THE DOOR BURST OPEN with the kind of enthusiastic violence that could only mean one thing.
Carson.
Grayson didn't move from his position beside Mailah—didn't remove his arm from around her waist or disentangle their hands. He simply turned his head and fixed his youngest brother with a look that could have frozen hellfire.
Carson stopped mid-stride, taking in the scene: Grayson lying beside Mailah on the bed, both fully clothed but undeniably intimate, her sleeping peacefully against him.
"Oh," Carson said, his grin spreading like wildfire. "Oh, this is delicious."
"Leave." Grayson's voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried enough menace to make lesser beings reconsider their life choices.
"I'm not leaving. This is the best thing I've seen all week." Carson pulled out his phone. "I need photographic evidence that the Ice King has melted."
"Carson, I will end you."
