“How do you know he’s not straight?”
“Just a hunch, I guess?”
I drop the barbell he’s pressing, and he struggles to hold it up. My eye twitches, and a spark of agitation ripples through my stomach, spreading like wildfire.
It takes me a few moments to regain my composure. “What type ofhunch, Niko?”
“Queer men things. Not something you’d understand. Cy is queer, in a sense. Not sure what yet, but I’ll find out.”
“Did he give you permission to call him that?”
“Call him what?”
“Cy. Only Yulian calls him that. None of the others on their side dares to.”
“It’s cuter than Cyrus.”
“Ever thought maybe that’s the reason he wouldn’t want practical strangers to call him by his nickname?”
“Meh. It’s just a name.”
I grab the bar from him and set it down with a clank. “Have you figured out why he’s being fostered by Yulian’s dad?”
“I know it started, like, two years ago, because he moved in with Yulian’s family when he was fourteen, and he’s sixteen now.”
“Did he mention bloodline relations with the Dimitrievs or any reason why they’d take him in?”
“No. He changed the subject when I asked him.”
Of course he did. It was a long shot to have Niko investigate anyway.
“Buuut, Yulian said Cy is his brother from another mother—figuratively, I assume.” He sits up. “Also, the dad is here.”
“The dad?”
“Yulian’s dad. The leader dude from Chicago? He showed up when we were fighting, and everyone on the other side looked terrified. Maybe Yulian lost because of that.”
“Yaroslav is here?”
“Yeah, whatever his name is.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you say that earlier, Niko?”
“Didn’t think it was important.”
That tracks.
Nothing except for violence and sex is important to Nikolai.
I rush out of the gym, wishing I had access to my phone so I could message Dad.
Yaroslav wasn’t supposed to show up at the camp. Neither is my dad.
Hell, even the upper echelons of both organizations shouldn’t come here.
I have a bad feeling about Yaroslav’s sudden appearance.
It takes me a while to reach Yulian’s room, which he shares with Cyrus.
