Page 33

They were so not even.

Zane scowled as he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, mainly at the four-inch-long P carved into his left thigh just above the knee. He’d pulled the bandage to the side to look at it, and sort of wished he hadn’t.

He should be furious. It’d hurt, he’d been marked without his permission, and it’d been made with his knife.

And yet…

Zane’s fingers passed over the cut, the sting only making him tip his head in curiosity.

Damn it.

He liked it.

“There’s something wrong with me,” he muttered, though if he were being honest, that wasn’t exactly news. He’d known all about how sick and twisted he was after Kazimir had taken him against his will and he’d walked away from it having had the best orgasm of his life.

Well, that was until Pavel. He topped everything. Every experience Zane had had with any other partner, completely blown out of the water. They were incomparable.

Which was so annoying.

He was trying hard not to think about how they’d been filmed, how this cut could have been more for Lyra and the rest of the viewers than it was for him. How that bothered him more than it should…

Zane traced the P absently.

It should have been an H. If it’d been an H, there’d be no doubts in his mind that this was meant for him and him alone. He wouldn’t be standing here pouting, upset over the possibility that he’d been marked so permanently and intimately all to get a rise out of someone else.

Had it even worked?

He didn’t have his multi-slate, had no clue where Pavel had stashed it, so he couldn’t even check to see if he’d gotten any missed messages from Lyra, Wells, or anyone else for that matter. Surely some of the other Retinue had heard and had tried calling. Maybe even a couple of the Satellite. He needed his device. Needed to check and then come to some sort of decision about all of this once and for all.

Depending on the damage being filmed had caused, maybe he could salvage something. Although…where had Pavel said he was broadcasting them again? All he could remember was something about the university and Lyra definitely finding out. If only he hadn’t been completely out of his mind at the time.

Most of this afternoon was a blur. He’d been reduced to little more than a bundle of nerves after that first hour, and the rest was…Well. Zane would have done or said anything to get those toys off of him and be allowed to come. He’d needed sweet release more than air by that point, and Pavel, that bastard, had known it.

“What are you doing out of bed?” a sleepy voice drifted toward him a moment before Pavel entered the bathroom rubbing at his eyes. He came over and hugged him from behind, clearly uncaring of the way Zane growled at him in warning and stiffened at his touch. He buried his face against his neck and clung. “Come back.”

“Let go.”

He sighed. “This again?”

“I—” Zane found himself bent over the counter, his head practically in the sink. “Seriously?! You—”

Pavel’s cock plunged into him without warning. He folded himself over Zane to keep him down and hushed his complaints, fucking him in a slow, almost sloppy rhythm that gave away just how tired he truly was.

And damn it all to hell and back.

Zane liked that too.

He liked that even half dead, Pavel’s natural instinct was to fuck him into submission.

Was to want him.

“Shh,” Pavel breathed against the side of his neck. “Be good and let me tire you out so we can go back to bed, hmm? We both need rest, bashert. You can throw your tantrum later.”

“My—” he cut himself off with a growl when Pavel drove in particularly deep and hit all the right places inside of him on the way out. “Fuck.”

“That’s what we’re doing.”

“Hold on,” Zane insisted, trying to push back. He met Pavel’s reflected gaze in the mirror when he was met with resistance and held in place. “Take me to the bedroom. I want to do it there.”

Pavel’s brow winged up.

“You come for a million years,” Zane said. “At least let me be on my back for that. I don’t think I can stand here for that long. My body is still shaky from your abuse earlier.”

“Abuse, huh?”

“Hart,” he sighed. “Please.”

He stilled and then after a moment, pulled out, but before Zane could straighten on his own, Pavel spun him around and hauled him over his shoulder.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded as he was carried out of the bathroom and back into the room they’d been sharing.

“You said you were tired,” Pavel reminded, tossing him down onto the bed. He fell down after him, covering his body with his own. His cock was back inside of Zane before he could get another word of protest out. “There you go. Nice and comfortable now, bashert?”

“Fuck you.”

“Gorgeous,” he grinned and then kissed him. “That’s what you’re doing.”

For all his talk about being tired, Pavel forced another three orgasms out of Zane before he’d even entertain the idea of letting him rest.

