Chapter 18

W ith a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, Grant teleported to Roman's apartment, and the door opened before he could knock.

Roman kissed him softly. "Hey."

"Were you creepily waiting at the door until I arrived?"

"No," Roman replied with a roll of his eyes as he stepped out of the way so Grant could enter the condo. "You texted me telling me you were on your way. So, I walked to the door and there you were. Teleportations are usually quick."

"Are they ever not fast?"

"I don't think so, why?"

"You said usually , so I wondered if there had been an instance where teleportations actually took longer than a couple of seconds."

"I need to learn to be more literal with you," Roman said, his mouth quirking into a smile. "You like to question everything. It's a beautiful facet of your personality, but also slightly annoying."

Unperturbed by Roman's criticism, Grant shrugged. "Thanks for your input. I'll be sure to let you know when you're annoying too."

"I'm sure you will."

"Tell me why we couldn't teleport directly to D'Vaire."

"Easy. The entire estate and the neighboring ones are protected by a magical dome created by some of the most powerful sorcerers alive. Before anyone can make their first visit, they need to be brought there by the Grand Warlock. Dra'Kaedan's was the first layer of the dome, and he controls who comes and goes."

"Hmm, what happens if he doesn't like me and refuses to let me visit?"

Roman caressed Grant's chin and brushed their lips together. "I can't imagine anyone disliking you."

"Tell that to the fallen knight who dared to send me a case without using the checklist provided by the Master Juris Knights. It had big gaps where necessary information was missing. Oh, and he didn't even send it to a Juris Knight. Thought he'd skip right over that part too by providing his own idea of what the sentence should be. For some reason, he thought he could get the new guy to sign off on it. Fool must've thought I paid zero attention in training and had no working brain cells."

"He deserved the dressing down I'm sure you gave him," Roman replied with a chuckle.

"Yep, his face was as red as a tomato, and he cried a little. I still recommended he face the RKs and explain to them why he shouldn't lose a rank for such a complete disregard of procedures."

Grant hadn't appreciated being treated as if he were inferior to the other Venerable Knights, so he didn't think his reaction had been unwarranted. Procedures existed to keep order, and they needed a system. After all, they dealt with crimes across North America, and they were always swimming in case files.

Grant had learned that in some quarters, there remained resistance to treating Juris Knights with respect, but he refused to tolerate it in his presence. Juris Knights were the judicial branch of their race—men and women who had scored so high on tests that they dealt directly with assigning punishments instead of carrying weapons and hunting criminals.

"I would've done the same," Roman said. He glanced at his phone, then there was a knock on the door. "The D'Vaires are here."

Grant sucked in a deep breath as Roman left to answer the door. Nerves jumped in his belly, and it reminded him of his first morning as a Venerable Knight. It was imperative to Grant that the D'Vaires liked him. They were Roman's family. If something was important to Roman, it was equally significant to Grant.

A man with a plethora of golden curls stepped into the room wearing jeans and a dark T-shirt. He was at most a couple of inches over five feet with his shoes on, and mischief danced in his navy eyes. The second guest stood more than a foot taller than the first, and his gaze was the same shade of deep blue. He had brown hair a few shades lighter than Grant's and was dressed casually in denim and cotton.

"Venerable Knight Grant Valerius, this is Grand Warlock Dra'Kaedan D'Vaire and his other half, Grand Duke Brogan D'Vairedraconis," Roman stated formally.

Grant held out a trembling hand to the sorcerer. "Grand Warlock. Your Grace. It's a pleasure to meet you both."

"Nix the titles, dude, we're family," Dra'Kaedan insisted as he enthusiastically returned Grant's handshake. "And the pleasure is totally ours. Roman deserves to be happy, and he needs his mate to do that. Are you prepared to deal with him for eternity?"

"We met a week ago," Roman cut in. "Calm down."

"We did meet a week ago, but yes, Dra'Kaedan, I'm prepared to deal with Roman for eternity," Grant stated firmly.

"Oh, good, I like you," Dra'Kaedan said. "Are we ready to go?"

"In a second. We need to warn him," Brogan insisted.

Dra'Kaedan waved a careless hand in the air. "Oh yeah. You're a fallen knight, so you've been resurrected to deal with anything. You can handle the D'Vaires. But fair warning, we are nuts. But it's a good crazy, I promise."

