A diminutive figure in black robes had appeared in the corner out of nowhere. The Scribe Virgin.

Butch's heart jackhammered. He'd seen her only once before, at Wrath and Beth's mating ceremony, and she was now as she had been then: a presence to respect and fear, power incarnate, a force of nature.

Then he realized what she'd asked. 'I would, yes… Marissa?'

Marissa's hands went down as if she were about to pick up the skirting of a gown she wasn't wearing. Then she dropped her arms awkwardly, but still curtsied low and with grace. As she held the pose, she said, 'If it would not offend, we would be honored beyond measure to be joined by Your Holiness.'

The Scribe Virgin came forward, her deep chuckle filling the room. As she laid her glowing hand on Marissa's bowed head, she said, 'Such manners, child. Your line has always had such perfect manners. Now come to your height and lift thine eyes unto me.' Marissa came out of the curtsy and looked up. As she did, Butch could have sworn the Scribe Virgin sighed a little. 'Beautiful. Just beautiful. You are so exquisitely formed.'

Then the Scribe Virgin looked at Butch. Though there was an opaque black veil over her face, the impact of her stare made his skin tingle all over in warning. Like he was standing in the path of an impending lightning strike.

'What is your father's name, human?'

'Eddie. Edward. O'Neal. But if you don't mind, I'd rather not bring him into this, okay?'

Everyone in the room stiffened and V muttered, 'Take it easy with the inquiry, cop. Really easy.'

'And why is that, human?' the Scribe Virgin asked. The word human was pronounced like the phrase piece of shit.

Butch shrugged. 'He's nothing to me.'

'Are humans always so dismissive of their lines?'

'My father and I have nothing to do with each other, that's all.'

'Therefore blood ties mean little to you, yes?'

No, Butch thought, glancing over at Wrath. Blood ties were everything.

Butch looked back at the Scribe Virgin. 'Do you have any idea how relieved—'

As Marissa gasped, V stepped in and slapped his gloved hand over Butch's mouth, yanking him backward by the head and hissing in his ear, 'Do you want to get toasted here, buddy? No questions—'

'Ease from him, warrior,' the Scribe Virgin snapped. 'This I wish to hear.'

V's grip slid off his face. 'Watch it.'

'Sorry about the question thing,' Butch said to the black robes. 'But I just… I'm glad I know what's in my veins. And honestly, if I die today, I'm grateful I finally know what I am.' He took Marissa's hand. 'And who I love. If this is where my life took me after all those years of being lost, I'd say my time here wasn't wasted.'

There was a long silence. Then the Scribe Virgin said, 'Do you regret that you leave behind your human family?'

'Nope. This is my family. Here with me now and elsewhere in the compound. Why would I need anything else?' The cursing in the room told him he'd thrown another question out there. 'Yeah… ah, sorry—'

A soft feminine laugh came from under the robes. 'You are rather fearless, human.'

'Or you could call it stupid.' As Wrath's mouth fell open, Butch rubbed his face. 'You know, I'm trying here. I really am. You know, to be respectful.'

'Your hand, human.'

He offered her his left, the one that was free.

'Palm up,' Wrath barked.

He flipped his hand over.

'Tell me, human,' the Scribe Virgin said, 'if I asked for the one you hold this female with, would you offer it to me?'

'Yeah. I'd just reach over to her with the other guy.' As that little laugh came again, he said, 'You know, you sound like birds when you do that chuckle thing. It's nice.'

Over to the left, Vishous put his head in his hands.

There was a long silence.

Butch took a deep breath. 'Guess I'm not allowed to say that.'

The Scribe Virgin reached up and slowly lifted the robes from her face.

Jesus… Christ… Butch squeezed Marissa's hand hard at what was revealed.

'You're an angel,' he whispered.

Perfect lips lifted in a smile. 'No. I am Myself.'

'You're beautiful.'

'I know.' Her voice became authoritative again. 'Your right palm, Butch O'Neal, descended of Wrath son of Wrath.'

Butch let go of Marissa, regripped her with his left hand, and reached forward. When the Scribe Virgin touched him, he flinched. Though his bones weren't crushed, the awesome strength in her was merely shelved potential. She could grind him to powder on a whim.

The Scribe Virgin turned to Marissa. 'Child, give me yours now.'

The instant that connection was made, a warm current flooded Butch's body. At first he assumed it was because the heating system in the room was really cooking, but then he realized the rush was under his skin.

'Ah, yes. This is a very good mating,' the Scribe Virgin pronounced. 'And you have my permission to join for however long you have together.' She dropped their hands and looked at Wrath. 'The presentation to me is complete. If he lives, you shall finish the ceremony as soon as he is well enough.'

The king bowed his head. 'So be it.'

The Scribe Virgin turned back to Butch. 'Now, we shall see how strong you are.'

'Wait,' Butch said, thinking about the glymera. 'Marissa's mated now, right? I mean, even if I die, she will have had a mate, right?'

'Death wish,' V said under his breath. 'Fucking Death Wish Boy we got over here.'

The Scribe Virgin seemed flat-out amazed. 'I should kill you now.'

'I'm sorry, but this matters. I don't want her falling under that whole sehclusion thing. I want her to be my widow so she doesn't have to worry about anyone else leading her life.'

'Human, you are astoundingly arrogant,' the Scribe Virgin snapped. But then she smiled. 'And totally unrepentant, aren't you.'

'I don't mean to be rude, I swear. I just need to know she's taken care of.'

'Have you had use of her body? Have you taken her as a male does?'

'Yeah.' As Marissa turned bright pink, Butch tucked her face into his shoulder. 'And it was… you know, with love.'

As he whispered something soothing to Marissa, the Scribe Virgin seemed touched, her voice turning almost kind. 'Then she shall be as you say, your widow, and not fall under any provisions affecting unmated females.'

Butch sighed in relief and stroked Marissa's back. 'Thank God.'

'You know, human, if you learned some manners, you would fare well with me.'

'If I promise to work at it, will you help me live through what's coming?'

The Scribe Virgin's head fell back as she laughed in a loud burst. 'No, I will not help you. But I find myself wishing you very well, human. Very well indeed.' Abruptly, she glared at Wrath, who was smiling and shaking his head. 'Do not assume such leeway with etiquette applies to others who seek me out.'

Wrath ditched the grin. 'I am well aware of what is proper, as are my brothers.'

'Good.' The robes shifted back into place, lifting up and going over her head without the help of hands. Just before her face was covered, she said, 'You will wish to bring the queen to this room before you commence.'

And then the Scribe Virgin disappeared.

Vishous whistled between his teeth and wiped his brow with his forearm. 'Butch, man, you are so lucky she liked you, true?'

Wrath flipped open his cell phone and started dialing. 'Shit, I thought we were going to lose you before we even started—Beth? Hey, my leelan, could you come to the gym?'

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