Yeah, they were so not even.

* * *

Zane had woken up alone in bed and opted to take this opportunity to explore. There were three levels to the mansion, but he’d avoided the first since Pavel was most likely there doing something domestic like cooking breakfast. He’d been insistent on that idea, especially since yesterday they’d skipped it again, spending the whole time lounging—and fucking—in bed.

And in the bathtub.

And on the bathroom floor.

In the window seat in the room…

His ass still smarted with every step and the love bites scattered all over his body were blatant reminders of how roughly Pavel liked to take him. He’d dressed in a loose forest green shirt and a pair of pajama pants in the same shade that had been left out, hating that his first thought after stepping into them had been whether or not Pavel was dressed in the matching set.

Zane padded barefoot down the long hallway on the second level, the hardwood floor cold beneath his feet. Outside, another storm was raging, and he listened to the rain as he moved in and out of every room he came to, snooping as he went.

There were a lot of empty bedrooms, ones that mirrored hotel rooms more than anything, with just the basics and crisp sheets and nothing else. He closed the doors to at least four, disappointment warring with the need to call it and go find Pavel after all. If nothing else, the other man was entertaining, and Zane didn’t really do well with boredom.

The color scheme was muted tones throughout, with golden fixtures helping to spice things up and little else. It was almost as though Pavel had kept everything basic and minimalist, which was the opposite of the warm, lived-in feeling of his penthouse suite back in the city.

There was art on the walls though, at first just unrecognizable sketches in black and white that Zane had mostly overlooked. Every piece was framed and carefully hung at least five feet apart, as though this hallway acted as a sort of art gallery more than just a means to transport a person from one room to the next. It wasn’t until he was almost all the way at the end of it, close to the stairwell, that the images began to be more discernable, and he slowed to inspect the one closest to him.

His gaze followed the curve of a leg, making out what must be a blanket and then…He frowned. It was a person. A man with his face buried between his arms, the top of his head barely peeking out from beneath a bundle of blankets that obscured practically all of his body and concealed his identity.

Was this a past lover? Someone Pavel had cared about? Or a mere infatuation he’d sketched on a whim?

Hadn’t he promised there’d been no one but him?

With a huff, Zane ignored the last three rooms and took the stairs up to the next level two at a time, ignoring the way that made his sore muscles ache even more. There’d been a bath and a rub down with sun cream early this morning in the AM hours before they’d finally gone to sleep, and while that had clearly worked wonders, it wasn’t enough to ease all of the discomfort.

Which was good, because Zane welcomed it like the freak he was.

“So fucked up,” he mumbled, stopping at the first door at the top of the landing. He grabbed the handle and shoved it open, rolling his eyes when he was greeted by yet another bedroom. “What the hell is he trying to do, house the entire Retinue and the Satellite?”

Did Pavel think they were going to start coming out here for weekend retreats or some shit like that?

He finally found an interesting room three doors down, though interesting was a vague word. At least it wasn’t another bedroom, in any case.

The office was set up a lot like the one Pavel kept on the second floor, and Zane found himself scanning the bookshelves for any loose slips of paper before anything else. When he came up empty-handed, he turned his attention to the desk, moving over and plopping down in the plush leather rotating seat.

When he tried the drawer to his right, he discovered it was locked. Trying the others, two on the left and one at the center that pulled out, proved they all were.

Which really wouldn’t do.

Zane got back up and searched for something that could be useful, finding a stylus with a clip on the other side of the room that he hadn’t looked at yet. He plucked it off the shelf but paused when a couple of framed photos caught his eye.

They were of Pavel and his family. There was a picture of him and Ledger when they’d been teenagers, sitting outside in the grass, smiling at whoever was holding the camera. Then he and his parents sat around the dinner table. Another of all four of them at what was clearly high school graduation.

Every year, the Solace family got together and took the annual family photo. It was generic and meant more to give off the appearance of perfection than of anything else; certainly closeness wasn’t a consideration since none of them ever bothered to smile for it.

These were different. There was a warmth here that Zane lacked in his own life. Something he’d only ever come close to experiencing with the Retinue and…well.

