Destined (Darkin World Book 2)

Chapter Twenty-One

Breqlynn rose from the high-top table, her meal only partially consumed. Walking to the window, she stopped to gaze at the landscape passing below. She and Brice were the only passengers on the private airship that Keys had borrowed. Sin Bae and Jonathan came over on the dirigible shortly after Kala had whisked Jaeger away. Aeddon, Julian and Keys stayed behind with Amanda, in case there was an uprising closer to home. The loyal shifters had been welcome allies as Breq tried to bring order to the council's headquarters.

An issue the Kingsmen, free Firsts and Breqlynn had collectively agreed on was that Romania was no longer the best place for their headquarters. For one thing, it was too far removed from where Wolfrick was. For another, the king's council needed an eye kept on them if the failed uprising were any indication.

As Breq dealt with the treasonous assholes on the council, Jaeger lay healing in his bed, still unconscious. Whatever he'd done to exorcise the vamp from Zehra had sapped all his strength. Aeddon continuously assured her that Wolfrick would recover, given enough time. Her cousin had been right, as usual. Not that she'd ever admit it aloud.

It'd been three days since Breqlynn rescued Wolfrick; three days since she'd asked Keilynn to move her things back to her house. The hard reality of Breq's current situation hit her once her post-fight adrenaline faded, and she had time to think. Questions and doubts plagued her. She loved Wolfrick, but with the bond now nearly severed and no longer able to influence his emotions, would he feel the same about her? Would he still want her as his mate? Had her worst fear, the one that'd reared its ugly head when Jaeger had admitted that it wasn't only his beast who wanted her as its mate, come true?

The Firsts on the council now saw Breq as such. Gideon had seen to their acceptance in recognizing her as their king's mate by addressing her as "queen." He'd done it in front of the eleven Firsts not residing in the dungeon. They'd been reluctant to view her as someone with power over them at first. So, Brice and Wolfrick's Second saw to it the remaining council members learned all that happened; what she'd done to liberate their king from those who'd been led astray by a vampire. It was something - the pair were sure to point out - the Firsts had failed to do themselves. With the help of humans and loners, their king's mate had succeeded in saving Jaeger.

The men downplayed their roles in the rescue and instead made Breqlynn out to be some badass alpha, worthy of the shifter council's respect. As a result, the free members reluctantly agreed that she was strong enough to lead them, alpha enough to take Wolfrick's place in the interim. All of this served to make her the de facto leader of the shifters, and she'd had done her best.

Then, the big-mouthed Brice spilled the beans about Breqlynn's pregnancy. That sealed the deal. The mates of the Firsts, many of whom were not yet blessed with children of their own, took her under their collective wings. She'd been given clothes to replace her battle-worn "uniform," pampered with food and goodies. The women treated her as if she really were royalty to the point Breq had murderous intentions toward the North American First with his big mouth.

Raising her hand, Breqlynn plucked at the sleeve of a new, dark blue, designer blouse.

"I miss the other shirt." Brice came up behind Breq and handed her a glass of orange juice. They'd both been sleeping in their own, luxurious cabins. When they hit the east coast, she'd awakened, puttered about in her room and then come out to order a meal from the steward. It looked as if Brice had just woken. Even though his clothes were freshly ironed by one of the stewards and his blond hair under the ever-present white, cowboy hat looked combed, his eyes held a sleepy quality.

A short huff of breath escaped Breqlynn. The mates of the council Firsts were horrified when they saw her tee and argued that it was too damaged by tears and scorch marks to be salvaged. They'd thrown it away. She still felt pouty about it as that shirt had been one-of-a-kind.