Page 23 of Devil May Hunt (The Devils of Vitality #8)

Gunho was lounging on the king-sized bed, flipping through a magazine mindlessly. He’d been kept waiting for forty-seven minutes, which had to be a record, and he’d regretted allowing his mate to bathe alone every second of it.

He’d helped him run the bath, had poured in enough healing salts to ease battle injuries, and had agreed to step out afterward and wait.

He wouldn’t have, if it hadn’t been obvious that his mate needed a moment alone.

The confidence Brennon had been carrying through negotiations had fissured when they’d stepped into the room and his eyes had landed on the bed, and he hadn’t been able to hide it.

The last thing he wanted was for his pretty lover to fear him, or their inevitable intimacy. He could admit he’d maybe been a bit…harsh with how he’d handled things, but he wasn’t going to apologize for taking what he wanted.

The drug wouldn’t turn Brennon into a true omega, but it would tie him to Gunho in a similar fashion and, for now, that was enough to satisfy these wild urges within him that demanded he lay claim to what was his. The rest, he could be patient and wait for.

Like love.

On the one hand, he understood how greedy it was of him to want or expect that from a man he’d all but forced into being with him. On the other…Gunho had every intention to make it as difficult for Brennon as possible to deny him that. That could develop naturally.

He’d love him eventually.

Gunho couldn’t say for certain what he felt toward his mate was love either.

He wanted him, enjoyed his company, and cared for him, absolutely.

But love? Love was such a strong word. Love couldn’t be forced or bought.

It was the only thing he’d never be able to steal, and that drove him mad with doubt and worry.

But he couldn’t focus on his own negative emotions, not when Brennon so clearly needed his attention.

The cadet finally stepped from the bathroom, dressed in a pair of low-hanging black sweatpants and a loose t-shirt that belonged to Gunho. He was drying his hair with a towel, and his eyes momentarily flicked to his before darting away, pretending to take in the room.

He was nervous. Wary.

Gunho set the magazine aside. “Come here.”

Brennon’s shoulders tensed and he shook his head.

“It’s late,” he said. “You should get some rest.”

“I’m not staying in here with you.” Brennon motioned toward the door but had the good sense not to move toward it. “There’s got to be another room. I’ll stay there.”

“We’re mated,” he reminded. “We sleep together.”

“I agreed to live with you, not—”

“You also agreed to come when I call.” Gunho lifted a hand and held it out. “So come, pretty lover.”

He’d train him so that eventually they wouldn’t have to waste time like this.

He’d show him there could be trust between them, that there was no reason to distance himself.

In the past, Gunho had been unable to prove that to his father, or his grandfather.

Hadn’t been able to win their favor or gain their acceptance.

But he’d do it this time. With Brennon.

Unfortunately, they weren’t quite there yet.

“If you’re going to be like this and fight me anyway,” Gunho made a big show of uncurling from the bed, “I may as well take what I wanted downstairs.”

“Wait.” Brennon blew out a breath and then gave in with a curse. “Fine. Whatever.” He walked over, sticking to the outskirts of the bed until he was at the other side and there were no other options available to him but to climb on.

As soon as he was seated, Gunho reached for him, dragging him across the mattress, chuckling when he put up a struggle.

He repositioned so he was sitting in the center of the bed, his back propped against the headboard, his squirming mate between his legs.

His arms banded around his chest and waist, tugging him against his front, and he dropped his chin to Brennon’s right shoulder and waited for him to settle.

It didn’t take long. Eventually, Brennon huffed and deflated, his body going lax in Gunho’s hold.

He purred appreciatively and nuzzled the side of the cadet’s neck, sure to keep the touch soft and not sexual. He had to show him they could touch without it turning into anything erotic. That they could coexist and lean on each other. That it wouldn’t always be about satiating lust.

“How was your bath?” he asked, keeping his voice quiet. “Do you feel any better?”

Brennon hesitated and then finally admitted, “Yeah. It was fine.”

“Would you like me to call you out of training tomorrow?” Gunho hushed him when he tensed.

“Relax, it was on offer, not a threat. I won’t keep you from your studies if that’s what you want.

Although, I am curious, why bother staying at the Academy if you plan on taking control of Cree Cosmetics anyway? ”

“I made a promise,” Brennon said. “A friend and I are going to open our own special forces unit.”

He frowned. “How will that work? On my planet, those are strictly government-run.”

“The Brumal and Imperial family enlist their own special forces,” he explained.

“If I can offer enough financial backing, my friend and I will be welcomed into whichever program he chooses, and we can go from there. He wants to head his own unit, so we’ll develop an individual task force from within. It’s fairly simple.”

“Yes,” he drawled. “Sounds like.”

It sounded like they’d have to work their way up, same as every other soldier, but he didn’t burst Brennon’s bubble. Especially when he got the sense there wasn’t cause for it.

