CHAPTER 1
Present day…
His chest constricted, shortening his breath to sharp gasps.
Caster St. John resisted the urge to hold on to the underside of the desk, instead balling his hands into fists so tight, his knuckles cracked from the pressure.
The air in Damien’s study was foreign; everything seemed foreign now.
How had a few weeks reduced him to this?
His goal had been simple: find the witch and keep her from killing his kind.
Now, the love of his life, his soulmate, lay unconscious somewhere in this monstrosity of a house, and he couldn’t bring himself to go to him.
Disgust, shame, and fear all coiled around his gut at the thought, but he couldn’t help his reaction.
He waited for word from his cousin, who was somewhere dealing with the Council, a Council that had dissolved into madness.
At least that was the excuse he allowed himself this time.
If he walked into the room Damien’s household had assigned to Mark, he would never leave.
His desire to hold on to Mark and never let go was enough to break him.
The image of how broken Mark had been when Zeke reappeared, the hurt he couldn’t conceal, but also the hope that had been apparent to everyone present, tore his heart in two.
How had the witch accomplished this? The memory of the events leading to Mark’s indescribable heartbreak a decade ago were clear and undeniable.
Yet, there Zeke had been, whole, not in pieces and alive.
The door he’d insisted remain closed until Damien returned opened, and his long-time bodyguard, Kyle, walked in, his demeanor subdued even as his face remained passive, burdened by his duty.
“Damien’s back, and the Prime Alpha would like to see you. I told them to wait.”
Caster nodded, the table groaning in protest as he gripped the edges tight enough for a dull ache to travel up his fingers to join the pressure constricting his heart. “Let them in.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Kyle’s impassive features, but it retreated behind the mask of duty and a curt nod.
His desire to protect Caster from all of this was welcome, but unnecessary. He couldn’t do anything about the Zeke situation. But he was still the Crown Prince of the Vampires, and it was his duty to protect his kind from a witch who’d proven even more powerful than they’d ever imagined.
The Prime Alpha walked in first, his clothes and his dark hair disheveled. The strain of the last few days was evident in the frown he wore. In the centuries he’d known Dean, Caster had never seen him this worried, his disarming charm and easy smile replaced by a furrowed brow that seemed permanent.
“How is he?” Caster couldn’t have held the question in if he tried. He couldn’t bring himself to go to Mark, but he was desperate for even the tiniest information regarding his health.
Dean sank into one of the chairs in front of Damien’s large desk and shook his head, his stress almost tangible. “I just got him back. I can’t believe this is happening again.” His blue stare was a challenge Caster did not try to shrink from. “You need to go see him. He might need you.”
“I will. I just…” He sighed, certain Dean would see through any excuse he could come up with. “There is so much to deal with.”
Concerned brother dissipated to reveal the Prime Alpha, his people's capable leader. “That’s why I’m here. I need to meet with my council, and they won’t come here.” He stood, his energy an unusual mix of stress and renewed energy. “I need Mark to be safe. You’ll keep him with you until I return?”
His answer was automatic. Anyone who tried to harm Mark in any way would pay with their life.
Dean started to walk toward the door, nodding at Damien, who walked in with Julian behind him, but he stopped at the threshold, pinning Caster with that intense blue gaze. “He needs you more than he needs me right now.”
The deafening silence his pronouncement left behind fell like a hammer.
It was unfair of Caster to put everything on Mark, but he feared a total breakdown if Mark chose Zeke over him.
They’d been together longer than Caster had known Mark.
Their budding attraction, as strong as it was, couldn’t compete with that kind of history.
“Still can’t find your uncle, Your Highness.” Julian’s clipped, all-business tone drew him away from spiraling thoughts of Mark, back to the present, all-important duty he shouldered.
He looked at Damien, his cousin, as put-together as he always was, but with an underlying hint of tiredness.
Damien shook his head and sat on the couch by the floor-to-ceiling windows in the study.
Julian loomed over them, his energy an uncharacteristic jumbled mess even as he did his best to conceal it.
“How is that wolf still alive?” Julian’s question increased the unbearable pressure around his heart, but Caster forced himself to breathe through the pain.
“You saw how powerful the little witch was. You think resurrection is outside of her skill set?” Damien said, his voice strong as ever. His smile was small but there. A vow that he was here for whatever they would face, even when the enemy was his father.
“This will be a problem. Marcus is briefing His Majesty as we speak. But we need a contingency in case the Prime Alpha’s grip falters,” Julian said.
Caster gasped, his own turmoil taking a back seat to the new potential problem. “What?”
Julian occupied the seat Dean had abandoned minutes before. “I know there is growing discontent in his council. And that wolf, Zeke, he is one of many who didn’t like the treaty. If they join your uncle and the witch…”
Could Mark be against the treaty? Caster had no reason to believe that. A total breakdown of the agreement would bring back the war, and he couldn’t see Mark advocating for that.
“What are you thinking?” Caster held his breath for an answer he didn’t want.
“Marcus has asked me to look into Zeke, so I won’t make assumptions without information.” Julian stood, his inability to contain his frantic energy uncharacteristic. “I am meeting with James, who I think has a similar assignment. You’ll know as soon as I do.”
Caster nodded, granting Julian permission to leave. Kyle pulled the door closed as soon as Julian was out of sight.
“Are you OK?” Damien’s question startled him, but when he turned to his cousin, there was no pity, only unwavering conviction and support.
“I don’t know.” If he couldn’t be honest with Damien, he couldn’t be honest with anyone.
His cousin nodded, accepting the non-answer with little question. He stood. “Come on, let’s go spar for a while. You need to burn off some of that energy. There’s nothing we can do right now anyway, not until Marcus summons us.”
Caster accepted the distraction his cousin would provide. It only delayed the inevitable. He would need to see Mark soon. The desire to reassure himself Mark was well would soon overpower his need to be the responsible Crown Prince everyone expected him to be.