"I expect you to live up to that. If I get to your house and everyone acts normal, we're going to have words," Grant warned.

Dra'Kaedan cackled. "You're awesomesauce, Grant. Get ready to have a flurry of names thrown at you. Keep Roman close in case you forget someone."

"I'll take your advice, but I was planning on keeping Roman close anyway."

"Good man. Let's roll, people. Close your eyes."

The ground disappeared beneath Grant's feet the second his lashes fell, and a few moments later he was standing outside an enormous mansion made of wood with oversized windows. Brogan opened one of the double doors and ushered Grant and Roman inside. Dra'Kaedan led them down a short hallway which opened on the left to a gorgeous great room.

A stone fireplace stretched a full two stories and anchored the space, which was littered with oversized couches in a neutral grayish beige. Throw pillows were everywhere in a broad smattering of colors that somehow blended harmoniously with each other and the area rug covering much of the wooden floors.

"Wow, this place is incredible," Grant remarked.

"Thank you, we think so too," said a tall man with navy-and-black hair that brushed his shoulders.

"Don't talk before I introduce you, Lankenstein," Dra'Kaedan admonished. "Anywho, Grant, this is High King Aleksander D'Vairedraconis, and the gorgeous man at his side is his other half, High King Rafe. The wolves at their feet are Nox and Mortis."

Rafe of the dark curls smiled. "Nice to meet you, Grant."

"Same goes, thanks for inviting me to your house."

A swarm of men in gray uniforms charged into the room.

"Grant, good to see you again," the Arch Lich said, squeezing his way past a bunch of sentinels to hug Dra'Kaedan.

"Yes, always happy to officially add more fallen knights to the family," Alaric commented in a flat voice.

"Oh man, you're going to absolutely love this weekend," Dra'Kaedan predicted with a smirk.

"Don't spoil it until Conley and Drystan get here," Aleksander warned.

"We're here," Conley called out from behind the Darays.

"Good, I do not wish for suspense," Albrecht remarked. "What is the theme of our weekend?"

"You'll enjoy this, Albie," Dra'Kaedan insisted. "Go ahead, Conley."

Conley stuck out his tongue as he winked at Alaric. "This weekend we're celebrating our newest Venerable Knight with an entire weekend honoring fallen knights. Larissa has worked her ass off to create uniforms and other fun stuff for everyone to wear."

Chander laughed so hard he bent over.

"No complaining, Lich Sentinel," Victor warned. "Everyone happily wore sentinel uniforms for a weekend."

Alaric's expression was dour and—Grant couldn't lie—slightly intimidating. "Of course I will wear it. I am an honorable man. So, what events do we have to participate in? Standing out in the backyard shooting each other with stun guns?"

A pretty brunette with vivid orange, scaly eyes appeared at Grant's side and handed him a box. "I made you a special uniform patch and a couple of cool shirts with limes since we aren't going strictly regulation this weekend. I'm Larissa, by the way."

"Thank you so much. Nice to meet you."

"Roman, yours have popcorn on them," Larissa announced as she passed Grant's mate a second box.

"I might have to break the rules and wear a popcorn patch on my dress uniform to work on Monday," Roman teased as he hugged Larissa.

"What kind of snack appears on mine?" Alaric asked blandly.

"Actually, I put a winged skull with glasses on yours," Larissa explained. "I know Chand doesn't wear glasses anymore, but you said you missed him in them, so I made the executive decision to include them. I gave you a set of small wings that match your real ones, Chand. They're sewn on the back of your jacket."

Conley's gilded gaze grew wide. "Does that mean I have gold ones on mine?"

"Yep, I wasn't sure what to do about yours, Drystan, since I didn't want them to blend in with the black material of your jacket. Eventually, I went with a sparkly thread even though your wings are matte."

"I can't wait to see your bony wings, Sammy," Brynnius enthused.

It warmed Grant's heart the way Samson kissed Brynnius's little smile. Not until that moment did it occur to Grant that he'd be spending an entire weekend surrounded by loving couples. He promised himself he'd pay attention and try to pick up any tips or tricks that could aid his relationship.

"Oh, and Alaric, we thought we'd include plenty of dagger training since that has been incorporated into the regime of fallen knights," Drystan told the Lich Sentinel.