“This isn’t something you really want,” he dared guess. “Your friend wants it, but you’re just going along for the ride.”

Brennon shrugged. “So?”

“Your plans are different now, aren’t they? Now that I’ve guaranteed your place at Cree Cosmetics. I’m sure your friend will understand.”

“I could always supply funding…I have been thinking about it. But Daylen…I don’t have many friends. The fact he wanted to do this with me at all is a big deal. I don’t want to let him down.”

A thread of jealousy wriggled to life within him, but Gunho pushed it away. “Are you lonely, pretty lover?”

“What?” He snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone likes me. You’ve read my files.”

“Everyone has nice things to say about you,” he agreed, “but few had personal things to say. How many people actually know you, the real you, I wonder?”

“How many people know the real you?” he countered.

“Don’t get upset. I don’t mean any harm.”

“Calling me a loser isn’t harmful?”

“You’re reading too far into things. Putting words in my mouth is a surefire way to make us both look like assholes.

I’m simply trying to understand. You admitted you always wanted the company, but you’re willing to spend another two years training at an intense military academy, all so you can keep a promise to a friend?

If our roles were reversed, what would you say to me? ”

Brennon took a moment to actually consider his words.

Was that progress?

He also hadn’t attempted to pull away again, seemingly content in Gunho’s embrace. The bath and giving him space had clearly been good moves. As much as he wanted to be near him twenty-four-seven, Gunho made a mental note to take his mate’s comments about control to heart.

If this was going to work, really work, they both needed to learn to compromise and respect each other.

“I’d probably tell you to stop being stupid,” Brennon finally replied. “Two years is a lot of time to waste. But the thing is, it’s not just because of that promise. If I quit the Academy, I might not see my friends again.”

“Why?” He drew his knees up on either side of him.

“They’d still be busy with training, and I…?” He tipped his head back, waiting for Gunho to pull away enough that their eyes could meet. “What would I be doing? Would I have to enroll at Vail University?”

“Would you want to?” Gunho shrugged a single shoulder. “Your mother informed me that she raised you with the intention to pass over the company when you came of age. You already know everything you need to know to run the place.”

“She told you that?”

“We spoke at length about you during the turnover. She’s disappointed you decided you didn’t want it, but she doesn’t dislike you, Brennon. On the contrary, she expressed regret. She feels that if she hadn’t been so strict with you growing up, perhaps you would have made a different choice.”

Brennon’s brow furrowed.

“Was she strict?” Gunho asked.

“I mean…I had to spend every day after school from elementary on at the company learning under her secretary. And weekends weren’t much different.

We’d raid the breakroom for lunch and get takeout for dinner most days.

She and my father would work, and I’d do my homework and then learn over their shoulders. ”

He pursed his lips. “That sounds like the definition of strict. You weren’t allowed to go anywhere else?”

“I didn’t really have friends to hang out with anyway.”

“Because you weren’t given the chance to make them.

” If Brennon was forced to spend that much time at the company, it hadn’t left much room for after-school activities or hobbies.

No wonder his only plan after graduation was to piggyback on someone else’s dream.

“You went through all of that, made all of those sacrifices to your social life, only to overhear them talking about how they didn’t believe in you? ”

Gunho tightened his arms around him, clutching him close. If he’d known this sooner his talk with his parents would have gone much differently. “I’m sorry. That was cruel of them.”

“You’re right,” Brennon didn’t sound happy about it, “I should have confronted them instead of being a brat. I painted myself into a corner. I guess I sort of hoped after making them suffer for a few years thinking their company would have to pass off to someone else, I’d just step in.”

“That is foolish,” he said. “They would have found someone else by then.”

“I know.” He dropped his head back against Gunho’s chest. “This is…nice. You’re not so bad when you’re not trying to dick me down or force me to be with you.”

“You already are with me.”

“Yeah.” Brennon grunted. “That’s true.”

“Are you sad?”

“Would it bother you if I was?”

“Yes.”

He thought it over. “I’m not sad, Be’tessi. I’m just…tired.”

“Let’s go to sleep then.” Gunho knew that’s not what he meant, but it was late, and they’d made progress. He didn’t want to risk furthering their discussion and doing something that could damage their relationship.

Brennon had other ideas, however.

He grabbed onto Gunho’s arms and leaned back when he went to move. “No, tell me about you. Tell me what it was like growing up on a foreign planet. Did you have friends?”

It wasn’t a topic he often shared, but found himself settling, slipping into conversation about how lonely it’d been at first, and how discarded by his family he’d felt. He spoke about the people he’d gotten close to, many of them taken in the war, and those who remained.

It was strange, having someone to confide in like this, someone who sat there quietly and listened without judgment or interruption. He could almost believe that Brennon actually cared.

But he knew better than to hope for that so soon. There was a lot he needed to make up for. And he would. From here on out, his focus would be on becoming the best partner his pretty lover could ask for.