Page 32 of Royal Beast (Royals of the Underworld #1)

KELLAN

“ H ey, kiddo,” I say, leaning down to Rose’s level. She’s sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, her stuffed rabbit tucked under one arm, watching cartoons. “What do you think about spending the whole day with me today? Just you and me?”

Her eyes light up, and she clutches the rabbit tighter. “Really?”

I nod, ruffling her hair. “Really. We could watch movies, have snacks, maybe even eat ice cream for breakfast if you promise not to tell your mom.”

She giggles, and the sound melts something inside me. “Okay! Can we watch Moana ?”

“Of course,” I say, already resigned to another round of her favorite movie. Whatever I can do to make her happy, right?

I sink onto the couch, coffee in hand, feeling the rare calm of a day without work. Darcy’s still at the hospital with Max, and while I wish I could be there to support her, I know she needs space right now. Besides, Rose deserves a quiet, fun day too.

The peace lasts all of ten minutes.

My phone buzzes on the coffee table, Rory’s name flashing across the screen. I grab it with a sigh, already bracing for whatever crisis he’s dragging me into. “What?”

“Morning to you too,” Rory says, his tone clipped. “I need you at the office.”

“Not happening,” I say flatly. “I’m spending the day with Rose. Find someone else.”

“It’s not optional, Kellan. I need you to come in. We have issues to discuss. Russian related issues.”

I grind my teeth, shooting a glance at Rose. She’s humming along with the movie, completely unaware of my rising frustration. “Rory, I need to be home right now. Darcy’s father is in the hospital and I’m staying with Rose to look after her.”

“I’m sorry for everything going on,” Rory says, though he doesn’t sound particularly sorry. “But I need you. I’m going to send Clary over. She can watch Rose for a couple of hours, but this is an all-hands-on-deck situation.”

“Fine,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’ll see you soon.”

Rory hangs up, and I toss the phone onto the couch, muttering a curse under my breath. Rose glances over, her brow furrowed.

“Do you have to go, Kellan?”

I crouch down in front of her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Just for a little while, okay? Miss Clary is going to come and hang out with you. Is that alright?”

Rose nods, but her smile wavers. “Will you come back soon?”

“Promise,” I say, tapping her nose lightly.

Clary arrives soon after, her bright energy filling the room as she steps inside. “Hello, Miss Rosie! I can’t wait to watch Moana . Did you know I’ve never seen it before?”

Rose jumps up, excitement in her eyes at the prospect of introducing someone new to her favorite movie, and drags Clary over to the couch.

I feel a twinge of relief, hoping this will go smoothly, and grab my jacket, heading out the door. But when I step into the office, the relief turns to a feeling of dread when I see Rory’s face. He scrubs a hand over his eyes and shakes his head.

“It’s not great,” he admits. “But there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.”

I sink into the leather chair and prop my feet on his desk. “Lay it out for me.”

“Anatoly and I are in a stalemate at this point,” he reveals. “We have enough to bury each other but if we do, neither of us will come out unscathed. It’s a mutually assured destruction situation, Kells.”

“What’s our plan?” I ask, a prickle of fear running through me. This is the first time in a long time that we’ve been in a situation this bad with our rivals, not since Dad was head of the Family.

Rory sighs. “Anatoly wants a meeting.”

“Do you think that means he wants to back down?” I ask, frowning.

“Doubtful,” Rory says. “I think it could mean anything, but we should still go.”

“Is that the smartest idea?” I question, sitting upright. “We could be walking into a trap.”

“Maybe we need to call a family meeting,” Rory says, running a hand through his hair. “We can’t make this decision alone.”

It takes a half hour’s notice for everyone to start arriving.

Rory sits at the head of the conference room table, stiff as a board, hands clasped in front of him like he’s bracing for the storm to hit. I lean against the wall, arms crossed, trying to keep my own tension in check.

Liam’s the first to show up, his phone practically glued to his hand. He doesn’t even look up, probably texting that girl he’s been seeing. He’s been so hard to reach lately. All his time has been spent with that chick.

Lucky strolls in a minute later, his usual smirk absent. He tries to look relaxed, but I know him too well. The tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw’s set—it’s written all over him.

And then Alannah arrives. Her footsteps echo in the hallway, fast and determined, and a second later, she bursts through the door.

“All right,” she announces, striding straight to the empty chair at the end of the table. “What’s going on?”

I exchange a glance with Rory. Here we go.

“This doesn’t involve you, Lana,” Rory says, his tone calm but firm, like he’s already prepared for this fight.

Alannah’s eyes narrow, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Doesn’t involve me? How does this not involve me?”

“It’s about the Russians,” Rory says, his voice steady but clipped.

“Exactly,” she fires back. “So let’s talk about it.”

I can feel the tension rising, thick and suffocating. Rory leans forward, pinning her with that big-brother glare he’s perfected over the years. “Lana, this isn’t your fight. It’s for us to handle.”

