Just like she’d taught him.
The unruffled and diamond-hard prodigy.
“I wasn’t informed you were returning,” he said, his voice cool and clipped, like chipped ice off an ice sculpture. It took everything in him not to flinch when his mother set those furious eyes back on him and shifted half an inch closer in her heels threateningly.
“I don’t need to get permission from you to enter my own home,” she snapped, then threw out a hand, stabbing a well-manicured white nail in the air at Baikal. “I leave you on your own for a few months and this is how you repay me? By gallivanting around the city with criminal scum?” She set that harsh stare on the Brumal Prince. “Get the fuck out of my house before I call the police.”
“Do,” Baikal challenged. “I’ve been considering filing a physical abuse claim since you woke us—If he bruises anywhere that you’ve put those grimy hands, I’ll make you pay tenfold.”
“Excuse you?” She remained poised, but it was obvious he’d hit a nerve and she was merely waiting for the right opportunity to strike. December wouldn’t risk anything in public, but they were currently in the private confines of her home, with no witnesses and therefore no one to stop her. “Rabbit, remove yourself from that deviant’s side right this second and go wait for me in the practice room.”
“Don’t,” Baikal said, delivering his own order. “Stay.”
Rabbit hesitated, two sides at war with themselves. Survival instincts built upon throughout his life told him to do as his mother told him. Going along with her moods was the best way to avoid harsh punishment. But everything else inside of him was screaming not to go, to ignore her and focus on Baikal instead, not because his orders were more important, but because his were the ones Rabbit had chosen to follow.
Choice.
Didn’t he have any?
“I’m twenty-two,” he reminded December, proud when his voice remained firm. “I’m no longer a child. You don’t get to snap your fingers and lock me up when you’re bored anymore.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Bored? Everything I’ve done I did for you, and you damn well know it, you ungrateful brat. Now, listen to your mother. I don’t know what kind of nonsense this boy has put in your head but—”
Baikal’s burst of sharp laughter brought her to a screeching halt. When he stopped long enough to notice her irritated stare, he motioned to her. “By all means, please continue.”
“He’s the Brumal Prince and the heir to Void United, mom,” Rabbit stated, knowing that was exactly why Baikal had found her referring to him as a boy amusing. “He isn’t just anybody.”
Baikal hummed in agreement. “You can’t simply hire thugs off the street to gang up and beat me in a filthy alleyway.”
December sucked in a breath and sent an accusatory look to Rabbit.
“I don’t think I want to play the beiska professionally,” he said, deciding not to bother with anything else and get straight to the point. Finally.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “It’s your senior year, it’s far too late for you to switch your life course and besides, there isn’t even anything else that you’re good at. What, do you think I’ll fund your life if you’ve got nothing to show for it? Think again. You’re a prodigy, Rabbit. You don’t get the luxury of quitting. Did you put this idea into his head?” she accused Baikal.
“This has nothing to do with him,” Rabbit said, putting himself between them even more, not wanting to drag Void any deeper into this mess than he already was. He was an adult, even if he’d been unable to get that through his thick skull until now. Rabbit didn’t need his mother’s permission to choose his own path. “If you’re that against it, I can go. I can pack my things and—”
“Excuse you?” She shook her head. “You aren’t going anywhere. What would the media say if they found out my only child left home, and with a Brumal member no less?” A slightly manic twinkle entered her hazel eyes, sparking something within Rabbit that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Is that all you care about?” he asked, even as he tried to grab hold of the root for that odd feeling swirling around his gut. That crazed look on her wasn’t exactly new—she’d lost her temper with him more times than he could count—but, there was something specific about it now that was putting him on edge, warning him of…something.
“I shouldn’t have left you alone for so long,” she stated. “The doctor told me after the accident that you’d need to be monitored, but when you told me you were fine I believed you because yes, you are an adult. But I see now that was a mistake. I’ll pull you from university.” She tapped her chin. “Yes, that’ll do. You don’t need it anymore anyway. You’ll get a jumpstart on your career early. Teza Sound has been contacting me for ages trying to sign you to their label. I’ll give them a call and—”
“Stop.” Rabbit was afraid he’d gotten whiplash from all of that. “Teza Sound?” She’d never mentioned they’d called her about signing him before. “They’re located on Tigra.”
That wasn’t even in their galaxy.
“Exactly. Clearly a change of scenery will do you some good.”
“He isn’t going,” Baikal said, and even though the venom in his tone wasn’t directed at him, Rabbit felt a shiver skate down his spine anyway.
“Get out of my house,” December repeated. “I don’t care who your father is or what connections you supposedly have. I’m revered throughout the universe. You? You’re nothing but a criminal. And you will stay away from my son. Now, Rabbit, come here.”
Rabbit let out a startled sound when she grabbed his wrist and yanked on him hard enough he stumbled forward. Her grip was tight, grinding the bones together so they pinched, but it didn’t last long.
Baikal was there, tearing her off of him and flinging her back. He didn’t seem to care that she was Rabbit’s mother, or that he was standing in her house. He treated her like he did everyone else.
Like they were mere subjects and he was their king.
