Damien
The news that Uncle Lucien was building an army didn’t bode well for anyone.
At its height, the war had been so long ago that it had been easy to conceal from humans.
Caster was certain any such conflict would be impossible to hide and would be more destructive.
Humans dying in droves in the Middle Ages, as they got caught up in the conflict, could be explained away.
There wasn’t enough compulsion to wipe away the effects of millions of dead humans in the age of cameras and social media.
Someone would slip up, and an inevitable war with humans would be the result.
He didn’t understand why his uncle couldn’t see the danger his actions posed.
Riley’s groan was not unexpected. “This is about to get very bloody, isn’t it?” His smile denied his feigned exasperation as he stood. “I’ll leave you to it. Goddess knows you don’t need my help.”
“Where are you going?” Caster asked.
“Your brother is with Cole again, and you know what that means…”
Caster waved him away. His relationship with Ben may be complicated, but Caster couldn’t think of anyone better for his baby brother.
A tiny amount of guilt that he hadn’t even considered his brother’s safety was nothing more than a nuisance.
No one could protect Ben better than Riley.
“Do you think we should send for Cy and X?”
Xavier, or X as they called him, was Damien’s brother. He and Caster’s brother Cyrus were close and free of Uncle Lucien’s influence. Still, he worried.
“They can handle themselves,” Damien said. “Plus, Marcus guaranteed their protection.”
“You mean like Mother’s detail?”
Damien sat up, momentary anger hardening his jaw. “How could that have even happened? Tell me you handled it.”
Caster shrugged. “I didn’t need to.”
Damien frowned.
“You should have seen him. The exquisite precision of the kill…” He shook his head. “I haven’t seen that since… well, since Marcus.”
“You like him.”
It was not an accusation or a question. It was a plain fact, but Caster nodded. “It’s complicated.”
Damien stared at him, waiting for an explanation he didn’t know how to give.
He took a breath. If anyone would understand, it was Damien. “He couldn’t transform.”
Damien sat even straighter, the slight raised eyebrow the only indication of his surprise. “I thought something was off about him that first night.”
“I think it’s a consequence of what Bastian and the witch did to him. He won’t talk about it, but whatever it was, it robbed him of his wolf. Until me.”
“What?”
“Well, every time we’re together, his wolf comes back.”
Damien’s stare was so long that the discomfort it brought made him fidget in his seat. A few agonizing seconds crawled by before his cousin nodded. “Then you stay close to him.”
“It’s not that simple.”
The frown on his cousin’s face returned and disappeared a moment later. “He is submissive, isn’t he? That’s where you disappeared to that night at the club?”
“Yes. But he’s nowhere near ready for that.” Except that night. That night, he’d been so open, so trusting, Caster hadn’t been able to contain his pride.
“Because of Bastian.”
He nodded.
“Well, I’m sure I don’t have half the wisdom Marcus would have on this. But if he responds to you enough to heal whatever’s affecting his wolf, I’d say take it slow, but don’t retreat from it.”
“Why, thank you, Master Damien.” Caster laughed when his cousin threw a paperweight at his head, his reflexes allowing him to catch the weapon before it made contact with his face.
“You motherfucker.” Damien leaned back in his chair, letting out a heavy sigh. “Can we eat now, or did you need me to braid your hair too?”
“What do you have?” He pushed thoughts of Mark out of his mind as he watched his cousin’s widening smile, knowing it meant they wouldn’t leave this house anytime soon.
A few minutes later, one of Damien’s guards led two young human males into the study.
Their quiet steps, the steady rhythm of their hearts signaled their compulsion.
Good. He didn’t relish the need to make his meal comfortable today.
He extended a hand toward the red-headed one, and his compelled mind led him into the waiting trap.
Damien’s low voice as he spoke to his chosen prey reached past the space between them.
Caster had no such intentions. Comfort and desire he reserved for Mark.
He pulled the young man next to him with so much force, the poor human let out a small grunt, but Damien’s guards had done such a good job, his mind didn’t register the danger he was in.
Caster wouldn’t kill him, but the need to inflict pain on anyone was too great.
The scent of the blood flowing under his skin called to the vampire in him, and his fangs lengthened.
The distant moan of the other human was evident, but it didn’t diminish the need to feed.
He bit into the human’s carotid and lost himself in the nourishment he hadn’t known he needed until Damien had suggested it.
The lack of compulsion from him meant the human in his arms experienced overwhelming pleasure at his bite.
But his body’s jerking movements as he was overtaken by an orgasm he couldn’t contain were a nuisance to Caster.
He held him tighter, taking in more of his blood, the pleasure hormones infusing it, adding a pinch of spice to the otherwise metallic taste.
Long pulls drew on more of the human’s life force, and when his heart skipped a beat, slowing to dangerous levels, Caster retracted his fangs, releasing him.
The human’s body slumped onto the couch, his breath shallow but even, his eyes closed. Caster leaned back, his cells humming with renewed power. He was aware of Damien’s activities from across the room, but none of it was unusual. They’d shared a meal more than once through the centuries.
The heightened sense of power the blood brought didn’t last long as he caught his cousin’s eye.
It was time to tell the Prime Alpha everything.
It wouldn’t surprise him if Dean already knew.
James was as efficient in his role as Julian.
Still, the treaty was clear. Any violation required intervention from both parties.