He doesn’t back down, not so much as a blink. He’s strong. One of the only ones not afraid to face me. It’s one of the reasons he’s my VP.
“You’re too invested,” he starts.
I shift, already feeling my anger rise. “Invested how, when I’ve not been here in days? I come back to find her starving. Near fucking death.”
“She wasn’t near death. Mortals can survive weeks without food,” Talon adds.
He has my attention now. “Really? And after weeks with no food, are they okay?” I ask, arching a brow. I know the answer. I don’t need medical knowledge to know that.
“No. Not always,” he answers through gritted teeth.
“Our laws, our rule… We swore no women and children,” I remind them, repeating our own law back at them. I take another pull of the cigarette.
“Unless they prove to be a threat to our club. Our coven,” Viktor points out.
Grunts of agreement echo around the table. I look at every one of them.
“And this is what you all believe? That she—that weak human who is currently eating soup in my bed—is a threat to us? To our coven?” I fume, leaning forward and stamping my index finger down firmly on the table. “More to the point, you think I would selfishly put you all in danger? I would sacrifice all of you for her?”
My anger rises to impossible heights. I fight the urge to bare my fangs, to challenge every one of them for even thinking it. The sheer disrespect.
To my surprise, Clutch speaks up. “For those of us who’ve been in love with a woman, and remember what that feels like…” He pauses. “Yeah, you most certainly would, Prez.”
I rise to my feet. “I swore, I vowed, that nothing would ever harm the coven, our club. For over six hundred years, I have fought, I have fucking killed, destroyed anything that dared to come close. You’re all worried about a feeble mortal when the real threat iswhoever made those markings. They are the threat. They could end all of us.” My attention snaps to Hex. “Tell them,” I roar. “Tell them exactly what we are up against.”
Hex’s jaw is set tight. He reaches behind him, pulls out his leather-clad journal, and slaps it down on the table. He flips it open and taps on an image.
“Hunters,” he says. “Not normal hunters. Not human. They are undead.”
“Pfft. We are the undead,” Clutch snorts arrogantly.
“Not like these. We can be destroyed. They cannot,” Hex says.
“Come on. Can we really believe that? No offence, brother, but you talk to your fucking bike,” Echo argues.
“He’s not wrong,” Viktor answers before Hex can. “That’s why we’ve been looking for answers. Other plausible answers.”
“We met with other covens,” I say. “Or what’s left of them.” I sigh. “They warned us not to fight, not to hunt these fucking things, but to run. To hide.” I meet each of my brothers’ eyes.
“We don’t run,” Marko grinds out.
“I’ve heard of them before,” Shade interrupts, his gaze fixed on a dentin the table.
“Anathema,” a deep voice states.
I look to the door to see Cain. A nomad. I feel the others shift in fear and uncertainty. His large, broad frame fills the doorway, his dark red eyes glimmering with ancient horrors.
He is tied to no club, no coven. His presence can only mean one thing.
Fucking Armageddon.
CHAPTER TEN
LUCIAN
Cain dropshis large bag on the ground by his feet, his red eyes taking in every one of my brothers as I go to him.
“I’d smile while I greet you,” I say, “but your presence can only mean that hell is upon us. Or it’s soon to be.”
