The brothers could do nothing but wait.
Cole took the ball back and turned it slowly in his palm.
“Hear about X—the male who owns Bar X?”
“Yeah.” Dax’s jaw tightened. “He’s gone. Staff are trying to hold the place together, but no one has seen him since the last check-in.”
Malakai’s attention sharpened. His hands moved.
Gone—or hiding?
Dax lifted one shoulder, though the movement carried no ease.
“Either way, disappearing without a word isn’t like him.”
Cole leaned back against the counter.
“Feels like the start of something.”
“Feels like the end of something,” Dax corrected quietly.
Cole scoffed.
“X can handle himself. He’s probably lying low.”
Malakai set the whetstone aside.
If X is off the radar, there is a reason. He would not abandon his bar without one.
“If he’s in something deep, we deal with it,” Dax said. “Later.”
Malakai wiped the blade clean, his silver eyes narrowing.
If it becomes urgent, we step in. Right now, the woman in that room is unstable.
His hands paused before continuing.
Let’s hope the heretics are not tangled up in X’s disappearance too.
“One disaster at a time,” Dax muttered.
The matter settled between them.
X and Bar X could wait until morning unless new information forced their hand.
The heir was safe.
The stranger in the eastern suite was not.
Until her transition settled, nothing beyond the compound demanded more immediate attention.
Dax turned toward the dark window again. The kitchen flickered in its reflection—three brothers holding themselves still because there was nothing left to fight.
He hated waiting.
They all did.
* * *
