Page 8

The bruises were gone by Monday morning, thank the gods. Zane had spent the entire rest of the weekend holed up in his room, telling everyone to fuck off because he was busy studying for exams.

In reality, he’d mostly spaced out.

The events of Friday night kept returning to him unbidden, no matter how desperately he struggled to purge them from his memory. It hadn’t helped that every time he so much as glanced into a mirror he’d caught sight of the purple and blue blotch beneath his chin. He had a scar there from when he was younger, the bruise covering part of it.

There’d been similar marks on his knees and the back of his neck, but by the time he’d forced himself out of the shower and into his school uniform Monday, they’d faded to practically nothing.

He’d made it through his first three classes but the anger hadn’t abated. The science lab he was currently in was more of a study period than anything, with students in various groups around the room, some working on actual lab work, others going over projects assigned by other science professors.

Zane would have skipped the class altogether, but he needed to focus, and he’d hoped being surrounded by fellow students would do the trick.

It wasn’t.

The worst part of it all was that his minor injuries weren’t even that big of a deal. Being chased through the forest for a little sexual excitement—even though it hadn’t originated as his own—also wasn’t the most horrible thing he’d ever endured. Hell, one time Kazimir had blindfolded him and pretended to be a robber.

This was hardly the first occasion Zane had been forced into sexual relations with someone.

He may have even been able to get over it, forgive and forget after a bit of petty revenge. The Devils of Vitality were all messed up in one way or another, and Zane had never tricked himself into believing he was an exception. Even though it’d been humiliating and confusing, the orgasms had been phenomenal enough that he really could turn the other cheek, so long as Pavel was willing to apologize and explain himself.

Except.

That bastard had left him there . Like used trash. Like just another tarnished and drenched page from one of the rotting books. Like he was nothing. Worthless.

Royal Zane Solace was so far from the meaning of worthless it was laughable. And infuriating. Did he acknowledge that he probably shouldn’t be so hyper-focused on that part of the events? Yes. But could he help it? No.

The orgasms had been great.

The aftercare had been shitty.

And Zane was in the process of considering breaking into the guy’s club to slit his wrists when the chatter in the lab turned into a hush.

He felt him before the first person whispered Pavel’s name, like this weight on his shoulders and a chill trailing up his spine. Stubbornly, Zane refused to look, keeping his attention on the holopad on his desk he was scrawling notes on. The two of them didn’t have any classes together, despite Pavel’s cryptic parting comment the other night, so there was only one reason he could think of for the other Retinue member to be here.

A strong hand dropped to his shoulders but he gave no reaction, flipping through the pages on the smaller holographic device he’d been reading from.

“Morning, Doctor,” Pavel’s voice reverberated throughout the room, and it was obvious by the gasps that Zane wasn’t the only one who heard the hint of possessiveness in it.

He scowled but still didn’t turn. “It’s the afternoon, actually.” His eyes went to the glass bottle that was placed in the corner of his desk, glad the other man couldn’t see the flicker of surprise on his face.

Pavel had been the one giving him the Doc the energy in the room had shifted the second Pavel had placed his hand on Zane’s neck. “They’re not used to you being here. You’re not one of the other Retinue. Not to mention…”

Had the guy seen himself lately? He was dressed the same as the rest of them, in tight black jeans and a black button-up that signified his status as a senior, and there was even a leather messenger bag slung over his shoulder. But…

“Your eyes are glowing,” Zane finished, swallowing, knowing that Pavel could feel the motion beneath his hold.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen it, but it was rare. Pavel’s usually stormy, almost black eyes could light up a vibrant neon yellow color in the dark, and it happened sometimes in the sparring ring at Friction, the exclusive club the Devils of Vitality owned. He’d always been known for his control and quiet disposition, kind of like Zane, but with less tension.

Last night, however, he’d been anything but, and if the quickly brightening gleam of yellow was any indicator, he was losing his grip on that calm now as well.

“Are they?” Pavel was clearly lost in his own thoughts.

Zane swallowed again. “Let go. This is Vail.”

He quirked a brow. “So it would matter if this was somewhere else?”

Not bothering to dignify that was a response—because of course not—Zane glanced away.

Which was apparently a mistake.

He was hauled out of his chair so quickly, his mind barely processed what was going on until his back slammed into the window, head whacking back against one of the metal panes. He hissed at the pain, bracing himself for a fight.

Pavel grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged his head to the side, exposing his neck, giving Zane only enough time to plant his hands on his hips, intent to shove him away, before he attacked again.

This time with his teeth.

Zane swore as the meaty part between his neck and shoulder was bitten, Pavel’s jaw clamping down hard enough to instantly break skin.

