God of Fury (Legacy of Gods #5) by Rina Kent

Even with his hair tied back, he still gives a major creeper vibe.

Just what the fuck does Bran see in him? He looks like one of those violent wankers. Aka me when I was young. I know an adrenaline junkie when I see one.

“So how old are you, Nikolai?” my wife asks in a soft tone. “You look about Bran’s age.”

Bran swallows the mouthful of toast and grimaces. “He’s actually four years younger.”

“Shut the fridge.” She gasps. “He doesn’t look a day younger.”

“Thanks, ma’am. That’s what I’ve been saying.” He slides his fork and knife on either side of his plate again. “Also, it’s only three and a half years. I’m going to be twenty in a couple of weeks.”

“Don’t ma’am me. Just call me Astrid. Make yourself comfortable and treat this like your home.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that.” I cut my toast with scrambled eggs and glare at him.

To give him credit, he doesn’t hold my gaze or glare back like his fucker cousin.

He lowers his head and says, “Once again, I’m sorry for showing up without previous notice. I thought I’d see Bran and leave.”

“Aw, such good manners.” My wife smiles. “And don’t worry, you’re welcome here any time.”

“I wouldn’t use the word welcome.”

“Dad,” Bran mouths pleadingly and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

There he goes defending the little fucker. I’m losing my children one by one to a bunch of wankers.

“So where did you guys meet?” my wife asks, battling against my every attempt to scare him away. Hopefully, he’ll act up and Bran will realize Nikolai is not for him.

Let’s cross all fingers for that very happy ending.

“It was at a…” Bran trails off. “Party.”

Nikolai smirks. “Yes. A party. I was all over him in no time.”

“You were what?” I snap.

“I mean.” His smirk disappears. “I was the one who noticed him first.”

“And you couldn’t keep your attention to yourself?”

“Levi.” Astrid pinches my thigh beneath the table.

“I’m afraid not, sir,” he answers with a straight face. “It was my destiny to meet your son and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

There it is. The same arrogance that courses through Killian’s veins instead of blood.

Bran ducks his head and smiles as he spreads an unhealthy amount of apricot jam on some toast.

My heart kind of fucking bursts.

I haven’t seen my son smile so broadly since…well, his pre-teenage years. Puberty changed him into this overly responsible, slightly depressed man. Where Lan grew into his obnoxious, too outward self, Bran turned inward.

Last night, when he told us it was because he didn’t want to come off as abnormal, it made me feel like a shitty father. I often tried to make him feel as special as his brother, but that didn’t matter if he himself didn’t believe in that fact.

“That’s so sweet.” My wife, who seems already taken by the little shit Nikolai, smiles and passes him a plate of eggs Benedict.

“He prefers a sweet breakfast, Mum.” Bran slides the jam sandwich that I thought he was making for himself in front of Nikolai and even gives him a whole plate of macarons.

“He doesn’t look the part,” she says.

“Don’t be fooled by the muscles. He has the most tragic sweet tooth I’ve ever had the misfortune to witness.”

“Guilty as charged,” Nikolai says after he finishes the toast in two bites like a barbarian. “Honestly, I work out so I can consume as many pastries as possible.”

“One day, you’ll go into a sugar coma,” Bran says with a sigh, as if he’s mentioned this countless times before.

“Worth it.”

“That’s the spirit.” Astrid raises her glass of orange juice in his direction and he clinks his against it.

“So what do you study in uni, Nikolai?” Astrid asks.

“Business management. I’m supposed to be taking over the family business that my parents have been leading for decades.”

“Oh, how exciting. You and Bran share something in common.”

“Really?” he asks, too eager. “What?”

“Heirs to a family business. Though Bran clearly expressed that he’ll have nothing to do with the management side.”

“Eli, Lan, and Creigh will do that just fine. I prefer art.”

“That’s my boy.” She reaches across the table and pats his hand.

“I find it hard to believe you do well at school,” I comment dryly.

“I actually have a GPA of 4.15, sir. I might not look like it, but I have an awesome memory. Though your other son likes to call me stupid.”

I smile to myself, proud of Lan, but then Bran strokes Nikolai’s arm. “You’re not stupid. Besides, Lan finds ninety-nine percent of the human population mentally challenged, so he’s the problem.”

Is he consoling him right now?

Dear God, please blind my fucking eyes.

“As long as you don’t think that, I couldn’t care less about Landon’s opinion of me.”

“You guys are so sweet.” Astrid has this dreamy expression all over her face that could only be described as swooning.