Not a second later, Ternin shoved Syris sideways with enough force to make him trip over his feet. Luckily, he used his wings to keep from falling on the ground.
“Move,” he barked before hooking an arm around my shoulders and hauling me out of the chair like I weighed nothing.
Giving Syris the stink eye, he loudly grumbled, “You don’t have to tell that old fool anything,” then he steered me a few steps away from the others.
He leaned in close. “But…” His voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper. “If you gave your tata just a little tiny hint about when the wedding is going to happen, I could start planning the gift now and make it spectacular.”
His chin went up proudly. “You knowI’mthe best gift giver. Ask your sisters.”
I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to stop the eye roll threatening to escape.
Nova kept the horrifying ten-foot granite statue he gifted her buried somewhere deep in the woods behind her estate. The thing depicted him dramatically slitting the throat of an enemy who suspiciously resembled Syris.
Before I could answer, Manic appeared beside us like a wrecking ball. His massive hand slammed against my back hard enough to knock the air straight from my lungs.
“Don’t let these idiots pressure you,” he boomed while I wheezed through the impact. “A little mystery never hurt anybody.” He wiggled his brows, trying to put me at ease, I think, but it had the opposite effect. My grandfathers were a bunch of psychos.
“Leave him alone,” Grandfather Easton said smoothly from across the room.
All three of them turned to look at him. He stood near one of my worktables, and in his hand, he was thoughtfully turning a small silver cube between his fingers. My stomach dropped as soon as I realized what he was holding.
Oh no.That was a protection prototype. It shot out a forcefield in an instant, insulating the holder against any living being, pushing them away at least a hundred feet. Looking around, I knew we didn't have a hundred feet worth of room.
“Don’t press the button on the side,” I snapped before I could stop myself.
Syris drew in a sharp breath, Ternin shook his head, and Manic’s gaze bounced between me and my grandfather.
Easton’s eyes slid toward me slowly, the silence stretching as he dropped the cube back onto the table with a thud.
“Boy,” he said calmly, “I was inventing weapons before you were a thought in your father’s balls.” All three of them chuckled as Easton took a step closer, the glint in his eye telling me I’d made a mistake.
I should’ve let him activate it. At worst, we all would’ve ended up crushed against opposite walls for an hour.
Instead, I had offended him, which was significantly more dangerous. Everything Easton did was calculated and so well-thought-out that all he needed was one punch to take you down.
He folded his arms neatly behind his back before looking toward the others with the patience of a disappointed king.
“What none of you seem to understand,” he drawled, “is that stunning woman upstairs and our idiot of a grandson arenottogether. So don’t sow your hopes on a lost cause.”
Fuck. That hurt.
Silence followed as every grandfather turned toward me at the exact same time. Four pairs of eyes widened, then narrowed, before all hell broke loose.
“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” Syris shrieked, his wings exploding outward so violently papers flew off my desk.
“What do you think you're doing? Do you think you have the time to be acting so irresponsibly? You’re like… a hundred years old!” he shouted, throwing his hands toward the ceiling.
“I’m thirty-one,” I muttered, but it didn't matter.
“Thirty-one!?” Ternin lunged into my space so fast I was forced to lean backward.
Face laced with outrage, he pointed directly in my face like I’d just shattered one of his favorite whiskey decanters.
“You think that’s young? Your mother was married by twenty-seven, and I gave her shit for that too!” he demanded. “What’s wrong with you? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one!”
Swiveling my head to the last one who could help me, my eyes desperately imploring Manic to support me. His bark was always worse than his bite.
That was apparently the wrong move because he was already staring at me, shaking his head and pursing his lips like I’d personally offended him.
