“Respect, you’ve held up everything you’ve promised, including getting my people medical attention and bringing us to your fortress.” He threw out a hand. “But I got an injured brother. My woman has a member of her family down too, and she’s fucked up with grief. I need to get to her and not do it after waitin’ for Lucien and Callum to get here.”

Abel was grateful Gregor immediately inclined his head.

“Then we’ll begin.”

And then the asshole began, spouting shit about mates destined not only for each other, but to save humanity from enslavement by the evil supernaturals, who had, for centuries, been wanting to make their play and were now preparing to do that.

The mates, known as The Sacred Triumvirate, or The Three, specifically three couples who have eloquent understanding of both supernatural and human existence, being prophesied to engage in what was called The Nobel War and save the world.

Or die fucking trying.

It took a lot more words for the vampire to share this with Abel, but that was the gist.

When he was done, Abel snarled, “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

“As I raised Sonia from a child, I love her as my own, and she is as vulnerable to these Prophesies as you and your mate, I wish I were. But I’m not,” Gregor replied.

He knew both Lucien and Callum were approaching, but that didn’t stop him from stating, “This is totally fucking whacked.”

“That cannot be argued. But it’s still true,” Gregor told him.

Jesus.

“There’s more you need to know,” Gregor kept going. “such as the dreams.” Abel’s body got tight at that, but Gregor didn’t stop. “And added abilities. For instance, today we were outnumbered, my guess, ten to one, and the reason we weren’t bested swiftly is not only because you wisely trained your brothers to handle themselves against the additional speed and strength they’d be facing. Nor was it because Lucien and Callum are both experienced and exceptionally skilled. But because you, as Lucien is, as Callum is, are uncommonly gifted in battle.”

Abel said nothing.

Gregor did, guessing, “You trained your brothers because you knew this day would come.”

“Dreams,” Abel grunted as the door opened and Lucien, followed by Callum, came through.

They said nothing, but Abel tilted his chin up to them as he caught their eyes.

They moved into the room, Lucien looking his way even as he went to an armchair and sat his ass in it, Callum dipping his chin as he moved toward the couch but didn’t sit. Instead, he leaned against it.

As they settled in, Gregor asked, “Does Delilah dream?”

“Yeah,” Abel answered.

“Yours are premonitory,” Gregor noted.

“Dreamed today. Not the outcome, but dreamed it happened, felt we were gonna lose. Didn’t dream about us getting help,” Abel told him.