There was something to be said for settling down, he supposed, but his father had been much older than he when he’d had his first serious liaison, something that had resulted in Damion’s eldest bastard half-brother, a dashing if not completely stupid man named Glamoach. The others, a motley collection of perhaps a dozen lads—it was impossible to get an accurate count—who seemed to have managed to escape their mothers’ wombs without having had anything heavy fall on them immediately afterward, were of varying ages but sharing the same unpleasant personalities and bitter feelings toward their sire.
Damion didn’t share those feelings. He had learned over the years to be simply indifferent to Gair. He had watched his own brothers angst over winning their father’s approbation, watched his othe
