CHAPTER 8
The helicopter ride to his cabin was short.
Kyle, at Marcus’s directive, had insisted on increased security for them.
Caster had understood their argument when he’d called to let Marcus know he would need a few days alone with Mark, but he resented the extra attention.
Marcus, his mother, to be more accurate, had gone overboard.
Caster didn’t need the extra protection.
He and Kyle were often enough to neutralize any threats.
He’d agreed to the contingent of ten Born-Vampire guards surrounding his property to ease his mother’s worry.
She hadn’t been happy with his decision to come here, but Mark’s plea for his control had been and would always be Caster’s priority. That resurrected Alpha wolf and the witch would pay with their lives if they threatened that in any way.
He squeezed Mark’s hand again, unwilling to let him go even for a second as the front door swung open. His long-time house manager, Vincent, a Made- Vampire who’d been turned before the war, nodded his welcome, knowing words were not necessary.
Mark’s mind remained shuttered, and as much as he missed the intimacy his open mind often granted them, he was thankful he’d remembered to put that barrier up before they left.
“Mark, this is Vincent.” This meeting had been long overdue. Vincent had been away visiting his family, leaving his duty to the efficient Sophie. He’d been gutted when he learned of her injuries after the witch’s attack, blaming himself for not being there.
Vincent smiled, his weathered features displaying his considerable age even though his features maintained the youth of the thirty-eight-year-old he’d been when he was turned. “It is very nice to meet you.” He stepped to the side, indicating the dining room. “I have everything ready, Your Highness.”
He didn’t need to remind Vincent of his need for privacy. He’d remained a trusted member of his father’s household because of his discretion more than his attention to detail, which was impeccable.
Mark’s gasp rose above the sound of Vincent closing the door behind them.
Caster smiled as he led him to the table prepared for him. He gestured for him to sit. “I know you’re hungry.”
Thoughts of denial started to flow past a mind whose barrier was gone, and Caster shook his head, stopping them in their tracks. “Baby, I need you to keep your mind closed.”
Mark sat at the table, but that barrier went up again. “I don’t want to.”
Caster laughed when Mark filled his plate with every selection on the table. “Hungry?”
Mark looked up, the expression on his face a little bashful, though a smile did break through. “I may have forgotten to eat yesterday.”
Caster poured a cup of coffee, his plate a modest one compared to Mark’s.
He’d also forgotten to feed the last few days, and his need for blood would soon demand his attention.
“There are too many vampires here.” He took a sip, his mind wandering to more pleasurable pursuits as Mark moaned around the latest bite of the fluffy scrambled eggs.
“I’d hoped we could be alone, but my mother wasn’t having it.”
Mark stared at him, and even with his mind closed, the questions slipped past his unguarded expression.
“My parents think the safest place for you is my father’s house. We were supposed to go there. But I need you to myself.”
Mark placed his fork on the plate, patting his lips dry with the napkin. “Your parents?”
He smiled, enjoying Mark’s discomfort. “My father was looking forward to meeting you today.”
Mark’s inhale was sharp. “Me?”
Caster nodded. “Yes, you. He all but ordered it.”
“Should we keep him waiting? He’s the King…”
Caster shook his head, nodding at Mark’s forgotten plate.
“Eat. You will not have a chance to do so again, not any time soon.”
He took another sip of the wonderful coffee.
Vincent was a master at making sure everything was just how he liked it.
“And yes… in this context, he’s not the King; he’s my father, and he will wait. Mother is the one we need to worry about.”
Mark frowned but resumed his meal with renewed gusto.
“Don’t be surprised if she comes to find us if we take too long.”
“That’s where Mikey is. At your father’s house?”
Caster leaned back in his chair, his desire for Mark overriding his need for nourishment. “Marcus will keep him safe, and Dean is aware of all of this. Now, let’s not think about them anymore, yes?”
He didn’t know how long they would have before the outside world imposed on their privacy, but he intended to make each moment a memory they wouldn’t soon forget.
Mark lowered his gaze, hiding behind the latest sip of coffee. Good.
Unable to wait any longer, Caster pushed out of his chair and held out his hand. Mark didn’t question him, didn’t hesitate. He placed his hand in Caster’s, following him through the quiet, small space toward the room where they would be free to be with each other in every way.
Caster moved through the space with renewed purpose.
The strong, steady beat of Mark’s heart reached his senses, the trust he gave so freely threatening the control he held on to.
He abandoned the steady rhythm for a second to zero in on the others in the house.
Kyle had his instructions, and the considerable army he’d brought kept a distance.
Available should they be needed, but well away from the compound to provide privacy.
The rhythm of Vincent’s calm heartbeat joined the chorus, but Caster didn’t worry about him.
He knew when he was needed and when to stay away.
The memory of the last time he’d brought Mark here, when Riley had teleported them both here, flowed through his mind as they walked past the room Mark had occupied that day.
The flutter of Mark’s fingers against his and the unmistakable scent of his arousal were an indication he remembered that night with as much vivid detail.
Caster led Mark past that door, down the hall to another room, one he hadn’t used in a while. He released his hold on Mark’s hand, reached into his pocket for the key, and unlocked the door, pushing it open.
He gestured for Mark to move past him into the dim-lit space and smiled at the unrestrained gasp filling the silence. His joy turned to pride when Mark stumbled, his exhale ending in a moan so sinful, Caster’s cock twitched.