Lover Reborn by J. R. Ward Page A

really wasn’t someone you wanted as an enemy, and not just because, like Wrath, he was the leader of his people: His day job was being king of the
symphath
colony up north. Nights he spent here with his
shellan
, Ehlena, living
la vida
vampire. And never the twain shall meet.
    It went without saying that he was a highly valuable asset to the Brotherhood.
    “A number of days ago, a letter was sent out to every head of the remaining bloodlines.” He reached into the mink and took out a folded sheet of what looked to be old-fashioned parchment. “Snail mail. Handwritten. In the Old Language. Mine took a while to reach me because it went to the Great Camp up north first. No, I have no idea how they got the address, and yes, I have confirmed that everybody got one.”
    Balancing his cane against the delicate sofa he’d been sitting on, he opened the parchment with his fingertips, like he didn’t enjoy the feel of the thing. Then in a low, deep voice, he read each sentence in the ancient language it had been composed in.
    My old, dear friend,
I am writing to advise you of my arrival in the city of Caldwell with my soldiers. Although we have long tallied in the Old Country, the dire events of the previous few years in this jurisdiction have made it impossible for us to remain, in all good conscience, where we have previously established our domicile.
As you perhaps have heard from relations overseas, our strong efforts have eradicated the Lessening Society in the motherlands, making it safe for our fair race to flourish in peace and security there. Clearly, it is time I bring this stout arm of protection to bear on this side of the ocean—the race here in these parts has sustained untenable losses, ones that mayhap could have been avoided if we had been here sooner.
I ask for nothing in return for our service to the race, although I would appreciate the opportunity to meet with you and the Council—if only to express my sincerest condolences at all you have borne since the raids. It is a shame that things have come to this—the commentary is sad upon certain segments of our society.
    With kindest regard,

Xcor
    When Rehv was done, he folded the paper up and disappeared it. No one said a thing.
    “That was my reaction, too,” he muttered dryly.
    This opened the floodgates, everybody talking at once, the curses flowing rich and heavy.
    Wrath made a fist and banged on his desk until the lamp jumped, and George went into hiding under his master’s throne. When order was finally restored, it was like a stallion brought under control with a bit; a tenuous respite, more like a pause in the bucking and rearing than a true settle-down.
    “I understand the bastard was out last night,” Wrath said.
    Tohrment spoke up. “We engaged with Xcor, yes.”
    “So this is not a fake.”
    “No, but it was written by someone else. He’s illiterate—”
    “I’ll teach the fucker to read,” V muttered. “By cramming the Library of Congress up his ass.”
    As grunts of approval threatened to turn into more outbursts, Wrath pounded on his desk again. “What do we know about his crew?”
    Tohr shrugged. “Assuming he’s kept the same ones on, they’re a total of five. Three cousins. That porn star Zypher—”
    Rhage harrumphed at that. Clearly, even though he was now very happily mated, he felt like the race had one, and only one, sex legend—and it was him.
    “And Throe was with him in that alley,” Tohr smoothed over. “Look, I’m not going to lie—it’s clear that Xcor’s making a play against…”
    When he didn’t finish the statement, Wrath nodded. “Me.”
    “Which would mean us—”
    “Us—”
    “Us—”
    More voices than you could count uttered that one word, the single syllable coming from every corner of the room, every seat cushion, every flat plane of wall someone was up against. And that was the thing. Unlike Wrath’s father, this king had been a fighter and a Brother first—so the bonds that had