He turned away from the photos and returned to the desk before the melancholy threatening to consume him in his chest could take permanent root. What was there to be envious of? So what if Pavel had lucked out and his adoption had been to a welcoming and loving family?

Not everyone could be so lucky, and besides, it wasn’t like Zane was un fortunate. Becoming a Solace was what had gotten him his position, after all, and it was one he wouldn’t trade or give up.

The clip was easy enough to pop off the stylus, but then he had to work it a bit to get it the right twisted shape. The locks on the desk were old school, probably because the hulking piece of mahogany wood was an antique. That meant the locks were already flimsy, so it didn’t take long for him to break into the first drawer.

He tugged it out and removed a metal box, setting it on the desk before flicking the lid open. There were dozens of drawings inside, maybe hundreds, and it took him a moment longer than it should have for him to recognize what he was seeing.

Himself.

Just when he thought Pavel couldn’t get any crazier, the guy always seemed to prove him wrong.

Zane pulled a few of the drawings out, turning them so they were what he believed to be right side up. The loose pages were all different sizes, some sketched in blue ink, others in charcoal or black pen. They showed him from various points of view, some from above as though Pavel had been watching him from a vantage point, others of him bent over a work table, or…sleeping.

He shut the box and opened the next drawer with a bit more fervor, gasping when he yanked it open and discovered there wasn’t even a box to hold the contents of this one.

The photographs were…unsettling.

And abundant.

The drawer was practically stuffed so full it was a wonder he could open it without something getting caught. Like with the drawings, they were printed in different sizes, and Zane pulled out a random handful and spread them across the desk so he could get a better look.

There were shots taken of him on campus, walking between classes, and in the lab. The cafeteria. The parking lot.

Ones of him driving to and from places, and even in the back of the Imperial vehicle that had sometimes been sent for him. Samuel was in some of the pictures, in the corner or background, as if he’d gotten in the way of the camera at the last second and couldn’t be avoided.

They were the usual stalkerish photos, and since Zane had already been aware Pavel was following him around like a creep, he got over being freaked out by them relatively quickly.

Until he pulled out another handful and the images…changed.

One in particular had his heart thumping wildly in his chest and he picked it up to inspect it closer.

He was sleeping in his apartment on campus, only in his boxer briefs, his blanket tossed to the side to expose him.

Pavel’s cock was also in the frame, his hand holding himself up in a way it made it clear he was posing on purpose. He was erect and flushed, a bead of fluid rolling from his tip.

What the hell was this?

He tossed it and reached for another. This time he was sleeping in his room in the Little Palace and there was no dick.

But he was on his stomach and his underwear had been pulled down to bare his ass to the camera.

Had he been drunk when this was taken? Was that why he hadn’t woken up?

There were dozens more like those, though most of them were just shots of him sleeping and nothing else. Occasionally he’d find another lewd one, catch another glimpse of Pavel jerking himself off to his sleeping form, or stripping him to take a naked picture.

Zane fumbled with the clip when he made a grab for it again, desperately trying to slot it into the final lock in the center drawer.

He had to know what was in there.

He had to.

The second the latch came undone he was pulling, whipping it open fast enough he actually lost his balance and fell back into the chair. It didn’t matter; he was too focused on the contents to care.

His multi-slate was there, set carefully to the side of the drawer on a bed of red velvet, but Zane ignored it, eyes scanning the other items instead. There was another framed photo, only this time it was of him, a shot of him from the waist up at Friction. He must have just won a sparring match, because he was covered in sweat, and he was grinning.

Pavel must have been standing just at the side of the ring to capture a shot like this, and yet Zane had been completely clueless.

The last thing in the drawer was a box made from the same red velvet his multi-slate was set on. It fit in the palm of his hand when Zane pulled it out, and he tilted it this way and that before curiosity got the best of him and he opened it.

Inside there were two rings. They were gold chain circles, reminding him a lot of the ones Pavel had used to tie him up the other day, though thinner, maybe only around four millimeters or so.

Pretty, in an elegant and masculine way that called to him.

“You weren’t supposed to find those,” Pavel’s voice pulled him out of his concentration and his head snapped up to find the other man standing in the doorway with a frown. Cautiously, he entered, gaze sweeping from the box in his hands to the rest of the stuff strewn about the desk. “Those either. There’s a reason your office is on the same floor as our bedroom and mine is all the way up here.”