He dug his teeth into flesh and muscle, bracing himself against Zane as he fought and floundered to disengage and get free.

It all happened so fast, there wasn’t really anything he could do to stop it, and what could have been seconds or minutes later, he processed the chaos the room had broken out into. Students had shot away from them, some fleeing, and there were shouts and crying.

A louder voice came then, more demanding, a moment before Pavel was torn—quite literally—off of Zane.

Zane made another sound of pain as his flesh was ripped even more, then slammed a hand over the gaping wound, eyes blinking to take in the scene before him.

Madden, who’d been the one to remove Pavel, swung, his fist connecting hard with the other Retinue member's jaw. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

Berga, also known as the Butcher of the Brumal mafia, was there as well, watching Zane closely with an unreadable expression. His boyfriend noticed and waved at him.

“Butcher, baby, could you please not just stand there while my friend bleeds out?” Madden heaved in frustration.

“If your goal was to minimize the damage, you should have removed Pavel Hart more delicately.” Berga stepped up to Zane, voice dropping an octave to say, “If you’d like, I could—”

“I’m perfectly capable of making his insides appear on his outside myself,” Zane cut him off, knowing exactly where the offer was going. “But thank you.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. You’re going to need stitches.”

Zane still had the wound covered, so there was no way for anyone to be one hundred percent sure of that fact aside from him, and yet… “Yes. I believe that’s the case.”

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Madden demanded from Pavel, keeping himself between the two of them, though he’d tossed the other member far enough he was practically in the center of the room.

The now very empty room.

Had Madden ordered everyone else to leave? As the second in command, managing situations was sort of his job, so it wouldn’t surprise Zane if he had. Though he’d never had to worry about infighting before, and certainly not from Pavel. He looked just as surprised as Zane must have last night, like the person in front of him was a stranger.

Or just very, very good at hiding their true nature.

Berga touched Zane’s wrist, about to ease it off and check, but paused when that earned him a warning growl from Pavel. “Well. That’s interesting.”

“It is not,” Madden disagreed vehemently. “And you better stop with the death glares, P, or I’m going to have to take that as a threat against my—”

“Tell your boyfriend to back off,” Pavel said.

Zane rolled his eyes. “Oh, enough. I’m in serious pain over here, so if you could just shut the fuck up and stop acting like an alpha hothead, that’d be the most useful thing you could do for me all week.” A thought occurred to him then. He’d meant it as a passing statement but… “You aren’t, right?”

The guy could shapeshift and had glowing eyes. Hell if Zane knew what he was. There was always the chance Pavel had been hiding that aspect of his DNA from them as well.

There were planets where species like that existed, ones that still operated on an alpha, beta, omega system, but Vitality was not one of them. It would line up, though. Pavel did own a sex club, and last night he’d gone on and on about wanting to breed Zane, so maybe—

“No,” Pavel stated.

Oh. “So then why the hell did you bite me?”

“You bit me first.”

“I did not!” Shit. Wait. Was the guy referring to last night when he’d bitten his tongue? The severity of these injuries were so not the same!

“Fine,” he shrugged like it didn’t matter to him what Zane believed. “Then I did it to make a point.”

Madden frowned and glanced between the two of them, seemingly piecing something together.

Something Zane did not want misunderstood.

“He’s full of shit,” Zane told him. “There’s nothing—”

“He’s mine,” Pavel said. “The Prince of Medicine is mine.”

“This just got incredibly fascinating.” Berga tilted his head and then turned to Madden. “Will you tear my throat open with your teeth as well? I would also like to feel wanted.”

Zane gaped at him and then snapped his fingers to get his attention. “First of all, it wasn’t my actual throat because then I’d be dead. Second of all, there is nothing attractive about this. Look at me!” He moved his palm enough to show him, feeling the trickle of blood instantly roll down to his chest, seeping into his shirt. “There is nothing attractive about being mauled in the middle of class.”

“I don’t know,” Berga disagreed. “Someone wanting me badly enough they need the entire school to know about it? It’s kind of hot.” His gaze filled with mirth, and Zane was glad no one else could see with the way the Butcher was turned toward him. “Admit it. You and I are more alike than anyone gives us credit for. If I find it a turn on…”

Zane grunted but didn’t deny it. Berga had spoken quietly enough the words would stay between the two of them anyway, and because of that, he didn’t feel the need to put on a strong front.

Because the Butcher was right. As pissed as he was from the pain and the fact that he’d now need to take time out of his busy day to get patched up, there was a tiny part of Zane that was…intrigued.

He’d thought for sure the romp through the woods was a random act of violence and he’d just been the unlucky target. But if Pavel was here, returning for seconds…

No.

