Page 7 of Devil May Hunt (The Devils of Vitality #8)

“Why do you think?”

“I think we had a one-night stand, and now that it’s over, there’s no reason for either of us to see each other ever again.

” Was that harsh? Brennon didn’t like being unkind, but he was cranky and, frankly, a bit miffed at himself and this man.

“Maybe don’t sleep with people who are too drunk to give rational consent.

I mean, I’m not blaming you. I understand I have to be responsible for my own actions, and I’m the one who chose to get plastered, but still. You can’t just—”

“If people take advantage of you, it’s their fault. Are you this chatty because you’re nervous?” the man tilted his head, deep in thought. “No, you were talkative during our mating as well.”

Brennon didn’t really like hearing it called that, but whatever. “I don’t really know what went on between us, other than the obvious, and I don’t really care. I’m sorry if I somehow gave you the wrong impression, but I’m not looking for anything serious.”

“Of course you aren’t,” he agreed, but before Brennon could sigh in relief, he lifted a hand and pressed against a spot almost on the back of Brennon’s neck.

“Ow!” He pulled away, cursing at the sudden pain at the spot where he’d touched. He slapped a palm over the area protectively, sucking in a breath when he felt torn skin. “What the hell is this?”

“I bit you.”

“You—” Brennon frowned. “Wait, you bit me? Why would you do that?” He scrambled to recall everything he knew about alphas.

“As far as I know, your kind only bite this deep when marking a mate.” Maybe they’d both been drunk.

“Is that why you followed me? Don’t worry about it.

I’m a Vital, so this doesn’t mean anything. ”

“You should stop talking now. It’s still too close to the end of my rut, my emotions aren’t fully stabilized. If you keep saying things like that, I might not be able to control myself.”

Brennon’s brow furrowed all over again.

“You’re confused,” the alpha surmised.

“No shit.”

“It’s not that hard to figure out. Are you slow, perhaps? That would be…unfortunate.”

“Did you just ask if I was stupid?” He huffed and got to his feet after all, clicking his tongue when the other man didn’t step back to give him room. “Move.”

“Get in the car.”

“What? Why would I do that?”

“So I can take you to see a doctor.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital. I have sun cream in my room. You aren’t listening, back off.”

“You’re the one who has a hearing problem.” The alpha captured him by the scruff of the neck and hauled him forward, ignoring Brennon’s yelp of pain from the movement. He sealed his mouth over his, forcing his tongue past his lips in a possessive kiss that ended almost as quickly as it began.

He dragged Brennon toward his car while the shock was still keeping him distracted, lifting him with a single arm when Brennon finally tried to resist when they were close. “You’ll hurt yourself. Stop squirming, you’re in no condition to fight.”

“Put me down, asshole!” He tried to knee him in the stomach but was dropped into the passenger seat of the hovercar before he could make a connection. “Stop!”

The alpha buckled him in and slammed the door shut. He’d already made it to the other side before Brennon could free himself, locking the doors and hitting the gas so they sped off back toward the main city.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? This is kidnapping! Do you have any idea who I am?” The Cree name held enough prestige on the planet that it should at least cause some hesitation before harming him.

“Yes, pretty love, I know exactly who you are.” The alpha glanced at him, then back at the road. “Do you know who I am?”

“A psycho?”

“I’ve been accused of that before,” he grunted. “But no.”

“I don’t care who you are. I don’t know how they do things wherever you’re from, but on Vitality, you can’t just kidnap someone you hooked up with one time.”

“It was over a dozen times.”

“That’s not—” Wait, wow, really? No. No. Not important. Brennon shook his head. “Dude, I’m serious. Stop the car and let me out, or you’ll regret it.”

“ Dude ?”

“What, you want respect? Why should I give you that? You’re taking me against my will!”

“I’m curious, why do you think I’ll regret it?”

“Because,” he licked his lips, “my best friend is the Royal Consort. He won’t let you get away with doing anything to me. He’ll get the prince involved.”

“Kelevra Diar? That prince?”

“Yes.”

He snorted. “Good. I’ll have to schedule a meeting with him anyway. Look at you, already being useful. I knew there was something about you that set you apart from the rest.”

That wasn’t the typical reaction someone had when they were threatened with Kelevra. The Imperial prince was pretty well known for being psychotic. He and his family ruled the planet alongside the Brumal mafia, and he could be every bit as brutal and unforgiving as a mafia member.

As a Royal, Brennon had grown up attending many of the same events as Kelevra, but the two of them had never gotten along.

His mother had wanted him to make friends so he could further their social standing, which meant he’d done the opposite just to spite her.

While others their age had become close to the prince and were now members of his Retinue, a prestigious position to hold, Brennon had remained on the sidelines.

He’d only gotten on Kelevra’s radar after the prince started pursuing Rin. Truthfully, Kelevra would probably be glad if something horrible happened to Brennon, but for Rin’s sake, he would help him if asked.

“Why do you have to meet with him?” Brennon knew he should keep his mouth shut and keep insisting he be let out of the car, but curiosity got the better of him.

“I have to announce myself,” the alpha explained.

“Why would you have to do that?” He leaned further away, resting his shoulder against the door, and then eyed him suspiciously. Unless they were super important, not even visiting Royals had to announce themselves to the ruling family.

“Because,” the alpha told him, “I’m Imperial Gunho Idris.”

Brennon blinked at him. “As in…Imperial Gunho Idris, fourth in line for the Glyph throne? Imperial Gunho Idris dubbed the God of Death ? That Imperial Gunho Idris?”

“Yes.” He grinned, and it was too fierce and far too possessive a look for Brennon’s liking. “You know about me. I’m flattered.”

Glyphians were considered peaceful, hard-working people who’d built their society on structure and respect for all proclivities. If he’d had to accidentally get involved with an alpha from any planet, Glyph was probably the only one where there’d be little to no worry about the morning after.

Brennon should have been able to shake this man’s hand and walk away. If he’d been any other alpha from Glyph, that’s probably what would have happened.

But he just had to drunkenly fuck Gunho Idris. The Gunho Idris who had a reputation for being cold-hearted, had been nicknamed the God of Death, and had grown up on Synastry instead of his home world.

Where things like forced claims and mating bonds weren’t just accepted, they were encouraged.

He was drowning again, he could feel it. Feel the waters closing in on all sides. Pressing heavily on his ribs.

If Brennon feared being left out and forgotten before, it would only be worse with this man. This man who would use, abuse, and discard him as soon as the novelty of a shiny new toy wore off. Imperial’s didn’t fuck around. They took, they broke, and they left carnage in their wake.

And Gunho wasn’t just Imperial.

He was an alpha .

Did he think he could force Brennon into being his momentary bitch of the month?

“Nope.” Brennon unclipped his belt, popped the locking mechanism on his door, and shoved it open mindlessly.

Better to become actual roadkill than spend another moment in here with a man whose nickname rivaled those dubbed the Devils of Vitality.