Dorian Mikos drank his wine and watched the car approach the house. He already knew who it contained. He’d been warned several hours ago that an unknown entity had zeroed in on his location. Said entity may be unknown to his security team, but he knew exactly who had come calling.

His wife, Anne, leaned against the railing. She was beautiful, even after all these years, the wind teasing her blond hair away from her face. Age had burned away the youthful curves of her body, leaving only a sterling strength behind. She didn’t look over. “He’s early.”

“Fear makes fools of even the best of men.” Dorian wouldn’t necessarily number Theodore Fitzcharles III among the best of men, but he brought more power to the table than most. He was a threat, and a large one. They’d spent six months watching him—watching all three of them—and considering their options. Thirty years ago, Dorian couldn’t have imagined that his only son would be Consort to the King of Thalania. If he had, he would have played things out differently.

Impossible to hold sway over Galen when the man was as likely to shoot him as listen to anything he had to say. The boy really took things too personally. Power was the only god Dorian worshipped, and everything was sacrificial when it came to the long game.

Including his son.

He glanced over his shoulder at the black-clad man standing just out of earshot. “Send him up when he arrives.” He waited for the man to nod and disappear before turning back to his wife. “We have to be careful with him. He doesn’t function the same way Galen does.” Their son divided up the world into black and white. It wasn’t anything so simplistic as good and evil—it was the people who mattered to him and those who didn’t. He might be moved to empathy for someone in danger, but he wouldn’t compromise the people he loved because of a bleeding heart. It made him hellishly hard to manipulate because he was either apathetic or steamrolled over every perceived threat he came across.

Theodore, on the other hand, appreciated nuance.

One didn’t come back from exile and ruin a perfectly good coup unless one was a threat.

Anne shifted, a signal that they were no longer alone. Dorian contemplated his wine and hid a smile. “What brings the King of Thalania to my humble home?”

He half expected the man to charge forward with accusations. Dorian should have known better. Theodore walked out onto the balcony and dropped into an empty chair. He picked up the bottle of wine and examined it. “Good vintage.”

“I appreciate the finer things in life.”

“Nothing but the best for you while you suffer out your exile.” Theodore made a show of looking around. “Suffering is a relative term, I suppose.”

Dorian shrugged a single shoulder. “I suppose it is.” He waited, but Theodore didn’t seem interested in filling the silence. Dorian wrapped a stranglehold around his impatience. This was nothing more than a game of conversational chicken, and he’d be damned before he broke first and gave Theodore the upper hand.

Theodore leaned back and propped a foot on his knee, every inch the king at home in his kingdom. It didn’t seem to matter that they weren’t on Thalanian ground or that he currently sat in what amounted to enemy territory. “Phillip’s doing well in prison. I know you were particularly concerned about your old partner in crime.”

He blinked. Where was he going with this? “I’m not sure what you’re implying.”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m stating it baldly. My uncle, the one whom you conspired with to keep me from the throne, is doing well in prison.” Theodore let both feet drop to the ground and leaned forward to brace his elbows on her knees. “I think it’s time we had a discussion. Don’t you?”

Galen lay in the dark and listened to Meg’s breathing. Such a little thing—an inhale, pause, an exhale. He’d never put much thought into it before. Even after the car crash that had knocked Theo out and cut Meg up, he’d never really thought either of them would die. He’d been too focused on the end goal: finding and eliminating the threat.

This time, he didn’t know who the threat was.

Someone had come into what amounted to their home and hurt their woman, and he was stuck here playing nursemaid while Theo went off and did… whatever the fuck he was doing. Taking risks was supposed to be Galen’s job. For so long, his entire purpose had boiled down to one prerogative—keep Theo safe. Six months wasn’t enough to undo years’ worth of thought process. He didn’t want to undo it. No one was better than Galen at keeping Theo from harm. Not even Kozlov, though he was at least mostly capable.

Galen closed his eyes, and immediately opened them again. There would be no sleep tonight, not with him counting Meg’s every breath and listening intently for the door to open and Theo to return safely.

He should have gone with him. Watched his back.

But if he’d gone, who would have taken care of Meg?

Fuck, this wasn’t his deal. He never bothered to be pulled in different directions, because his momentum had only one direction. Galen preferred to operate like that. Life was messy, as Meg was so fond of reminding him. Shit got tangled and emotions made them all act like damn fools. He loved Meg, and he wanted her safe. He loved Theo, and he wanted to keep his friend’s ass out of danger.

Hours later, right as the first rays of dawn edged through the windows, the door opened. Even in the darkness, Theo appeared to have aged a decade. He ran his hand over his face and headed toward the bathroom. Galen could let him go, he could pretend to sleep and put off an uncomfortable conversation for a few more hours.