He shoved those fucked up feelings down. It didn’t matter how much that inner voice of his purred at the idea of real, unfiltered attention from someone. Zane was not about to let himself be controlled by his messed-up urges.

He had too much at stake for that. Actual security he could rely on so long as he got through the rest of the school year and graduated.

Pavel’s feigned attention was thrilling, but it wasn’t tangible.

The guy would get sick of him once he’d had his fill, just like everyone else.

Madden pinched the bridge of his nose, most of the tension draining from his shoulders now that he believed this had just been a sex thing gone wrong. “You’ve been talking to Lake, haven’t you?”

Lake was a Retinue member from another planet who’d recently returned home.

Zane frowned, but a second later it became apparent he’d meant the question for Pavel.

“I was curious how it would be to try it out myself,” Pavel replied.

“Try what out exactly?” Zane demanded, not liking being left in the dark.

“On Tulniri,” Madden began, mentioning the planet their friend Lake Zyair lived, “there used to be this mating bite thing.”

“Similar to the alpha omega claiming you mentioned in jest earlier,” Berga not so helpfully added, pressing a piece of gauze he’d magically produced from one of the pockets on his lab coat to Zane’s injury.

“Apparently Lake bit someone back home and now the guy is forced to be his Royal Consort or whatever,” Madden finished.

“What is with Imperial Princes forcing people into becoming their Royal Consort?” Zane made sure his disappointment was clear in his tone. Kelevra had done the same with Rin, trapping the man in a relationship he wasn’t ready for. It’d all worked out in the end, but still.

“Don’t pout, gorgeous,” Pavel drawled, waiting until Zane met his gaze. “It’s your turn to be captured and chained.”

He huffed, mostly to cover up the shock of electricity that pinged down him at that comment. “Hate to break it to you, but this isn’t Tulniri. This,” he twirled a finger at his wound, “doesn’t mean anything here.”

“Tell that to the rest of campus.” Pavel grinned. “I bet they’re already abuzz.”

“This is starting to sound a lot like something we shouldn’t be involved in,” Madden said, only for Zane to shake his head.

“Absolutely not. This is exactly the type of thing you should be involved in because I am not interested in being owned like some pet.” He flung a hand out toward Pavel. “Especially not by him.”

Berga chuckled, winking when Zane set his glare on him, though his fingers never faltered as he dabbed at the wound. “You need stitches. Should I do them?”

“It’s not like I’m going to trust Madden with it,” Zane stated, settling more comfortably against the chilled panes of glass. He didn’t have to tell Berga where the kit could be located, since the Butcher took classes in this room as well.

“I can do it,” Pavel offered, only for all three of them to glare his way, even Berga.

Which was uncharacteristically nice of the Butcher.

“As soon as this stops hurting,” Zane promised, “I’m going to pick up that dagger and slash you across the gut with it.”

“I can think of other parts of me I’d prefer you play with.”

Madden blinked at the two of them. “No but really. What’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” Zane insisted, only for Pavel to snort. “Do you really think they’ll side with you if I tell them to get you out of here?” he asked the infuriating man.

“I think,” Pavel replied, “that you had an entire weekend to get rid of me if that’s what you truly wanted, gorgeous.”

He scowled. “That’s twisted logic.”

Though it would be a lie to say he hadn’t considered it. Murdering the other man had been practically all he’d thought about all weekend.

That, and questioning why his dick kept getting hard whenever he replayed Friday night's events. Minus the whole being left in the dirt bit.

“I’m a twisted individual, ” Pavel said.

“Your sociopath is showing,” Berga chided, though it was clear from his movements as he continued to dress Zane’s injury that he was in a good mood.

“Takes one to know one,” Pavel returned, and Zane couldn’t help but stare at the both of them, probably in a mimic of the look Madden had just given him and the other Retinue member.

“Do you two…like, know each other?” he asked, the question stupid but off his lips before he could help it. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I mean, do you actually hang out, or something?”

Madden laughed and Zane frowned. “Karmic justice.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he admitted.

“He used to get jealous about us,” Berga leaned in and explained.

“About us?”

“Why?” Pavel tipped his head. “Nothing has ever happened between the two of them.”

It was the confident way he spoke that seemed to remind them all what they were really doing there.

“Whatever is going on between the two of you—or not going on,” Madden added when Zane went to open his mouth, “figure it out somewhere else. This is Vail campus and you’re drawing way too much attention to things that should remain in the shadows.”

Berga hummed his agreement. “We have a reputation to uphold, boys. We’re supposed to appear scary but not actually do anything publicly to prove we’re dangerous. Especially you,” he poked the needle he’d been using to stitch up the bitemark a bit harder to emphasize, “Everyone covets you because you seem the most rational. Don’t ruin it for them.”

