Chapter Three
The erection that Thrasher had been fighting since he’d spotted the infuriating Kaspyn seated at the table had only strengthened the instant she retaliated with the death grip on his palm.
He held onto her hand for a moment longer before releasing it with a quick, tight squeeze.
She didn’t flinch, but his erection did.
Damn her, he silently cursed, returning to his seat to find Rykaur smirking next to him.
Pyre and Zyen stepped into the room and skirted the table without a word.
Thrasher immediately noticed two things at once: Zyen’s arrogant gaze narrowed in Thrasher’s direction; and the big, blond warrior practically shoved his way past Pyre to sit next to Kaspyn.
Leaning back in his seat, Thrasher replaced the Ray-Bans over his eyes and studied Zyen from behind the mirrored lenses.
Thrasher had learned to keep his feelings hidden at an early age. Whether behind a mask of indifference or a pair of sunshades. He’d found the best way to gauge others’ emotions or intensions was to hide his own. The only person who’d been able to see beyond the wall he’d erected in his young life had been his mother, June; God rest her soul.
“Zyen, Pyre,” the king acknowledged before addressing the table’s occupants once more. “I have communicated with President Pratt about the situation with Rueben Howell. Pratt has informed me that he cannot send troops into Cuba to retrieve Howell. In fact, he has been warned by the Cuban President, Ramone Mendoza, to stay out of Cuban waters all together.”
Thrasher abandoned his staring contest with Zyen and shifted his gaze to the king. “Mendoza is leery of Pratt’s involvement with the Bracadytes.”
Klause nodded. “He is. Which means that the warriors going after Howell will need to remain hidden while in Cuba. Oz will see to it that lodging is made available to all who make the journey.”
“When do we leave?” Tony asked from his seat at the other end of the table.
The king studied Vaughn for several heartbeats. “I do not think it wise for you to go, mate of my daughter. You have a son to protect, as does Hauke and Vaulcron.”
Tony remained quiet for a moment before responding. “And if that piece of shit Howell isn’t destroyed soon, we will never be free to live in peace. There are no two individuals more qualified to take him out than Thrasher and myself. Not that the Bracadytes aren’t strong and capable, but they won’t blend in. We can,” he finished, jerking his chin in Thrasher’s direction.
Vaughn then flicked his gaze toward Brant. “Are you going or staying?”
“Going,” Brant answered immediately.
Klause ran a hand down his face. “Naura will not be happy about your decision to leave, Anthony Vaughn. But you are correct. The three of you will have a better chance at blending in, as you say. I would like for you and Thrasher to take the lead on this mission.”
Murmurs of disagreement echoed throughout the room, but quickly dissipated with a stern look from Klause.
“Now that it’s settled, who all will be going to Cuba?” The question came from Brant.
The king’s gaze touched on everyone in the room, save for Gryke who stood behind him as he always did. “Thrasher, Kaspyn, Zyen, Pyre, Vaughn, Brant, Gryke, and Rykaur will go.”
Klause went on to explain, “Braum has a daughter on the way. Vaulcron is next in line to the throne and has a young son as well. Hauke should stay to protect Arcanum and Abbie since their lives remain in constant danger. Fiona has a son as well. I feel that since Brant and Gryke are going, someone should be here for the boy, someone he knows as family. And Zaureth will stay behind to aid in protecting Aukrabah.”
“When do we leave?” Thrasher inquired, attempting to block out the emotions slamming into him from the warriors in the room.
The king took a deep breath, a solemn look on his face. “Before sunrise on the morrow. Though it was not made official, Pratt has agreed to have transportation procured for those who cannot make the swim. A man will be waiting at Aukrabah’s entrance to take you to a boat tied off in the Destin harbor. You are all dismissed.”
Thrasher nodded and rose to his feet. “We should all get some rest and then meet in the training room at sundown to make plans.”
Everyone else followed his lead, standing and exiting the great hall one by one.
“May I have a word with you?” Kaspyn lightly touched Thrasher on the arm on her way out.
Thrasher’s stomach clenched from the brief contact. What was it about the Arkadian princess that had such an effect on him? She was beautiful, sure, but lots of women were beautiful. Yet, her damned tongue… ah, that tongue could cut a man to the bone with one word. Spoiled, prissy ass princess.
“My apartment,” Thrasher barked, storming past her. “And hurry, we have shit to do.”
Kaspyn quickly caught up with him. “What is shit?”
Her question caught Thrasher off guard. He cut a quick glance in her direction, noticing the sincerity in her eyes, and he almost laughed. Almost. “It means things. We have things to do.”
“Oh, I see. Then I have some shit to discuss with you before we do anything.”
Thrasher’s lips twitched.