Gregor shook his head, his expression turning profoundly unhappy. “I don’t know. He was a human. Ex-Special Forces. Exceptionally well-trained at what he did, he was almost like a phantom, except not immortal, so I’m surprised they discovered him.” The vampire turned to the chest, pulled out a stopper from one of the bottles, and poured himself a healthy dose of what Abel smelled was whiskey, doing this while talking. “He leaves behind a two-year-old son, a six-month-old daughter, and a wife he’s been with since high school.”

Abel’s throat closed.

Fuck.

Gregor lifted the bottle Abel’s way. When Abel shook his head, the vampire topped the bottle, grabbed his glass, and turned back to Abel. “He’s a great loss,” he said, sounding like he meant it, before he took a sip of whiskey.

“Your wraiths couldn’t save him?”

“If they did, they would have exposed early where their allegiance lay and would not have been able to surprise our enemy, which allowed us to defeat them soundly and deliver to them a number of casualties. I haven’t been able to tell you this, but none of them escaped. The wraiths dispatched them all.”

Finally, good news.

“Right, so they couldn’t have given that aid before Snake got his throat torn out?” Abel pushed.

Gregor’s focus intensified on him. “I understand your anger.”

“Sorry, you don’t,” Abel bit out. “See, my mate clung tight to my back on my bike, her cheek to my shoulder, and she cried the whole fuckin’ way here. I felt it. I sensed it. I heard it. It’s good my instinct to keep her safe is strong or I woulda crashed that bike, seein’ as her grief cut me that deep. And I liked the guy. Didn’t know him that well, but I liked him mostly because he loved my woman in a way he was willing to die for her. And then he did.”

“Whatever burial your mate’s people request, we will provide for him,” Gregor replied quietly.

“That’s appreciated, but my point is, we gotta have a fuckin’ burial.”

“Abel, we’re at war,” Gregor told him. “This happens. It’s hateful. But it happens.”

He was not wrong.

Abel let Snake go, since the man was dead and there was nothing he could do but help his woman and her people mourn him, and he asked, “You wanna explain this war?”

“Perhaps I should get you that drink you refused while we wait and get into that when Lucien and Callum arrive.”