Page 15 of Devil May Hunt
“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 theGod of Death?ThatImperial 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 analpha.
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.
Chapter 5:
“He’s got a fucking death wish. Don’t let him out of your sight.” Gunho had half a mind to chain him to the bed, but his research told him the Cree family valued appearance and social status.
So he’d wait until the two of them were alone again before he tied his pretty lover up and punished him for that serious stunt he’d pulled on the street.
If Gunho had been even a second slower, he wouldn’t have been able to grab Brennon’s arm and haul him back into the car in time. He’d swerved and almost crashed, but fortunately had regained control of the vehicle. His anger was palpable, and if this had been Synastry, he would have turned his pretty lover over, stripped him bare, and fucked him on the hood of the car for everyone passing by to see.
But this wasn’t Synastry. It wasn’t even his galaxy.
He had to be careful.
