Chapter 20
Alow whine startled his tired, sore body into wakefulness.
His heavy eyes adjusted to the light, and the memory of the pain he’d experienced a few hours earlier dissipated into a rush of calm.
A second whine filled the space in his mind, and Mark sat up so fast, the bed shook.
His wolf. He reached for the barrier that kept the animal at bay and moaned when a rush of healing hormones flooded his system, taking away every ounce of pain and reinvigorating his body with an energy he had missed.
Tears filled his eyes as he reveled in the connection with the long-lost part of him.
He closed his eyes, grasping the connection with everything in him.
His canines tingled, the nail beds of all fingers and toes tightened as the animal in him made his presence known.
Unable to hold back, Mark allowed the tears to flow.
His wolf was back, its low growl filling the foreign room.
“You can’t transform. Not here.”
He opened his eyes to see Caster leaning against the door, studying him, his expression guarded, a warning in the way his muscles seemed coiled for action.
In his haste to welcome his animal self back, he’d almost forgotten where he was. He sniffed back fresh tears, all too aware of the weakness he’d displayed.
Caster started to move toward him, but stopped when Mark jumped off the bed. He was aware of his nudity, of Caster’s momentary perusal of his naked form, and of his body coming alive in response.
His wolf’s approval of the man who’d brought him such sweet pain a few hours ago was not lost on him.
But his wolf was the baser side of him. Mark had needed last night.
That was it. Nothing more could happen here.
Caster was still the Crown Prince of Vampires, and if he allowed himself to forget their role in his pain, his vengeance would be incomplete.
“How did you get here last night?”
Caster’s voice penetrated his latest attempt to soak in the power his wolf’s presence brought, and it took a second to understand what he asked.
He took a breath to stifle his wolf’s insistence for a transformation and turned to Caster, covering his nakedness in quick movements. “I can get back to the house. I don’t need you to—”
Caster shook his head. “Not like that.”
He frowned, struggling to button his shirt as fast as the small buttons would allow. He wanted to be as far away from Caster as he could get. It was the only way he could stifle this need to rush right back into his arms. It was his wolf’s need, but his human self wasn’t too far behind.
Caster took a few steps closer to him, and it took every ounce of strength to stand his ground. “Take control of your wolf. I can feel it, and I don’t want to have to explain a giant animal in here.”
“I am in control.”
Caster nodded toward his hand.
The bones twisted and groaned with the partial transformation.
In his haste to get away from him, Mark had lost control of the animal.
It had been so long since it made an appearance that he’d forgotten the telltale signs.
He ignored Caster’s determined expression and took a breath, closing his eyes to reach past the barrier in his mind and beg his wolf to stay calm.
A rush of warmth flooded that shared space at his wolf’s understanding, and he sighed when the transformation stopped.
Before the witch, he’d been so in sync with his animal, he could transform faster and with greater ease.
He had better control of the transformation than anyone, even Dean.
Now, he was unsure he could turn back if he let the wolf out.
“Good.”
The pride at the single word of praise from Caster’s lips made him want to vomit. He tried to push past Caster, resolving to stay away from him, but Caster grabbed his arm in a tight hold, halting all movement. He tried to shake it off, but the vampire was much stronger.
“Stop.”
He moved into Caster’s space, their faces only inches apart. “Just because I let you fuck me last night doesn’t mean that you own me. I am not yours to command.”
A flash of something he couldn’t name crossed Caster’s face, but it was gone too soon for him to decipher it.
The grip on his arm tightened enough to bring back memories of the delicious pain they’d shared, but then it was gone.
“Believe me, that’s the last thing I want.
” He pushed past Mark’s shoulder towards the door.
“The car is waiting to take us back to the compound.”
Unsure why he was so bothered by his indifference, Mark shook his head. “I can find my own way back.”
Caster turned to face Mark, the thunderous expression on his face almost threatening.
“The last thing I want is to be in close quarters with you. But you are not in control of”—he waved a hand between them— “whatever this is. I told you, I don’t want to have to explain the presence of a giant wolf in this place. ”
He planted his feet, but even to him, his defiance seemed nonsensical. “I am in control.”
Caster’s jaw hardened, and this time Mark took a step back when he moved closer. “You will get in the car with me, or I will put you there.”
Every cell in Mark’s body shook. His wolf retreated into the safety of his mind, whining its subservience.
Gone was the Caster who’d held him as he’d cried himself to sleep, replaced by the no-nonsense leader of the most powerful species in the world.
There was no mistaking the truth of his words or the conviction behind them.
A few minutes later, Mark sat in the backseat of Caster’s Range Rover, the giant of a Born-Vampire he’d seen at Caster’s bedroom door caught his eye in the rear-view mirror before pulling out of the driveway.
Caster had kept his word, choosing the seat next to the driver.
He welcomed the tiny space between them, although it did nothing to dampen the unique scent that was Caster permeating the small space in the car to cause further havoc to his already frayed nerves.
He needed to get away from him. The ease with which he’d broken through every wall Mark had erected around himself made him a dangerous prospect.
His life didn’t have room for feelings. He had one goal, and once it was done, he’d be free to join Zeke in the Underworld.
