Tempted

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Their sworn enemy had declared war again. He had known it would happen.

Max Petrovsky settled in the leather chair, his gaze on Dage Kayrs. Being in an office, any office, made his shoulders twitch. He belonged on the battlefield and not in the king’s underground headquarters. “I’m ready to go, King.”

“Yes. You’re always ready to go.” Dage leaned forward, resting his elbows on the onyx desk, western oil paintings lining the wall behind him. “I had hoped to avoid war for another century, but the Kurjans haven’t given me a choice.”

The bottom-feeders would die. “Then I should get going—take them out in my home country.” Not that the United States hadn’t been good to him. Max liked it, but he also knew the strongholds at home, good old mother Russia. Although he hadn’t been back in centuries, the hills where he’d hidden from his drunken father were embedded in his memory.

“You’ve been working alone for too long.”

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