“You mean,” Zane surmised, “don’t cause everyone to take a closer look at how messed up the rest of you are by losing their attention.”

“Devotion would be a better word, but yes.” When Zane grunted, Berga clicked his tongue. “I’ve never received snacks or presents from other students. As far as I know, neither has Baikal or Flix.” He stilled and then straightened to turn and send a look over his shoulder at his boyfriend. “Do you receive presents at the Academy?”

“No, baby,” Madden reassured. “That’s not really something soldiers in training do.”

There were three major schools on the planet, with the majority of the Retinue and Satellite spread between them. Since Kelevra attended the Academy, a training facility for military and police, Madden also attended. More of them should have ended up there, but Zane needed a medical degree and Pavel and Ledger were studying business.

“This isn’t even your school,” Zane pointed out. “What are you doing here?”

“Picking up the Butcher for lunch. Duh. And you’re lucky I did otherwise vampire wannabe over here might have kept chomping.”

“I wasn’t going to hurt him,” Pavel said, then shrugged when they all turned to him incredulously. “I wasn’t going to hurt him more than I already did. Not here, anyway. If you inflict too much pain at once, there’s no time between to soothe and enforce trust.”

“Wow,” Berga sounded impressed. The shithead.

Madden on the other hand scowled. “So that’s it? You’re not even going to try to hide what you are anymore?”

“What is he?” Zane really, really wanted to know.

“Insane, clearly.” Meaning Madden didn’t have a real clue either.

Zane needed to discuss this with Kelevra, but…He wouldn’t necessarily say the Imperial Prince cared about him—because he wasn’t capable of caring about much, and what caring he could muster, he reserved for Rin. Still, he considered Zane a good friend. If he told him about all of this, would Kelevra do something to Pavel?

Did Zane want him to do something to the other Retinue member?

When Berga had offered, Zane had automatically shut him down without much thought. But now that he was aware of it, he couldn’t help but wonder.

Surely he was better than a few wild orgasms? Surely he wasn’t really turned on by this small act of possessiveness? An act that had resulted in his flesh being torn and the rest of the student body left terrified.

Wait.

Zane’s eyes narrowed and of course Pavel noticed.

“Public displays of affection are effective.” Pavel wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, drawing Zane’s attention to the smears of blood on his face.

Fortunately, the sound of rushing footsteps put an end to their discussion a second before Ledger shot into the room. His gaze landed on his brother, taking in the blood quickly before he turned to look at Zane and winced. “Shit.”

“Brother, shouldn’t you be in the music wing right now?” Pavel asked, slipping his hands into his front pockets when that had Ledger glowering.

“Have you lost your mind?” Ledger hissed. “I just heard the entire sophomore band talking about how you attacked the Prince of Medicine!”

Pavel seemed far too pleased with himself, sending a wink Zane’s way. “Effective.”

“Get out here!” Ledger demanded, not seeming the least bit amused. “We’re going home. Now. You need—”

All of the humor and self-satisfaction drained away from Pavel so quickly, if any of them had blinked, they surely would have missed it. He straightened to his full height, eyes taking on that same yellow gleam.

Even the Butcher tensed at Zane’s side, sensing the same danger the rest of them were.

Just how many different personalities did this guy have? He’d never seen Pavel look at anyone like that, let alone his own brother.

“I need,” Pavel sneered, “my bashert. Nothing else.”

Ledger flinched. “We agreed you would wait until graduation.” He sent a nervous glance in Zane’s direction, but quickly tore it off of him when Pavel growled.

“I said I’d wait until the timing was right,” he corrected. “The timing is now.”

“Don’t fight with your brother,” Zane wasn’t sure why he was getting involved. It most definitely didn’t concern him, yet he found himself unable to sit there and remain quiet. “You two never fight. That’s like the only thing I like about you.”

That wasn’t entirely honest. It wasn’t necessarily that he liked that about Pavel.

He was envious of it.

Semantics.

Pavel turned back to Zane, thinking it over. “All right, Doctor. Don’t fret. We’re not fighting.”

“I wasn’t—” He pinched the bridge of his nose. He shouldn’t have said anything. “Forget it. Tear each other’s throats out for all I care.”

“And sully the taste of your blood in my mouth?” Pavel shook his head. “Not a chance.”

Zane dropped his hand just as Berga finished stitching him up. A million questions ran through his mind, but there was only one that he’d been unable to shake all weekend. “What are you?”

“Yours.” Pavel seemed to calm. “And you’re mine.”

He didn’t give Zane a chance to argue. Just like he had back at the abandoned house in the middle of the woods, Pavel walked away from him without a second glance.

It took all of Zane’s willpower not to go after him and punch him in the aristocratic nose.

With his star crystal blade.