The gate to Caster’s property opened, and the car rolled down the long driveway. He was sure Caster and his bodyguard communicated, but it was all telepathic. His wolf could sense the energy, but not enough to eavesdrop.
He reached for the door as soon as the car stopped, only for his haste to be curtailed by a new scent.
An old scent that his wolf recognized in an instant.
In control of his animal, Mark allowed his wolf to lead him towards its prey, following the scent past the front door.
There was no mistaking it. One of them was here.
He had little time to analyze the situation.
Caster’s voice threatened to break his concentration, but his wolf’s growl was all he heard as he zeroed in on a scent he’d held on to for dear life.
He recognized the house, its many hallways, as he moved with unnatural speed towards his goal.
Voices reached through the closed door of Caster’s study, giving him momentary pause. That voice, that smell.
Part of him feared what he was about to see. The other part reveled in the impending satisfaction killing his enemy would bring. He pushed the door open with so much force, it groaned, breaking apart at the hinges to fall inside the large study.
He saw Damien, caught his surprised expression, but his focus zeroed in on his companion. “You…”
The vampire’s eyes widened, and he stepped back as Mark approached. His wolf’s growl echoed through the room, its insistence on a transformation almost painful, but Mark pushed it aside. This, he wanted to do in human form.
He advanced towards the vampire whose name he didn’t know, but who was as familiar to him as his own hand and had him by the throat before he could speak.
He tightened his grip, calling on all the strength the animal in him could give.
The vampire choked on his breath, the sickening sound of his windpipe falling apart, filling the room, satisfying Mark’s bloodlust. He clawed at Mark’s arm, trying to ease his hold, and Mark let his claws through, piercing his neck.
Warm blood coated his arm, soaking through his clothes, and his smile joined his wolf’s resounding howl of delight.
Someone gripped his shoulder, trying to pry him off the vampire whose heartbeat slowed with each passing second.
He tried to shrug off the other person, but the hold tightened, and his shoulder blade buckled.
The crunching pain of the broken bone tore him away from his prize for a second, raised voices flooding into his mind to join his singular purpose.
That second was all the vampire needed. The defensive blow from his fist landed on Mark’s forearm with enough force to break it in two.
The pain of two broken bones flooded his body, his wolf’s howl faded into a low whine, but Mark wouldn’t stop.
He couldn’t. This vampire had to die if he was to get any peace.
The vampire pushed him away, his injured neck already healing. It took a few more seconds for Mark’s broken bones to repair, and in that time, his nemesis had recovered enough to offer significant resistance.
He lunged at Mark, his full vampire on display, eyes red and fangs lengthened, only to stop short.
Damien held him back. In that restraint, Mark saw the chance to finish him off.
He allowed a partial transformation, bringing his canines into the fight and advanced, but a force pulled him back, crashing him into a hard male form whose familiarity he fought to forget.
“Stop!” The command was even more familiar.
He struggled against Caster’s hold, his wolf’s need to kill the person who’d caused them both so much pain overriding his good sense.
There were three Born-Vampires in the room.
He had no hope of overcoming their combined strength, but the animal in him was not interested in rationality or strategy, only blood.
“Damien…” Caster’s breath wafted over his ear as he tightened both arms around Mark to keep him still.
Damien pulled the other vampire towards the door, and Mark struggled against the cage of muscle around him to get to him.
“Bas, leave. Now.” Caster’s voice was tight with the strength it took to keep Mark contained.
The struggling vampire shrugged out of Damien’s grip. “What? This asshole attacked me…”
“I said go.”
Mark tried to dislodge Caster’s hold, his need to kill the vampire now smirking at him, unbearable, but not enough to overcome Caster’s strength.
“Let’s go.” Damien dragged the vampire through the broken door, and Mark fought Caster with every ounce of his strength.
“Stop it!”
His wolf was the first to obey, its threatening growls dying to a few whines as the scent that had started it all floated away.
Caster’s hold eased a fraction, and Mark took a breath. He’d failed, again. One of the vampires that had torn his world apart had been in his grasp, and he’d let him live.
Caster turned him around so fast, he stumbled. “What?”
He sighed. With so much going on, he’d forgotten to protect his thoughts. He wanted to fight Caster’s hold on his shoulders, but the fight was gone; in its place, the grief of his failure.
Caster searched his eyes for answers he didn’t want to give, and he closed them.
“Kyle, go. Make sure Bastian doesn’t come back.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Until he’d spoken, Mark hadn’t noticed Caster’s bodyguard.
This time, Caster did not fight him when he shrugged him off.
He didn’t try to stop him as Mark left the room.
The revolting, particular scent of that vampire faded as he took the stairs to the room he’d been assigned, doing his best to ignore Caster’s eyes boring into his back.
The pain he’d thought had dissipated in the playroom last night slammed into him with incredible ferocity.
The sublime whiteness of his room felt almost dirty as he discarded his torn shirt.
It was soaked in blood, blood bearing Bastian’s scent.
Now he had a name to match the scent he would never forget.
It was clear Bastian and Caster were related, but that wouldn’t save him.
Nothing would. Dean had been right. This was the place to be if he intended to satisfy his thirst for vengeance.