She slaps her hands on the table, the sound echoing in the room. “Not my fight?” Her voice rises, sharp and indignant. “I’m a Brannagan, same as you. This is as much my fight as it is yours.”

“It’s not about your name,” Liam says, looking up from his phone, his tone calm but condescending. “It’s about experience. You don’t have it.”

“And you think I don’t know what Anatoly is capable of?” she snaps, her voice shaking with anger. “I know damn well what he can do. I can help.”

“You’re still a kid, Lana,” Lucky says, leaning back in his chair. There’s no humor in his voice, no softness. “You’re not ready for this.”

“That’s garbage,” she spits. “I’m nineteen. At my age, you were practically Dad’s right-hand man!”

I step forward, keeping my voice steady. “Lana, it’s not about capability. It’s about risk. You’re too important to us to gamble with. That’s all this is.”

Her eyes meet mine, and for a second, I see something beneath the fire—hurt. But it’s gone in an instant, replaced by cold determination.

“You’re all going to regret this,” she says quietly, her voice laced with steel. “When you finally realize I could’ve helped, it’ll be too late.”

She pushes her chair back with a screech and storms out, slamming the door behind her.

The silence she leaves behind is oppressive.

“She’s not wrong,” I finally say, breaking the tension. “We don’t give her enough credit.”

“She’s too impulsive,” Rory argues back, rubbing his temple. “This isn’t about underestimating her. It’s about keeping her alive.”

I sigh, but I can’t argue. Rory’s right.

“We need to focus,” Rory says, shifting gears. “Anatoly wants a meeting. Thoughts?”

I drop into a chair, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. “If he’s asking, it means he’s desperate or thinks he’s got the upper hand. Either way, this might be a chance to de-escalate.”

“Or a setup,” Liam counters, his voice flat. “He could be baiting us into a trap.”

“Maybe,” Lucky says, shrugging. “But ignoring him sends the wrong message. He’ll take it as disrespect, and that’ll make things worse.”

I can feel my blood start to boil at the way Lucky brushes off the risks. “We can’t just ignore this, Lucky. We’re already on the edge, and doing nothing won’t fix anything. I’m not about to sit back and wait for it to blow up in our faces.”

Liam rubs his jaw, his eyes flicking between us like he’s weighing something in his head.

“Kellan’s right,” he says slowly, his tone a little more hesitant now.

“But we can’t just walk into whatever Anatoly’s throwing at us without thinking about it.

We’ve got enough to worry about. Things that could get worse if we’re not careful. ”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap, already on edge. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it, Liam. We’re not gonna solve this by dancing around the truth.”

Liam’s gaze turns to the floor, and he pauses. His eyes flick up briefly, something unreadable in his expression. “I just think that some people might hurt if we rush into things, Kellan,” he mutters, low and dark. “Things I’d rather not happen.”

I try to push the frustration down, but it's boiling over. “That’s exactly why we need to act. You think staying stuck is better? What about everyone who’s counting on us to get this under control?

” I glance at Rory, hoping for some kind of support, but his face is set in that unreadable way he gets when he’s trying to be the peacekeeper.

Rory exhales sharply, his shoulders tense. “I’m with Kellan,” he says, looking at Liam like he’s not sure what to make of his hesitation. “But we need to control the terms. Neutral ground. Full security. No surprises. We set the rules. Not him.”

“But neutral doesn’t mean safe,” Liam points out. “And getting there could still be a risk.”

There’s a long silence, each of us locked in our thoughts.

“I say we do it,” I add, a finality in my voice. “Get in there. Get this done. Not on their terms, but ours.”

The room falls into silence again, each of us turning the risks over in our minds. My brothers exchange glances, their faces unreadable, but the tension between us is thick enough to cut.

“We meet,” Rory says finally. His voice is heavy, like he’s carrying the weight of all our lives on his shoulders. “But we do it smart. The second anything feels wrong, we pull out.”

I nod, but the anger and frustration haven’t fully left me. There’s still so much uncertainty, and I can feel the cold undercurrent of it running through us all.

“Then we get ready for whatever’s coming,” I mutter, more to myself than anyone else.

One by one, we nod.

I lean back in my chair, the tension in my chest easing just a little. The decision is made, but the unease lingers. Whatever is going to happen, it will take all our strength and courage to keep the situation contained. It won’t be easy.

Rory sends off a text to his contact in the Russians and we wait with bated breath, wondering what’s going to happen next. After a few tense moments of silence, the phone buzzes and he picks it up, the expression on his face hardening.

“Anatoly is asking to meet us, tomorrow morning at the same place. The diner outside of town. He asks that we leave weapons at the door but agrees that all four of us can attend as long as he can bring his top lieutenants,” he reads out.

We exchange glances, a silent agreement among us. We’re going to make sure that we’re protected, but as long as this isn’t a set-up, we’re going.

“Tell him we agree,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “Tomorrow morning. Eight o’clock. The diner. No weapons.”

And with that, we prepare to face off against an uncertain future, wondering if we’re doing the right thing.