His office? Was the room he’d found that drawing in the other day meant for him?

Wait. That wasn’t important right now.

“What are these?” Zane turned the box around as though Pavel didn’t know what was in it.

“Rings,” he said in a voice that made it clear he thought he was dumb for asking.

“Yes, but for what.”

“What do you think?”

Zane shook his head and stood. “Why do you have these, Pavel?”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, stopping on the other side of the desk. “I bought them for us, okay? Obviously it was meant to be a surprise once the time was right. Who would have guessed you’d break into my things on day three?”

Pavel caught sight of the photo where his cock was present and he stiffened. “How many of these did you look at?”

“That depends,” Zane countered, “how many are there?”

He closed his eyes and grimaced. “I can explain.”

“We can skip over the obvious ones,” he said. “The normal stalker photos.”

“Normal…” He looked like he wanted to laugh at that but smartly kept it in. “Right.”

“Tell me about these.” Zane set the box down, pretending not to notice when Pavel instantly took it, and picked up a few of the photos of him sleeping. “These. Explain these.”

“Sometimes I…” He cleared his throat. “I like to sneak into your room and watch you.”

“How often.”

“Not that often.”

“Pavel.”

“Every couple of months or so.”

“That’s…” he almost said psychotic, but that would be redundant at this point. Name-calling wasn’t important right now anyway. “How often do you come here?”

“To the mansion?” Pavel pursed his lips. “Not that frequently. These are all the older photos and drawings, I haven’t had a chance to add to them yet, though I did bring new material with me. I’ve been kind of busy with you these past few days.”

“So you haven’t been here in…?”

He thought it over. “Three weeks? I came once after losing the bet and added all of those fun additions downstairs. That was when I concocted my fantasy of all the things I’d do to you once I had you strung up in gold chains.”

Which meant…those rings had been here well before Aodhan had shot him and he’d learned Zane needed to marry someone to escape from Lyra.

“You,” he took in all of the stuff and let out a low whistle, “are certifiably insane. And you must really, really like me.”

“I’m in love with you,” Pavel stated plainly, as though that were obvious. When Zane merely gaped at him, he shrugged.

“You’re obsessed,” he corrected, only for the other man to snort.

“Why can’t I be both?”

“This is a lot.” Zane dropped back down into the chair.

“Are you mad?”

“Mad? I should be terrified of you right now.”

Pavel tipped his head. “Are you?”

He wet his lips and thought it over. There were a lot of emotions racing through him at the moment but fear wasn’t one of them. His gaze dropped to his multi-slate, but before he could decide what to do, Pavel shot forward as if to grab it.

Zane got it first, backing up until he hit the window, the desk still between them.

“What are you going to do, Doctor?” Pavel asked, nervousness threading his tone. Carefully, he set the ring box down and held out a hand. “Give me the device.”

He powered it on without breaking eye contact and shook his head.

“Gorgeous,” his voice firmed. “Give it to me. Now.”

A flood of messages and calls came through all at once, the dings that signaled them momentarily filling the space between them. They sounded off for what had to be a full minute before the multi-slate finally went still in his hold.

Zane clicked the contact that had called the most and waited as it rang, not bothering with the attached earpiece.

Pavel swore. “No matter who you call for help, they can’t have you,” he growled. “No one is allowed to take you from me, bashert. Not even Kelevra. I won’t back down. I won’t lose—”

“Zane!” Lyra practically shrieked his name. “Good Light, are you okay? I saw what he did to you! Don’t worry. I’ve got—”

“I’m getting married to Pavel Hart, Majesty,” Zane interrupted, more focused on the way Pavel’s eyes widened and he went still. “I’m sorry, but I thought you ought to know.”

“What? No, Zane—”

He ended the call and tossed the multi-slate at Pavel, who caught it one-handed.

They stared at each other for a long moment before Pavel broke the silence. “Gorgeous…”

“Did you make breakfast?” Zane moved around the desk and headed toward the door. “I’m starving.”

And if he was also a bit freaked out by the massive life choice he’d just made on a whim?

No one needed to know.