“Go.” Rabbit pushed him toward the door.
“Rabbit—”
“Go, I’ll be fine. It’s the middle of the afternoon and I have practice to get to. I’ll be on campus. If you need anything, call me.” He was tempted to offer to go with him, but Rabbit didn’t want to overstep. There was also the issue of not understanding how things in the Brumal worked yet. He didn’t want to accidentally offend the wrong person and get Baikal into trouble when he needed to focus on his father’s health.
There was no need for him to stick around either. Baikal had taken care of the traitors and Rabbit was no longer at risk of being attacked by that small gang. The only reason Rabbit hadn’t yet brought up that Void no longer needed to stay at his house was that he liked having the Brumal Prince around. But there was nothing for him to fear anymore, especially since his mother was currently in the middle of space on her way to another planet.
“I might not be able to check my multi-slate,” Baikal said then. “If I miss a call—”
“I won’t get mad like the last time,” he promised. “I won’t bother you. Now hurry. Go.”
Baikal pulled Rabbit in for a quick kiss, his mouth bruising and possessive, and then he was pulling away and leaving, out the door in a flash.
Rabbit pressed his fingers to his bottom lip and watched the door swing shut behind him.
His future with the beiska wasn’t the only thing he needed to consider.
He had to think about this thing with Void as well.
And how far he was truly willing to go with the other man.
Chapter 31:
“Sullivan Void, the CEO of Void United, died today in the hospital around one in the afternoon. He was surrounded by loved ones, including the heir to his father’s massive conglomerate, Baikal Void, who—”
“Shut that shit off,” one of the guys barked. A second later the holo-television attached to the far wall went silent.
There were twelve of them in all, all spread around the large hospital morgue on the bottom level. Some of them belonged to Baikal’s satellite, others were loyal to his father. He’d keep most of them on in their same positions, which was why they were allowed to be here to witness as he was inked with the ashes of his father.
Baikal was seated nearest the incinerator where his father’s body had been placed a couple of hours ago. The ashes had already been collected and mixed with the ink, the supplies spread out on the long metal table behind him.
The process of inking Shout tattoos was rare on this planet since the Void family were the only bloodline still living there that were Sancts, the people who were native to the planet Sanctum. His father’s ability had been ice, but he’d ended up with control over shadow. When he’d been a child, he’d been a stressful little monster who’d run amuck and driven Sullivan and the older generation of the Brumal mad since they’d had no experience with that particular power.
For the most part, he’d been forced to figure it out on his own, but his father had always encouraged him and stood in his corner.
“We are close to finished, Dominus,” Bow, a burly man who’d moved from the other side of the planet a decade ago and still had their thicker accent said. He patted his shoulder when his words had Baikal bristling, seemingly uncaring that he was potentially putting his life at risk by overstepping. “The title is yours. Accept it and move on.”
Baikal’s father had been dead less than six hours and this guy, who was slightly older than Sullivan had been, was telling him to get over it already. He clenched his palms, spirals of black smoke snaking over his knuckles to twirl around his forearms.
Chesh, who was seated in a chair across from him gave him a look, and it was the only thing that kept Baikal from lashing out.
He’d grown up with Chesh, Whim, and Knave, the older man who stood on the opposite side of the room. They’d been his father’s closest confidants and people whom Baikal knew he’d be able to rely on in the coming days. It wasn’t so much that he cared about disappointing one of them, more that he trusted their judgment.
His was probably shot to shit right now, all things considered.
Kal had made it just in time, dropping to his knees at his father’s bedside and taking his hand. There hadn’t been a chance for words, but his father had looked into his eyes, silently letting him know he’d been waiting for him, and then just like that, he’d left.
There’d been hope he’d last another year, at least until Baikal had graduated. It would be a lie to claim he didn’t feel cheated that wasn’t the case. He was livid, a deep, unsettling rage gnawing at his insides to the point he wanted to scream and destroy everything in this room.
But he refrained.
Sullivan Void had been a collected and intimidating ruler. Baikal might not be him, but at least here, in front of his closest friends, he could try.
They were all in mourning, after all.
Bow was nearing his eighties and had recently taken on an apprentice. Shout tattoos were different from regular ones, and the process had been handed down from generation to generation. Bow, unlike his predecessors, had remained unwed and childless, and some had started to fear he’d die before passing on what he knew.
The apprentice wasn’t present, since this was a closed remembrance of sorts and until he was inked, Baikal would be vulnerable to attack. They’d taken care of Kor, and from the sounds of things there was no need to fear any of the other Brumal members trying to cause trouble, but keeping the new Dominus safe was the number one goal of everyone in this room.
