The King: A Novel of the Black Dagger Brotherhood
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
J.R. Ward's # 1 New York Times bestselling Black Dagger Brotherhood continues as a royal bloodline is compromised by a grave threat to the throne.
Long live the King…
After turning his back on the throne for centuries, Wrath, son of Wrath, finally assumed his father’s mantle--with the help of his beloved mate. But the crown sets heavily on his head. As the war with the Lessening Society rages on, and the threat from the Band of Bastards truly hits home, he is forced to make choices that put everything--and everyone--at risk.
Beth Randall thought she knew what she was getting into when she mated the last pure blooded vampire on the planet: An easy ride was not it. But when she decides she wants a child, she’s unprepared for Wrath’s response--or the distance it creates between them.
The question is, will true love win out... or tortured legacy take over?
From the Hardcover edition.
source and crossed her arms. “You’re scaring me.” Silence. “Why aren’t you sitting behind the desk,” she said roughly. “It’s not mine anymore.” Beth felt all the blood leave her head. “What are you … I’m sorry, what?” Wrath took off his sunglasses and braced an elbow on his knee as he rubbed his eyes. “The Council has removed me.” “What the … fuck. How? What did they do?” “It doesn’t matter. But they got me.” He laughed in a short burst. “Listen, at least now all that paperwork over there?
completely—if they were in salads, it wasn’t like she’d eat around them. But she had never in her life volunteered them out of the fridge. Standing over the sink, she cut one free, got out a peeler, and made a neat little pile of bright orange strips in the stainless-steel belly. Quick rinse. Cut in the middle. Slice length-wise twice. And voilà, crudités. Crunch. Munch. Swallow. They were so fresh, they cracked every time she took a bite out of them, and the sweet, earthy taste was better
other male caught hold of it. “What can I do for you?” Wrath heard himself say as they shook. “Nothing right now. Just let me take her.” “Okay. All right.” Except as Wrath let go and stepped back, he was not at peace with any of this. What other choice did he have, though? Shaking his head, he thought, see, this was precisely why he hadn’t want a young. This pregnancy shit was not for him. What the hell was he going to do if he lost her— “Wrath,” Beth said weakly. “Wrath, where’d you go?”
of Terms and Proper Nouns IN LOVING MEMORY OF JONAH, A.K.A. THE BOO, A.K.A. THE VERY BEST OF WRITERDOG. R.I.P. AND SEE YOU AGAIN AT THE END OF MY ROAD XXX AND W. GILLETTE BIRD, JR. PROLOGUE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY, OLD COUNTRY “Long live the King.” At the sound of the deep, grave voice, Wrath, son of Wrath, had an instinct to look around for his father … a spark of hope that the death had not occurred and the great ruler was as yet still with them. But of course, his beloved
driver in front of her. The rickety fence in the headlights was the kind of thing you’d see on a cattle farm—that had been deserted. Half of it was hanging at an angle, the old boards and rusted wire more tangle than organized form. “Where are we going?” she asked hoarsely. “I thought … back home.” “We’re getting you treated first.” Assail repeated that thing where he reached out a hand and then put it back down before touching her. “You need … you’re wounded and we can’t let your grandmother