Chapter 17
The rays of sunshine hitting his fur were warmer than usual, and he would soon need to find shade.
The park’s expanse called to him, but he was already too far from home, and the Prime Alpha wouldn’t like that.
Still, the feel of each blade of grass as it made contact with his paws was well worth his brother’s reprimand later.
The smaller creatures around him scurried from his path, and his human self smiled.
They were right to fear the predator in him, but he wasn’t here for them.
Today, he craved the Alpha who made him tremble with a different kind of thrill.
He called his name in his mind, sensing his presence but unable to see the large gray wolf that was Zeke in wolf-form.
A low growl reached his ears from the left, and Mark stumbled.
His senses prickled, his human self protected by the psychic barrier, smiling his delight.
A menacing hiss joined the growl, and he stopped mid-stride.
Fear tore through every cell as his need to protect Zeke urged him into a gallop, his heightened senses zeroing in on a stench that was as familiar as it was foreign.
Grief and fear pushed him harder, his movements a blur, the thrill of the run a distant memory.
Still, he couldn’t get close to the gray wolf he needed to protect.
He stumbled on the log he’d failed to see, crashing head-first into the grass-covered ground.
The momentum of his fall dragged his large form across the ground, cuts and scrapes healing as fast as they appeared.
Red eyes glowed with menace, pointy teeth bared in threat appeared through the haze.
Mark braced for the end as the disembodied red eyes lunged at him, the sound of a snarl mixed in with ear-splitting growls reaching past his heightened senses to the human beneath the wolf.
He squeezed his eyes shut, his muscles locking, trapping him in place.
His eyes popped open in time to see a blur of gray fur lunge at the darkness. Zeke hit his mark, but long claws obscured by the darkness pierced his neck. Blood gushed from the ghastly wounds as Zeke lost his fur, his human form going slack in the creature’s grip.
Mark screamed his protest, lunging at the creature, his teeth bared and ready…
He startled awake, choking on a roar that followed him from his nightmare.
He scanned the unfamiliar room, expecting to see the creature’s sinister blood-red eyes, and sighed his relief when all he saw was the impossible whiteness.
It was nothing like his room back home, unfamiliar and distressing.
Three days. Three full days he’d spent in this room, unable to get comfortable, unable to reach his wolf.
The last time he’d felt the animal side of him stir enough to experience his power, a similar monster had threatened him.
He shivered at the memory of what had brought his wolf closer than he’d been in years.
Caster’s fingers on his face, in his hair, the scent wafting from his body, and the heat he longed to snuggle deeper into.
Mark shook his head to deny the truth of his feelings.
He was so attracted to the vampire’s dominance there was no masking it.
Not from the other part of him, but he’d be damned if he’d ever admit that to anyone.
What was it that took the most powerful witch three whole days to decipher?
He’d avoided being anywhere close to Caster so far, but how long before he was forced to face him?
Like he’d done the last two days, he dressed and prepared to meet his brother Mikey for breakfast. His younger brother didn’t ask why Mark needed the closeness.
Like the rest of his family, Mikey had learned to avoid the topic and instead provided silent support, playing the part of Mark’s emotional crutch with real enthusiasm.
The guilt clawing at his belly eased when Mikey smiled at him.
They were more similar in appearance, even if Mikey was much smaller.
They shared brown eyes and thick brown hair.
Dean’s jet-black hair and dark blue eyes were so different from the rest of the family, most people didn’t believe he was their brother.
Their mother said he was the perfect mirror image of their grandfather, the first Prime Alpha who had died long before any of them existed.
Mikey waved at the assortment of food on the table set up near the monster of a mansion’s main garden. “There you are. I thought you’d make me eat all of this alone.”
His brother’s easy acceptance pushed his guilt further back, and he smiled in response even though he didn’t think he could keep anything down. For his brother’s benefit, he selected a few options, loading a plate with scrambled eggs, a few pieces of bacon, and a bagel.
“Did you oversleep?” Mikey asked
He checked his wrist, only to realize he’d neglected to wear a watch.
“It’s almost midday.”
The forkful of creamy scrambled eggs that he shoved into his mouth made him want to gag, but he forced himself to chew and swallow for the benefit of his wolf.
The animal barely stirred, and worry spread through his body.
His nightmares were a part of his life, and he’d learned to live with their intensity.
They were his penance for failing to save him.
But they seemed to intensify here, startling him awake more than once every night.
“What is it?” Mikey was frowning, the easy smile replaced with concern. At least it wasn’t pity.
He shook his head.
“Please, Mark. It’s just me. You seem… out of sorts.”
Mark smiled even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. “Out of sorts?”
His attempt to lighten the mood did nothing for the frown on Mikey’s face. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
His brother had never begged him to share his pain before. Mark stared at his plate. “I can’t feel my wolf. At all.”
Mikey’s gasp was the correct response. To a werewolf, losing the wolf was akin to losing oneself. He glanced at his brother, begging him not to make a big deal out of it, even though it couldn’t be much bigger.
“How long?” The concern on Mikey’s face was a heartbeat away from pity.
“Not long. I dreamt of him, again, but he was gone this morning.”
Mikey fidgeted in his seat. “We have to tell Dean.”
“No.” It took every ounce of restraint not to jump out of his seat.
Mikey studied him for a long moment. “When was the last time you could feel him? Maybe you need to do whatever you were doing when he last appeared.”
Mark almost laughed. His brother’s advice was on point, and he was certain his wolf would respond if he did, but that was a dangerous idea.
Still, as his brother continued to study him with endless pity, Mark couldn’t help but wonder if he could, just once.
If he can get his wolf to make an appearance for a moment, perhaps he could get some semblance of control.
He’d denied a part of himself for too long, a vital part, and his unsettling encounters with Caster had awoken that side of him.
Maybe if he indulged his need to be controlled, his wolf would break free of whatever kept him concealed.
It was worth a try. He didn’t need to be in wolf-form to satisfy his lust for vengeance, but he would need even the tiniest bit of his wolf’s strength if he would fulfil his quest to kill the witch.
After that, he didn’t care enough to worry about what would happen to him.
Now he needed to fortify himself against the guilt he was about to subject himself to.
Being with any other dominant was such a betrayal of Zeke’s memory; he’d only tried it once in the past decade with disastrous results.
He begged the love of his life for forgiveness as he settled on the plan to search for a temporary fix.
One thing was certain: it couldn’t be Caster.
“Please don’t ask if I’m OK.” He looked his brother in the eye, begging him to understand.
Mikey nodded, and he welcomed the comfortable silence that settled between them.
One day, he’d have the strength to tell someone he was not OK, that he was too far away from it. Today wasn’t that day.