Page 66 of Roman

Romanwas…alarmed.

He was sitting at Danny’s kitchen table with Soren at his side, the both of them watching his mate rifle through the cabinets, mumbling something about needing alcohol.

It was barely past noon.

The boy had been vibrating with nervous energy since he’d met them in the hospital hallway, his brown eyes hard and his expression uncharacteristically unreadable. The only thing he’d said about his visit with Gabe was, “I told him everything.” He’d been silent ever since, other than his current mutterings.

Roman had offered to make him something to eat when they got back to the house, but Danny had refused with a firm, “No. Sit. Both of you.” Despite his demon’s anger at being refused the opportunity to care for their mate, Roman had obeyed, and Soren, to Roman’s surprise, had only raised an eyebrow before following suit. Another sign that Roman’s friend was not himself—compliance wasn’t usually his strong suit.

Roman raised his own eyebrow at what Danny finally pulled out when he found the right cabinet. “Whiskey?”

“Five o’clock somewhere, am I right?” Danny’s voice was flat.

Something was definitely off with Roman’s mate. Something other than the obvious fact of his injured brother.

“Let me make you—” Roman was cut off immediately, Danny shaking his head as he approached the table.

“No. No making. No cooking. No taking care of me right now. I don’t need pampering. I need answers.” He placed three shot glasses on the table and sat down across from the two vampires.

“Whiskey is mandatory for me but optional for you two.” Danny downed his shot, swiveling his head to glare at Soren. “You. Have you been stalking my brother?”

Soren sighed and threw back his own whiskey, wincing. “Define ‘stalking.’”

“Jesus Christ.” Danny rubbed a hand over his face. “Is this like some genetic thing, then? Some Kingman family trait that makes us vampire catnip?”

Roman broke in, unwilling to let whatever was going on with Soren make Danny second-guess their own connection. “I don’t think you can compare what Soren has been—”

“Luc told me you promised him forever,” Danny cut him off, fixing him with a look.

Roman was out of his chair in an instant. “What? When did you see Luc again? How?”

“He was at the hospital. We had a…chat.”

Soren swore. “I told you he might be luring the boy in.”

Roman didn’t need reminding. He had the brief urge to snap his friend’s neck. “How did you not realize he was already there?” he ground out through gritted teeth.

“I wasdistracted.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Danny waved a hand at both of them dismissively, taking another shot of whiskey. “Didn’t hurt me. But he told me to tell you,mate“—Roman didn’t like the bite with which Danny said that word—”that he expects you to keep your promises. And that was your promise, right? You and him by each other’s sides? Forever?”

Fuck Luc and his big goddamn mouth. “I told you: it was never romantic between him and myself. We were brothers.”

Danny laughed bitterly. It sounded wrong coming from Roman’s sweet mate. “You think that’s what I’m upset about? Romantic, platonic, I don’t care. You promised to be by his side. Just like—like you’ve promised to stay by mine.”

Roman tensed at the unspoken accusation:You don’t keep your promises. He suppressed the urge to shout in frustration, keeping his voice as calm as he could manage. “There were—how should I put this?—extenuating circumstances. As you well know.”

Danny poured more whiskey for himself, carefully avoiding Roman’s gaze, a move Roman was finding infuriating. How could he reassure his mate if he wouldn’t even look at him? “If you turned me and I turned out monstrous…became feral….would you abandon me like you abandoned him?”

Never.

“He tried tokillme, Danny. Twice. He kills humans regularly.”

Danny went on as if he hadn’t heard him. “Or do you not have any intention of turning me at all? Because you’ve never brought it up. A fact Luc really enjoyed shoving in my face.”

Danny’s gaze remained averted, but Roman could still see the glassiness of his eyes.

Merde. His mate was hurting. And it was his fault.

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