Zul showed no outward reaction, but commented, “Surely, it is too soon after your last deployment?” He paused, then asked, although he suspected otherwise, “Is Uribern under threat again so soon?”
Bran leaned forward, his mouth twisted in a sour expression. “The Council Supreme attempts to rid itself of us so they can give our mate to another warrior triad.” His golden eyes narrowed. “They will fail.”
Gil’s answer confirmed their governing leaders’ perfidy. “No. But we must go nonetheless.”
“However, after the attack on our mate, we cannot leave her unguarded,” Bran added. “The castrati are loyal and brave, but they are not warriors.”
Zul agreed and suspected the upcoming request. “No, she should not be left unguarded. Nor should the Prima be permitted to wander about.”
Bran grinned, showing his teeth. Zul bared his teeth in reaction.
Bran, please do not threaten him,Gil reminded his Prime. Bran closed his lips and hid his sharp, pointed teeth. Aloud the silver-horned Second said, “A mated male will do anything for his mate’s happiness.”
“Foolishness,” Zul declared. He shook his head then beat them to the punch. “If you are going to offer me employment as her guard, I must decline.”
“We wish to offer you more than that,” Bran said, leaning back in the chair.
Zul held himself still. Hope ignited deep within his body. The words necessary for confirmation came slowly: “What do you mean?”
“Ursula, our lovely mate, needs and desires a bonded triad,” Bran said slowly, each word measured and precise. “She’ll not conceive again without a triad.”
Gil nodded. “You have shown yourself an honorable and skilled warrior, and we know our mate appeals to you.”
Zul said nothing, but that flicker of hope grew stronger.
“And you appeal to her,” Bran added. He leaned forward again, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Our instincts and hers do not lead us wrong. You are well-suited to become the new Third of our triad.”
That tongue of flame, that hope, erupted into a full-scale blaze. The Fangrys Prime and Second offered him what he’d lost decades ago: a home and bonded brotherhood. They also offered him what he’d never had: a mate. They offered him everything he desired, if only…
“I willnotsubmit,” Zul said, his expression hardening. “I submit tono one.”
Gil leaned forward, his posture mimicking his Prime’s. “We offer you everything an unbonded warrior wants.” He glanced at Bran. “You will not find a better prime than Brannal cen’Vyr.”
Zul pressed his lips together and swallowed the words that threatened to spew forth. Gilvane cen’Vyr was far too insightful for comfort. The Second continued speaking. “We know some primes are harsh with their berserkers, chaining them as though they were unthinking beasts. Bran is no tyrant.” Gil paused.Not usually.
Since when am I a tyrant?
Since you decided to wage war upon the Council Supreme and did not discuss it with me first.
I feel your agreement: the Council needs to be replaced.
They do, but it would have been nice to have been consulted for my opinion and agreement first.
Bran pressed his lips together.If you object to revolution, tell me now.
Zul scrutinized their closed expressions as the two communicated directly mind to mind. He wondered what they debated even as he privately acknowledged that he missed such closeness. He missed the deep bond of a triad brotherhood even if he did not necessarily miss his deceased prime.
I agree that revolution is necessary, but I also think we should comply with deployment,Gil replied after a moment, addressing Bran’s intention to disobey the Council’s orders.We will be more effective recruiting support from among our fellow warriors if we are with them than if we act without them.
Then we will add mutiny to our transgressions,Bran agreed. He refocused his gaze on Zul who watched them with the wariness of a seasoned predator. “A berserker who cannot be controlled is a danger to himself and innocents.”
“I’ve managed to control myself for quite some time,” Zul replied, his tone stiff with hauteur and his expression icy with obdurate pride. “I will not submit.”
“You will notwillinglysubmit,” Gil corrected. He leaned back in the chair and rubbed his chin. “What if Bran engages you in combat and wins? Will you then submit to him?”
Zul bared his fangs. “Only my former prime was ever able to subdue me.” His gaze ran over the golden warrior’s tall, muscular form and knew himself to be stronger and heavier. “You won’t succeed.”
Bran responded with his own bared teeth. “Then let’s put it to the test, shall we?”
