The bullet had lodged itself partway through him and Zane had already dug it free. Fortunately, it’d missed all major organs, probably only because Aodhan hadn’t been able to see his target.
“Are you sure he’s life partner material?” Aodhan had moved to perch on the edge of a metal stool in the opposite corner, the blaster still held loosely in his right hand. “If he can’t be trusted, we should finish him off now and save ourselves the trouble later.”
“He’s fine,” Zane insisted. “And he doesn’t need to be my partner for life, divorce is a thing, if you recall, brother. We just need to sell it long enough to get Lyra off my back.”
“What’s going on with Lyra?” Pavel was lying on the table, staring up at Zane, and aside from the squirming, he’d been mostly good for the past half hour. Probably to avoid being shot again. But at the mention of the Imperial Heir, his moodnoticeably darkened, and when he didn’t get an immediate response, he grabbed Zane’s wrist, stopping him. “Gorgeous.”
Aodhan let out a whistle, but Zane ignored him, attempting to shake Pavel loose. When the other man refused to let go, he sighed.
“She wants to make me her Royal Consort,” he began, only to have to force Pavel back down when he instantly sprang up. “Lay back! What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you want to bust your stitches?!”
“I’ll kill her.” Pavel’s eyes were glowing, a vibrant neon shade that instantly drew Aodhan’s attention.
“Wow,” he tipped his head, fascinated, “those are pretty.”
“Back off,” Zane warned, knowing his brother well enough to know where his mind was going. “They’re mine.”
Aodhan held up both hands and leaned back.
“And you,” he turned to Pavel, “Don’t act like you weren’t eavesdropping.”
“I only caught part of the conversation,” Pavel said. “You were driving pretty fast. I had to use the tracker to locate you.”
“Tracker?” his brother perked back up. “Do tell?”
“No.” Zane pressed a hand on Pavel’s shoulder to keep him down and went back to patching him up. “You’re already at risk of getting infected, the last thing you can afford is messing around and reopening your wound.”
“You poured enough alcohol on him to satisfy a drunkard,” Aodhan drawled. “He’s fine, baby brother.”
“He isn’t fine, he’s got a hole in his gut.”
“Seems all right to me.” Aodhan shrugged. “Besides, from the sounds of things, he lucked out in all of this.” He set his sights on Pavel once more. “I’m guessing from your reaction you’re not a fan of Lyra or her weird obsession with Zane?”
“I tend to take issue with people who covet things that don’t belong to them,” Pavel stated.
“Oh?”
“Stop it,” Zane hissed, closing up the wound and finally moving on to the next step. “Both of you.”
“Why? Aren’t I allowed to be interested in your life?” Aodhan asked.
“No.”
“Harsh. Just because you don’t care about who I date doesn’t mean I have to feel the same. Besides, I’m the oldest, isn’t it sort of my duty to pay attention to the men you try to bring home?”
“I’m not bringing anyone home.”
“You are if you marry him, and if you aren’t going to marry him…” Aodhan lifted the blaster and gave it a little shake.
“I’ll do it,” Pavel interjected.
“Of course you will,” Zane couldn’t help the irritation from slipping into his tone, even though, technically, he needed him to agree now.
“Don’t sound so annoyed,” Pavel said. “Your brother is right, this is a good thing. We’re only moving up the inevitable.”
His hands stilled and his eyes narrowed.
“What’s wrong, gorgeous?” Pavel quirked a brow. “You didn’t honestly believe I was chasing after you for shits and giggles, did you? What part of bashert didn’t you comprehend?”
