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If it’s possible, my brother’s complexion grows even more ashen, and his voice is shaking as he says, “Impossible. Where were Andrei, Radimir, and Stannis?”
“I’ll show you later if you like. I’m going back for their body parts when Zenya is asleep.” I relate to my brother how I returned to the city tonight and discovered from one of his men where I could find Zenya. I intended to watch her from afar for a day or two until I could talk to her alone, but she needed me sooner than I anticipated.
From the way I tell it to Troian, I was her knight in shining armor.
Troian drags his hand down his face, and for once, he’s lost for words. “I…thank you for saving her life, Kristian.”
“It was an honor and a privilege. You know I love my niece. I would do anything for her.” I step closer to my brother, tension radiating from my body. “You can threaten me with the Grim Reaper himself as my assassin, but after what I’ve seen tonight, I’m not leaving her side. She’s in too much danger.”
If the wolves are circling the Belyaevs in the hopes of toppling our power in this city, then Zenya’s going to get hurt without me. Troian’s not strong enough to protect her anymore, so that man will have to be me.
Troian glances at me uncertainly. He knows he needs me, but pride is preventing him from admitting it.
I make my expression sincere and put my hand over my heart. “I brought a dozen men with me. Loyal men who will do whatever I ask them to do, and that includes swear themselves to you. They’re yours. They’re Zenya’s. The two of you can command us as you please.”
“How did you find a dozen loyal men?”
I hear the scorn in my brother’s voice. He thinks I can’t inspire loyalty? I drop my hand from my heart and clench my jaw, but I manage to curtail my temper. “Do you think I’ve been doing nothing for two years? I’m a Belyaev. I always land on my feet.”
I found plenty of ways to make money in my temporary city. All I had to do was find a crew with a weak leader, crush him, and take over. I was doing so well that many men in my position would have stayed there.
“If you were doing so well, what is there for you back here?” Troian asks.
Everything.
There’severythinghere for me.
“I’m a Belyaev, and this is where I belong. I crave to leave my mark on the world as you have. I want a beautiful and clever wife. I need sons and daughters, and they should know where they came from.”
Zenya’s going to be that wife. Her body craves mine as much as I crave her. I’ll be the luckiest man on earth once my pretty niece wears my ring on her finger.
Troian considers me with a frown. “I always wanted you to be a family man, but I was beginning to think you’d stay a bachelor.”
I shrug as if it’s no big deal. I deserve an Oscar for my performance. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while, and I’ve decided that now is the time.”
Troian shakes his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe my little brother is going to settle down at last. Have you got a woman in mind?”
I rub my hand over my jaw, smirking at my brother. “I shouldn’t say just yet. I’ve only just started to make my move, and she’s going to need some persuading. But she’ll be mine in the end.”
Troian laughs. “You always could be charming when you put your mind to it.”
“I’m grateful for your confidence in me, brother,” I murmur with a smile. Zenya hasn’t witnessed one tenth of my charm. The poor girl doesn’t stand a chance. She’ll be looking at her uncle in a whole new light in no time, but that’s only if I can persuade Troian to allow me to stay.
My moment has arrived. I step forward and put both my hands on my brother’s bony shoulders and gaze deep into his eyes. “People need to rediscover their fear of the Belyaev family. Let me remind them who we are for you, and no one will dare touch a hair on our sweet girl’s head ever again.”
Making this about protecting Zenya works like magic, and my brother’s resolve to hate me shatters.
Troian glances past me. “We should talk to Zenya about this.”
I step back and hold out my arm, allowing him to lead the way. “You know I’m always happy to talk to Zenya.”
Troian insists he can manage the stairs on his own, and he laboriously puts the oxygen tank on one step before clambering up behind it. It’s slow going. By the time we reach the top of the staircase, his face has turned white and there are beads of sweat on his brow. He’s doing his best to hide how much of a struggle this is for him, so I do him the courtesy of pretending not to notice.
We pass Doctor Nader in the hall and he tells us that Zenya has a bad bruise, but nothing is broken or sprained, and she’ll be perfectly fine in a few days.
When Troian and I enter her bedroom, she’s sitting up in her canopied bed, wearing pajamas and a quilted dressing gown, and there’s an ice pack on her ankle. Her jewel-like blue eyes flicker from her father’s face to mine, hungry to know what we’ve been discussing, but worried about it as well.
Troian sits down on the bed and pats Zenya’s uninjured ankle. “Your uncle told me what happened tonight. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. This was all my fault.”