But then, Galen had never been the type to run from a fight.

He waited until the bathroom door closed, and then he carefully edged out from beneath Meg. A few seconds to ensure she was tucked in tight beneath the blankets, and then he stalked to the bathroom and slipped inside. Theo stood with his hands braced on the marble countertop, his head hanging loose between his shoulders. “I have good news and I have bad news.”

“What’s the bad news?” Better to take the hit head on instead of wasting the time bracing for it.

Theo didn’t look up. “Your father is behind the attack on Meg. I don’t have proof, but—”

“Fuck.” Galen strode to the shower and flipped the water on. The sound wouldn’t completely mask their conversation, but Meg needed her sleep and with the pills in her system, she could wait to be looped in until she woke up. “Tell me you didn’t do some fucking bullshit like seek Dorian out and talk to him.”

Theo lifted his head and gave a wan smile. “We needed to know.”

“If you needed someone to run interference, I am the appropriate option, you jackass. He’s my fucking father, and I’m the only one who is guaranteed to be able to walk into his presence and back out again.” Probably.

Theo finally turned to lean against the bathroom sink and crossed his arms over his chest. “That was true before. There’s no reason to think it’s true now.” He hesitated the barest breadth of a second. “And, fuck, Galen, I know what seeing him does to you. I couldn’t do a damn thing about it when I was exiled, but I can do something about it now. If that means I take on a little risk, then so be it.”

“A little risk.” Galen might laugh if he wasn’t in danger of throttling his friend. “A little fucking risk.” He stalked closer. “Do you know what he does to people he has under his control?”

Theo’s gaze flicked to Galen’s bare chest, to the scars that marked his skin. “You know I do.”

“You are the goddamn king, Theo.”

“I’m aware.” Theo grabbed his shoulders, the relative pain of his fingers digging into Galen’s skin grounding him. He leaned in. “And if you think I’m going to let him near you if I have any other choice, you’re a fucking idiot.”

God, he loved this arrogant fool of a man. It didn’t stop him from wanting to strangle Theo, but love and fear danced together in his chest, a confusing combination that had never been so strong as it was in that moment. “You took Kozlov.”

“I took Kozlov and another three of his men that he trusts implicitly. They had a sniper set up before I ever walked into the house, and the entire meeting took place on the balcony.”

Smart of Dorian. He wanted the King of Thalania’s attention, and he’d ensured that nothing would hold Theo back from coming to him. It’s what Galen would have done if he wanted to lay a trap, a spider sitting in the middle of a web of its own making. He sighed. He could keep arguing about this until he was blue in the face, but the end result was that Theo went, and now he was back. “Do not do that shit again, Theo. Promise me.”

“No.” Theo squeezed his shoulders. He looked away, and then back at Galen. “I know I’ve been fucking up. This balancing act is more difficult than I could have dreamed, and I know that you and Meg are things I have let slip that I shouldn’t have. I can work to fix that, to make it right, but I can’t do that if one of you is dead. If that means I have to do exactly what I did tonight a thousand times, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

He could keep fighting this, or he could accept that Theo did exactly what Galen would have done if their situations were reversed. At the end of the day, it was no competition. They had more important things to do than to fight each other. “Drama queen.”

Theo gave a soft smile. “Only some days.”

They stood there, so close their exhales mingled. It was the most natural thing in the world to lean in and take Theo’s mouth. All of the bullshit, all of the back-bending and stressful days and politicking and shit Galen didn’t want to deal with… It was all worth it because it meant he could do this whenever he damn well pleased.

Or at least it had been worth it until someone went after Meg.

Theo gripped the back of his neck and broke away enough to say. “Stop thinking and stay with me. Just for a little bit.”

Meg was sleeping in the other room. There was nothing more they could do for her right now. More than that, Theo needed him right now. “Next time—”

“For fuck’s sake, Galen, you’re not normally one to talk something to death.”

No, he really wasn’t. “That’s what you get for naming me Consort. Talking is all I do these days.” He hadn’t mean for the words to come out so bitter, but once they emerged, there was no taking them back.

For a second, it looked like Theo might kiss him again, but then he leaned back and released Galen. “I didn’t know you’d hate it so much—either of you. I thought this was the only way we could be together.”

There it was. Out in the open.

Galen crossed his arms over his chest. “We both know it wouldn’t have mattered if you did. You want what you want, and to hell with anyone who gets in your way.”

Theo narrowed his eyes. “Are you still pissed that I tried to put you on a plane? I thought it was the best option at the time.”

“Because you know best. I think we’ve more than proven that’s complete bullshit.”

