Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Nodding at several soldiers limping toward the medical facility, he noted their grim but relieved expressions. Word must already be spreading that they had a cure. At least that was one thing off his plate. It was too bad Laker had died. Vero would like to know if he’d had help creating the poison. He stomped through the snow, irritation and worry churning together in his chest. Where was his brother? Paxton should’ve been under guard but was no doubt front and center in the chaos somewhere. Vero had no idea how he was going to train the male to be king. He understood Paxton’s reluctance, though.
Soldiering seemed to live in their blood.
He reached the main lodge and ducked inside, shaking off the snow. The warmth was almost a shock after the relentless cold outside. He looked around, noting that all the females had already cleared out. Word had definitely spread fast. Grunting, he caught faint noises coming from the lone conference room.
Detouring to the treat-laden counter on the side wall, he poured himself a cup of coffee, the scent grounding him slightly. With his steaming mug in hand, he maneuvered through the space, stepping carefully over several sleeping bags strewn toward the back. Reaching the conference room, he paused, expecting to find his brother. Instead, he stopped short, his coffee halfway to his mouth.
“What the fuck?” he muttered.
Paxton sat at the table with General Waxton, the leader of the forty Cysts, of all people. Vero’s first instinct was to reach for the weapon holstered at the back of his waist.
“Relax,” came a voice from behind him. He whirled, finding Collin and Liam strolling toward him from the kitchen, both munching on pastries. Relief filtered through him, but his instincts remained sharp. Turning back to the room, he stepped inside, already calculating the best way to position himself between Paxton and the general.
Waxton, towering at over seven feet tall with broad shoulders and muscled arms, was impossible to miss. He stood, the white strip of hair thick on his head and trailing down to a long braid. His amethyst eyes were calm, his voice booming as he greeted, “Vero, good to see you.”
Vero crossed the room and shook the general’s hand, his expression neutral. “You as well.” His tone remained automatic as his attention cut to his brother.
Paxton grinned, entirely too relaxed. “Turns out kings use diplomacy. Who knew?”
“Diplomacy?” Vero echoed, lowering himself into a chair while keeping his body angled slightly, ready to move if necessary. “Do you mind explaining that to me, King?”
Paxton gestured to the file folder in front of him. “Take a load off. Looks like you’ve been through a war.”
“I’m fine,” Vero replied curtly, flipping open the folder. Inside was a neatly typed contract, the precision catching his attention. He glanced up, his brows lifting. “You tried diplomacy?”
Paxton leaned back, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Figured what the hell. Couldn’t be out there fighting, so I took a page from the King of the Realm. We met off-site and the king acted as mediator. It was quite civilized. Then we started drinking bourbon, the good stuff, and we came up with some interesting ideas.”
The general nodded. “We’re prepared to return to the fold as spiritual leaders and soldiers. In exchange, we’d like to be fully integrated into the Kurjan nation. No more separation between Cyst members and Kurjan members.”
“I’d like that,” Vero said instantly. “The more integrated we are, the stronger we are.”
“Exactly,” Waxton said, his voice firm as he planted a massive hand on the table. “I’d also like to determine if the Sunshine Cure works for us.”
Vero studied the leader. “Most of the Cyst have refused to try the cure, believing it to be unnatural.”
The general shrugged. “Which is why I’m now the leader—at least of these forty. We want to join the modern times and venture into the sun. We want to work with you, Vero. As equals.” He smiled, revealing dangerous canines. “I even agreed to perform marriages. The human kind.”
Vero arched a brow and looked at his brother.
Paxton cleared his throat. “Hope was involved in some of the negotiations. Apparently, females like weddings, so we figured, why not?”
The general chuckled, a surprising sound coming from someone so stoic. “Believe it or not, I’m quite the romantic.”
Vero had never known that about Waxton, but he couldn’t deny the male would serve as a good choice to lead. “Do you believe you can draw more Cyst into the nation?”
Waxton nodded. “Yes. If we show a year of prosperity, the others will likely return. We could become quite prosperous when at peace.” His gaze burned with conviction.
Peace. It was all Vero had ever wanted. He glanced at Paxton. “So…diplomacy, huh?”
Paxton grinned, reaching for another donut. “Yeah. Apparently, we still need to perform the Convexus ritual at midnight. Just the four of us: you, me, Waxton, and his second, Erford. We each say our parts, do a quick handshake vow in blood, sign the contract again, and it’s done.”