His brothers, all three of the rotters, laughed.

"Paen, you're the world's champion brooder," Daniel said, stretching again and squinting at the clock.

"Aye, and a broodaholic, to boot. I'm thinking we need to do an intervention, or maybe get you into one of those twelve-step programs. 'Hi, my name is Paen, and I'm broody.' Maybe that'll help you lighten up a bit." Finn grinned at his brother.

Paen stifled the urge to sock him in the arm. Finn was just as tall as he was, and although he had a good twenty pounds on his brother, it had been a near thing the last time he wrestled Finn—or any of them, for that matter.

Instead, Paen gave them all a narrow-eyed look, wondering for the umpteenth time how his fair-haired mother and dark-haired father could produce four sons who differed so greatly in appearance. He took after his father in looks, with black hair that insisted on curling despite his efforts to make it lie flat, and grey eyes. Avery was every bit his blond-haired, blue-eyed mother's son, while Finn and Daniel were somewhere in between. "There is a vast difference between being concerned for Mum's soul and brooding. What you see here is concern, with just a dash of worry thrown in to keep from going stale. There's not a single shred of brood on me."

"Here it comes," Avery told Finn.

The latter nodded. "The bit about us lot being so lucky because we have our souls, and him being damned and all. Same old, same old."

"Well, I am damned! You don't have the slightest concept what it is to be in my position," Paen argued. "You have no idea the torment, the pain—"

"'—the agony of living each day without any hope, without love shared with a soulmate, without any chance at redemption,'" his brothers all chanted together.

Paen growled. He loved his brothers, but there were times when he would pay good money to be an only child.