“How often do you speak with your brothers?”
Rafe smiled at his question. It held only innocent curiosity. He knew Philippe had no devious schemes to hurt his family. “Before I started associating with a certain clan leader?” he started with a mocking smile. “Every day, but that was usually by text. Bel and I would speak over the phone at least every other day. I would see them in person probably once per week.”
Lines cut across Philippe’s forehead, and the corners of his mouth tugged into a frown. “I never meant—”
Rafe cut Philippe’s words off with a kiss. “I have no regrets, and I’m sure my brothers are appreciative that you’ve distracted me from my usual mischief. Thanks to you, I’ve not been annoying the Ministry.”
“That is definitely a plus.”
Marcus would certainly agree with that. Rafe preferred to be stirring up trouble for the Ministry and pushing against the status quo. He was sure humans were ready to accept that vampires existed and walked among them, but he was in the minority. That didn’t mean he couldn’t make some small inroads into introducing the idea of vampires to humans.
But all that was on hold for now. His main concern was Philippe and the Arsenault clan.
“Is Gideon okay?” Philippe asked gently.
Rafe’s frown returned. He’d appreciated Philippe’s decision not to ask about Gideon when he’d arrived. Rafe’s thoughts had been too consumed by worries over Gideon as well as Lola and Ryder. Yes, Lola and Ryder were quite adept at taking care of themselves, but they didn’t have the luxury of having a clan name to protect them, to act as an extra shield.
“He’s safe. A fool came into my club and thought that he could simply claim Gideon without repercussions.”
“I’m sorry.”
Rafe pulled away from Philippe so that he could sit up against the pillows and headboard. Thoughts of Gideon and what occurred at Blush had Rafe wide awake now. “It’s not the first time someone has set their eye on Gideon, though it’s been a while. Fucking idiots,” he muttered.
Philippe seemed about to speak, but in the end, he pressed his lips tightly together as if he were trying to swallow the words.
“If you don’t feel free to tell me your thoughts, then we haven’t grown nearly as close as I thought we had,” Rafe said. He softened his words with a small smile down at Philippe.
“Just because I have the freedom to share my opinion does not mean that I should take advantage of that. You might have no interest in my opinion.”
“Tell me.”
“Is Gideon a Varik?”
Rafe tensed at the question, struggling to keep his expression bland, but he had a feeling that Philippe already saw through him. It was why he’d hesitated. “The Variks aren’t a clan. We’re a family.”
Philippe pushed up so that he was sitting against the pillows with Rafe. “Yes, I know that’s how you see it. It’s how all the Variks see it. You’re simply a family, but our world doesn’t know how to deal with that. We see you as a clan whether you wish to accept that or not. I’m sure Marcus has in a way simply because he’s the one who must go before the Ministry.”
“Why does it fucking matter?”
“Because the word ‘clan’ means something to us. It’s the one shield we all recognize. It carries weight where few things do.” Philippe lifted his hand and pressed his fingers against Rafe’s jaw, adding pressure until Rafe turned his head to look at him. “Some of us recognize that Gideon belongs to you without the clan name, but most won’t. You’ll have to keep fighting them year after year, town after town, because Gideon has no clan. The same goes for Lola and Ryder. They stand by you out of loyalty and love, but they don’t have the benefit of having a clan.”
Disgust filled him, and Rafe had to turn his gaze away from Philippe. He stared down at the sheets draped over his lap, his fingers twisted in the fine material. “They deserve better.”
“I’ve seen you with them,” Philippe said sharply. Rafe looked back to see his eyes narrowed. “I don’t think one of them would complain about the arrangement. They know you will give your life to protect them. They know your family will always protect them.”
Rafe closed his eyes. Philippe’s words were a mild balm, but he still worried about his people. Philippe was right. He needed to speak with Marcus about it. If they were to ever officially become a clan, to take in outsiders, Marcus would be the one he needed to convince first.
“I need to speak with my brothers about this,” Rafe admitted thickly.
“Trust me, I’m the last person who wants to strengthen the walls between us,” Philippe said. His voice was light and off-hand, but it had Rafe’s eyes popping open and his heart speeding up.