He frowned. “No, you’re not.” No way in hell was his youngest brother going into a mind-battle with the demons. Jase still carried the scars from fighting and killing when a mere teenager—a fact that plagued the king daily. “My job is on the front lines, Dage.” “I’m aware of that.” Dage flicked his gaze to Jase and then back to Conn. “Unfortunately, we have more than one front line going on right now. I need you here.” “No, you don’t.” He’d hit his brother before, but never when Dage acted as King. This would be a first. “I planned this development. You’re protected, as is everyone else here. The greater threat lies in the Baltic States.” The demons had centralized their location during the last several decades, and the war needed to go to them. Jase stepped into danger range. “What about Moira, Conn? What about the swirling vortex of possible pain hunting your mate?” Conn rounded on his younger brother. They stood eye to eye, both packed hard. Jase had always known how to aim for the jugular.
