The penthouse was decorated in grays, chromes, and blacks, with statues set out in almost every corner, and potted planets—so many potted plants. He didn’t understand why he was so hung up on that detail, but Zane found himself counting them, growing more perplexed by the second.
“Have we even met before?” he muttered, unable to help himself, still taking the open floorplan of the main level in as Ledger poured his brother a glass of water and set it on the counter.
The corner of Pavel’s lips tipped upward, but he didn’t get a chance to reply; the waiter from earlier suddenly appeared from the hallway on the opposite side of the room.
“Thank you,” Nikita joined them and spoke to Zane in a light tone. “Seriously. That was…a lot down there. I appreciate you coming to my defense.”
“He’s right,” Ledger agreed, nodding his head. “Thanks.”
“I recognized him,” Zane said. “It would have been harder not to, you’ve been bringing him around everywhere.”
Ledger chuckled. “That’s Zane for you. Always putting the Retinue first.”
Nikita frowned. “I’m not Retinue.”
“You’re mine,” Ledger stated. “That’s the same thing.”
It was clear the waiter wanted to argue, but Zane hadn’t come here to listen to whatever was going on between the two of them either.
“We need to talk.” His gaze cut to Pavel and held.
“Alone?” Ledger was the one to ask.
“Doesn’t have to be.” Zane felt a spark of satisfaction when his response clearly confused Pavel. “Personally, I don’t care if you hear about how your brother’s been treating me.”
“How has he been treating you?” Nikita sounded uncertain, jumping back into the conversation. Despite his claims not to be a part of the Retinue, he must feel safe enough amongst these two to be so vocal.
Ledger looked uncomfortable, shifting on his feet, suddenly unable to meet his boyfriend's gaze.
“He’s almost given me a concussion on several occasions,” Zane filled in.
Pavel frowned. “I have?”
“Have you only fucked Vitals?” he snorted. “My bones aren’t made of star crystal. I will in fact break if you keep throwing me onto the ground.”
“You’ve done what?” Nikita’s expression darkened. “That’s abuse.”
“Uh,” Ledger cleared his throat and came around the counter, setting his palms on Nikita’s shoulders in an attempt to steer him away, “how about we—”
“No,” he shook him off with a huff, glaring daggers Pavel’s way.
Which completely caught Zane off guard. Up until now, the twenty-year-old had always come off as timid whenever Zane saw him, but Nikita was clenching his fists as though he was holding himself back from taking a swing.
At Pavel Hart, arguably one of the scariest Devils there was—and Zane wasn’t just thinking that because the man had hunted him through the wilderness either. It was a known fact.
“You can’t just hurt someone you don’t like,” Nikita said, voice quivering slightly.
“Funny,” Pavel cocked his head, “I don’t recall you feeling that way when Ledger asked Madden to break your brother’s fingers.”
“That was different.”
“How so?”
“He deserved it.”
“How do you know Zane didn’t deserve it as well?”
Zane rolled his eyes. “I’m standing right here, and for the record, I did nothing to you to deserve any of it. Your odd fetish—”
