”

“You took my adopted son out into the field when neither of you were prepared or armed and you went rogue with him.” The male bared his fangs. “My son. Do you have any idea how important that kid is to me? There’s only one person on the planet who means more to me than John does, and I’m mated to her. That is why I’m pissed off at you.”

Murhder cursed. Stepped back.

The other male’s voice dropped. “Look, I don’t actually have a problem with you. What I have a problem with is the chaos you bring wherever you go. We’ve got real issues to deal with. Serious shit. And here you are on the sidelines, kicking up drama. It’s not what any of us needs, and it’s not doing you any good, either. Now, please, take her and yourself, and do what’s right in both cases. Which is get gone.”

Sarah opened her mouth. But before she could speak, Murhder cut in.

“Everything you say is true. All of it. And I’m sorry I took John out in the field. Just let us see Wrath and we’ll go peacefully. You have my word.”

“Your word isn’t good around here anymore.”

Sarah put her hand on Murhder’s arm in case he decided to get aggressive again, and waited until he looked down at her. “It’s okay. I can tell Jane everything I’m thinking in terms of John’s care and she can take it from there. She’s a good doctor and she’ll be able to do it all.” Then she glared at the military guy. “And excuse me, but you might consider the fact that he saved a boy from a human torture factory, got me out of there safely, and is the only reason your son has even the hint of a clinical solution to his mortal wound. So back the fuck off, Sergeant Know-It-All.”

Annnnnnd now they were in Darius’s formal parlor waiting for Wrath.

As Sarah went over and inspected the floor-to-ceiling portrait of that French king, Murhder hung back and had to smile to himself.

There were not a lot of grown males who would get up into the face of Tohrment, son of Hharm. Especially when the Brother was armed and in a bad mood. Sarah, on the other hand, had been willing to risk great bodily harm to stand up for what she believed in.

Who she believed in.

Too bad the faith was so misplaced.

“This house is amazing.” She pivoted on one foot. “And who would have guessed? I mean, that vampires are in a neighborhood like this. You know, I expected the King to live in a big castle up on a mountain, with gargoyles on the roof and a moat. Instead, this is something out of Town and Country magazine.”

How am I going to let you go, he wondered.

Sarah walked over to him and took his hands. “Okay, sphinx. You need to talk to me before we go in and see the big guy. Let’s just lay it all out on the table. I can tell you’re uncomfortable here and around those males—”

“It’s not about them. I don’t care about them anymore.”

“Anymore?”

“They were my Brothers. All of them. But that was a long time ago. A forever ago.”

She frowned. “Family doesn’t stop. There is no past tense to family, Murhder.”

Murhder just shook his head. He didn’t have the energy to argue the point or explain himself. Instead, he was oh, so very aware that time was passing fast and this mission to see the king, which he had started out on with such purpose, was devolving into a rock-solid hell-no that he was going to be unable to counter.

“I need you to know something,” he whispered as he stared down into her golden eyes. “Even if you can only know it for now and a little bit longer.”

“What?” she breathed.

“I love you.” He brushed the smooth skin of her cheek. “I’ve fallen in love with you, and I just … some things need to be said, even if they’re wrong.”

“But it’s not wrong.” She turned her head and kissed his palm. “It’s not wrong between you and me. None of this is wrong …”

Her eyes, as she looked up at him, made him wish he still believed in a higher power. Life had taught him otherwise, however, and there was no un-learning the lesson that destiny was a douchebag and loss was more likely than gain.

He placed her hand over his heart. “I am yours. And that is forever, even if your memories of me are not.”

“I refuse to believe you can take all this from me.” She shook her head. “How can you reach so deep into my mind, into me? You are permanent in my life. In me. And I love you, too.”

They met halfway, her rising up onto her toes, him lowering himself down. And as their lips met and melded, the kiss was a kind of vow, a promise of ever after that would ultimately not be kept by her, and always kept by him.

Murhder wouldn’t have had it any other way.

He would rather bear the pain of all that could have been for the rest of his nights than have her suffer even a day of that burden of grief.

Besides, he told himself that even though their love would be one-sided, better that than never-have-been.

The paneled doors slid open. Tohrment looked grim, but then again, the Brother had never been a party.

“Wrath will see you now.”

Okay, wow, Sarah thought as she was led into a vast, empty room that had a chandelier the size of an SUV hanging from the ceiling and a rug like a park lawn in the center. Not that she spent a lot of time checking either of those two out. Nope, pretty much the only thing she saw was the massive male sitting beside a crackling fire. Now that was what she’d expect the king of the vampires to look like. The male had long, straight black hair falling from a widow’s peak, black wraparound sunglasses, black leathers and a muscle shirt, and a face that was cruel and handsome by turns. Tattoos ran down the insides of both his huge forearms and a large black stone glinted on one of his fingers.

The golden retriever who was curled up at his feet was a little surprising, and sure, that armchair he was parked in wasn’t exactly a George R. R. Martin–worthy throne, but the impression he made was so overwhelming, you could have put him in a Finding Dory kiddie pool and he’d still have looked like a badass.

Oh, and the males lined up around him were no slouches, either, and she recognized the handsome blond one from her arrival at the training center. Next to him was another male with a goatee and tattoos on his temple, a stocky one in clothes that were straight out of GQ, and a third with mismatched eyes, purple hair, and a lot of piercings.

No one was smiling. No, wait, the blond guy with the electric-blue eyes gave her a little wave.

“So this is your human,” the King said in a deep voice. “What’s your name, woman?”

Sarah cleared her throat. “Dr. Watkins. Sarah Watkins.”