Page 24

I pushed through the door, letting out a dark chuckle when I found it unlocked. Nikolas still had enough power to defend himself, but this was just stupid.

“Oi,” I yelled while taking in my surroundings. The house was old, but it was clear it had once been something to desire. The furniture withstood the test of time, only looking slightly sun soaked. What was more distracting was the red wine stain splashed across the white cushion of the couch.

For all I knew, it was blood.

The living area opened to the kitchen, and I turned to take in that mess. There were bottles of alcohol strewn across the kitchen island, evidence of a recent gathering.

“Nikolas!” I yelled again. It was late afternoon; he should be up. And I knew he was in this house.

“Not so loud,” he groaned from down the hall, accompanied by the dull slap of his hands against the wall as he stumbled toward me.

I widened my stance a bit, crossing my arms over my chest.

Nikolas rounded the corner a second later and stopped short. We looked similar, with our father’s hair and our mother’s eyes, but he looked like a stretched out version of me. A little taller and a lot skinnier. It carried through to his personality, his humor slithering and moral code thin.

Nikolas lifted his head on a wince. He reeked of a hangover. “You look like a fucking brute.”

“What a greeting for your brother, Nikolas,” I said, ignoring his observation. Yeah, I’d gotten bulkier over the last year. A fun little side effect of Daphne’s disappearing act.

I had a sick wish that she liked it, made it harder for her to act unaffected. Or maybe she just didn’t care.

Whatever.

“What do you want?” my brother asked, with all the interest of a vulture pecking at a bone.

I wasn’t having a conversation with him while he was swaying like he was about to throw up. I stomped over to him, clamped a hand down on the back of his neck, and marched him over to the couch.

I pushed him into it, then took a seat on the least dirty chair on the other side of the coffee table. The one with a giant crack in the glass.

“You’re causing problems,” I said, venom in my voice.

“I wouldn’t figure it was your concern,” Nikolas said casually, slumping down into the couch.

How that asshole came from our parents was one of life’s many mysteries.

“Of course, it’s my fucking concern,” I bit out. “You might have abandoned all responsibility, but that doesn’t mean your actions don’t have consequences.”

Nikolas rolled his eyes. Rolled. His. Eyes. “Oh, don’t be dramatic, Lukas. I’m just having a bit of fun. Something you would do well to try sometime.”

A deep breath to dispel the urge to kill him. “Yourfunis making you look like an idiot. It’s common knowledge you run around drunk half the time. And you were in power long enough to know things other people shouldn’t.”

Nikolas’s head rolled to the side. He didn’t look like he fully absorbed my words. “I’m entirely in control.”

“Are you?” I asked. We might have nothing in common, but he was still my brother. If he had a problem, I would get him help.

“Yes. As you’ll remember, I’ve been fine for the past four years.” Yeah, four years since he’d abdicated. Four years since I’d taken over.

It had been clear before that he had no interest in ruling. I’d been taking on responsibility for years prior to his departure. It was an unspoken thing that my father was considering asking me to step up, instead of doing it after Nikolas decided to leave.

But we’d never know for sure.

“Fineisn’t running around like you’re a socialite from a human family,” I said, feeling my body tense with the memories of his antics. “How do you even pay for shit?”

Nikolas grinned like a hyena. “I’m a god. People don’t make me pay for anything.”

“Were,” I snapped. “You were a god.”

“Same thing. The appeal is still there.”