Chapter 9
Mark had only just reined in his irritation by the time they made it to Caster’s over-the-top mansion. He was being petty with his assessment, but the house was so large, it was almost a monstrosity. Who needed that much space anyway? Their house, as large as it was, was a cottage compared to this.
As the car sent to retrieve him and his brother from the airport made its way through the long driveway toward the main house, Mark noted the house’s seclusion.
It was well away from any large human settlement, surrounded by what looked like a well-maintained forest. Like their home, this mansion, the grounds, and the forest around it were all cloaked.
The vampire driving them into the unknown had glanced at them once, motioned for them to enter the vehicle, and had not spoken a word since.
The giant double front door opened as soon as the car came to a stop, and the driver, who was too good to talk to them, motioned for them to enter.
Mark had never been so happy to see his younger brother Mikey, who all but ran toward them, hugging him.
The youngest of them, Mikey, was always quick to trust, and Mark couldn’t help but assess his brother’s health.
Mikey pushed away from him when he held on longer than necessary. “I’m fine.”
Mark shrugged. “Had to be sure.”
The young vampire Mikey had been with was tentative in his actions as he stepped forward and reached his hand out in greeting. “Hi, I’m Ben.”
Mark stared at the proffered hand. He wasn’t about to fall for fake pleasantries.
The young vampire frowned and then smiled when Dean accepted his handshake. He seemed to be a Made-Vampire, although having spent too much time avoiding vampires, Mark couldn’t be sure.
The vampire turned his attention from Mark’s hostility to address Dean. “My brother is waiting in the conference room. I can show you around as we make our way there.”
“We don’t need to—” Mark started.
“Of course. We would like that.” Dean leveled him with his most intense Prime Alpha stare. “Wouldn’t we?”
“Fine.” Mark sighed. The last thing he wanted was a tour of this monster of a house.
Why did it matter anyway? They were here to catch and, if he had his way, murder a witch, not socialize.
But he acquiesced, following the group chatting away ahead of him at a distance.
Angering Dean and losing his only ally in this fight would not be wise.
A rare and sudden prickle assaulted his senses as they made their way to the main conference room, where they’d be meeting the Crown Prince.
For the first time that day, his wolf came closer to the barrier keeping him at bay, and Mark stopped.
The sweet smell of moist soil in the rain invaded his senses.
The animal in him sensed the outdoors and clawed at him to be let out.
The sweet scent grew the closer they approached the door, and Mark glanced at his brothers.
They didn’t seem to sense it, engrossed in conversation with their host.
The delicious scent struck him like a sledgehammer to the chest when the door opened, and he closed his eyes, both sides of him wanting to drown in it.
“Aah, you’ve arrived. Sorry, I wasn’t…”
Whatever the deep voice said drowned in the scent his wolf couldn’t get enough of.
Mark opened his eyes to find the speaker’s gaze all over him.
He continued to speak, but all Mark heard, all he felt was the effect of his voice.
Velvet, deep, and a subtle command in each word. A command he wanted directed his way.
The human side was confused, but the wolf pranced around in its cage for the first time since…
Mark shook his head to dislodge the memory and closed his eyes only for his senses to be assaulted by that delicious smell he couldn’t escape.
His wolf danced with delight, and Mark once again tried to find comfort with the other wolves in the room.
Again, his brothers seemed blind to his turmoil, laughing at something one of the other vampires said.
He swallowed the lump of emotion clogging his throat and forced himself to assess the room. There were two other people there aside from Mr. Velvet Voice, and each one stared at him with a guarded expression.
Velvet Voice reached out his hand in greeting, and Mark couldn’t resist the pull. As soon as they touched, his wolf let out a howl of delight, almost an acceptance.
Startled by his internal reaction, Mark withdrew his hand too fast.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mark.” The voice didn’t lose its edge even in its softness.
Mark’s head swam with the need to remain here and continue to bathe in that scent and the intense desire to run as fast and as far as he could.
The vampire, causing him so much distress, stepped closer to him, drowning him in that delicious scent. He leaned closer, gray eyes with a tiny red ring around the pupil holding him captive as he mouthed, “Breathe…”
And just like that, Mark’s lungs expanded with much-needed air, and he was unable to restrain the moan bubbling from the depths of his soul.
The vampire, the Crown Prince, stepped away from him, a half smirk on his lips, and moved to sit at the head of the large table.
Mark rubbed his damp hands on his jeans and sat next to Mikey, as far from the source of his discomfort as he could.
Everyone seemed engrossed in their conversation, but Mark drowned in his wolf’s insistence to be let out. He tried and failed to avoid the scent coming from the other end of the table, and when he glanced in that direction, the same half-smirk told him the vampire enjoyed the effect he had on him.
He wanted to run, but he couldn’t be sure he could stand again. Not on legs that couldn’t seem to stop shaking. Not with the way his wolf rolled around in the new scent. He could feel Caster’s eyes on him, and it took everything to focus on drawing breath. Was he having a panic attack?