"I am, of course, amenable to sparring with anyone interested," Alaric replied, appearing at least somewhat mollified.

Chander rolled his eyes. "Ignore him. He'll be outside waving his daggers around the entire weekend and won't notice he's dressed in black instead of gray."

"My plan is to remind myself that black is also the color of necromancers and imps," Alaric replied. "Therefore, I am representing both sides of my mate…not just the Order of the Fallen Knights."

"But my mate is a sentinel," Baxter complained.

"You're a Daray. You have fallen knights in your family. Honor them," Chander retorted. "Plus, this is about Grant and the feat he accomplished becoming the fourth Venerable Knight."

"Wear black for every fallen knight that works hard each day to protect and defend the Council and has since 1369," Grant suggested. "How long have the sentinels been working for the Council again?"

"And this is why I don't like many fallen knights," Alaric said, smartly pivoting on one gray boot and snagging the box Larissa held out to him. He stalked off, presumably to change into black for the weekend.

"Ignore him," Chander stated. "He loves every Daray and D'Vaire, regardless of whether they are a sentinel or not. And despite his attitude, he respects the fallen knights. He's just a drama king."

"I'm telling him you said that," Baxter retorted.

"Yeah, I'm real scared," Chander fired back.

The sentinels traipsed after their leader, and Drystan flashed a grin. "So, the plan is to annoy Alaric by complimenting him on how good he looks in black all weekend?"

"Challenge accepted," Dra'Kaedan replied immediately.

Grant had no intention of getting into it with Alaric, so he decided to allow the others to tease the Lich Sentinel. "Thanks so much for putting this together, I never expected anyone to throw an entire weekend at least partly in my honor."

"It's our way of welcoming you to Roman's family," Aleksander said. "If there's anything we can do to make your stay with us more comfortable, don't hesitate to ask."

Reaching out to grab Roman's hand, Grant smiled at the High King. "I'm spending an entire weekend sharing a room with Roman, I couldn't possibly need anything else to make me comfortable, but I appreciate your hospitality."

Aleksander glanced at Roman and grinned. "Fate's been good to you."

"Yes, she has," Roman replied.

Grant's eyes met Roman's, and he stole a kiss. "I think of myself as the lucky one."

"The thing is, you can both be the lucky ones in a relationship," Chander said. "When Fate gets it right, it's two souls perfectly paired. There is no winner or loser."

"Says the man avoiding going to his bedroom right now to change into his fallen knight uniform because his mate is in it," Conley teased.

"No one bitches like a sentinel," Chander replied. "I'll go change once Alaric is done in there."

"You're delaying the inevitable," Dra'Kaedan insisted. "He'll bitch the second he's alone with you anyway. You're his best friend."

"I know that, but if I go in the room now, I have to listen to him bitch, and he'll still be complaining later as we get ready to go to bed for the night," Chander said. "We've had enough years together that I know exactly what he's going to do…probably even before he does."

"Sentinels are also predictable," Drystan remarked.

"Hmm," Chander commented, his pewter gaze darkening slightly and a small smile playing around his mouth. "I'd say they are predictable in certain aspects of their lives, and others, not so much."

"Okay, either you're going to tell us a salacious, sexy tale when Alaric surprised you or you can shut right up," Dra'Kaedan responded. "Don't tease me."

"Let's just say Alaric surprises me constantly."

"You're a horrible person," Dra'Kaedan retorted. "Be nice and give me some details."

"Go talk to Bax if you want to hear all about someone's sex life," Chander said.

"No thanks, I've heard more than enough from Bax through the years," Dra'Kaedan replied. "Since Chand's going to be a prick, let's get Roman and Grant settled. Our newest VK has a ton of people to meet."

"We'll go get changed and meet you back here?" Roman asked.

"Sure," Dra'Kaedan said. "Now, scoot."

With Roman's hand securely in his, Grant left the great room as Chander and Dra'Kaedan continued to bicker good naturedly about the Arch Lich's reluctance to share details about his sex life. Although Grant hadn't been at the D'Vaire mansion long, he was already impressed by their thoughtfulness and the easygoing vibe of the household. Grant's nerves settled a little, and his excitement for the weekend grew.