“Fuck, Galen, what do you want from me?” Frustration roughened Theo’s voice, the emotion reflected on his face. He ran his fingers through his dark hair and cursed again. “I don’t know how to make this right. I don’t know how to make any of this right.”

Galen shook his head. What the fuck was he doing? They didn’t need to hash this out. Things were the way they were. He might not have wanted the role of Consort, but he sure as hell wasn’t complaining about sharing a bed with Theo and Meg every night. And being “out” in public made him realize how exhausting a couple decades’ worth of sneaking around had been. He might not like that he had stepped into the exact type of role his father had always wanted for him, but that was his baggage. It didn’t belong to anyone else.

He was on Theo before his friend had a chance to register the change. Six months of playing Consort hadn’t made Galen into a wordsmith who knew the right things to say to get people to do what he wanted, and it sure as hell hadn’t gifted him the skillset to comfort the two people he loved when they needed it. He didn’t know if he’d ever play that part in their little threesome, but that was okay. Theo and Meg were better on both fronts.

This?

This, he knew how to do.

He took Theo’s mouth, hard and rough and exactly what they both needed. The worst was yet to come for their current situation, and neither of them could do a damn thing about it tonight. But they could do this. He fisted the front of Theo’s shirt and gave it a yank, scattering buttons across the tile floor. A quick flick of his wrist and he had Theo’s belt free and his pants undone. Galen paused. They might not usually need words, but tonight wasn’t like usual nights. “I know this clusterfuck is weighing on you. You don’t have to bear it alone.”

“I’m the king.”

“You keep saying that. It’s bullshit and you know it. You have us. You have me.” He went to his knees as he shoved Theo’s pants off. “You’re going to do whatever the fuck you think you need to, and we both know it. Well, damn it, you’ll take what you need from me tonight.”

Theo reached down with a hand that didn’t tremor in the least and ran his fingers through Galen’s hair. “You think fucking is going to fix this.”

“I think fucking is what you need to take the edge off so you can stop reacting and start using that impressive brain of yours to figure out a way through this shit.” He took Theo’s cock into his mouth before his friend could keep arguing. Galen had said his peace. That wasn’t what this was about. Theo would do what Theo wanted to do. He always did.

And Galen would keep him anchored to the earth in the meantime.

He sucked Theo down. It didn’t matter that Galen had Theo’s cock inside his body more times than he could count. He never got tired of the full feeling, of having to stretch to compensate. Theo bumped the back of his throat and he relaxed into it, opening himself completely.

Theo held perfectly still for a moment, two, a third. Trying to hang onto that legendary control of his. His anger and fear and frustration were riding too close to the surface for him to win that particular battle. He cursed low and hard and then his hands were on either side of Galen’s face, holding him in place as Theo started fucking his mouth. “This is what you want, you pushy asshole. You want me to fuck you until it hurts.”

Yes.

If he did, maybe Galen would stop picturing Meg at the bottom of those goddamn stairs, her hazel eyes wide and unseeing, her chest still, her lungs having drawn their last breath. If Theo used him thoroughly enough, maybe he’d actually be able to sleep through what was left of the night.

Probably not, but it was worth a shot.

Theo picked up his pace, slamming into Galen’s mouth. Into his throat. Involuntary tears sprang from his eyes, and Theo wiped them tenderly away without missing a single punishing stroke. “That’s it, Galen. Take it all from me. Take everything.” His words lost their carefully cultured tone, spilling between them, raw and true. “Drink me down. That’s a fucking order.” He came with a low curse, spilling over Galen’s tongue and down his throat. He wrenched Galen to his feet and kissed him hard.

In that moment, they weren’t King and Consort. They were just two men who had known each other most of their lives. There was perfect trust and perfect understanding.

Galen closed his eyes as a shiver worked through his body. He had to get control of himself. This shit wasn’t him. “You have a plan.”

“I have a plan.” Theo hesitated, and then gave a rough laugh. “You’re not going to like it.”

That drew forth a laugh of his own. “When do I ever like your plans, Theo?”

“Yeah, well, you’re really not going to like this one.” He pressed a tender kiss to Galen’s lips, and then ran a hand down his chest to cup his cock through his lounge pants. “Let’s start a shower and take care of this.”

“You’re just trying to butter me up for some bullshit.”

“Maybe.” Theo was already turning away and moving to the shower. The muscles in his back stood out starkly against his skin. He’d lost what little color he’d gained during their exile, and he was almost as pale as Meg now. He glanced over his shoulder and raised a single dark brow. “Or maybe I just want the taste of your cock on my tongue to wash away all the bad shit that went down today.”

Well, fuck. Galen couldn’t argue with that logic.

He kicked off his pants and followed Theo into the shower.