CHAPTER 22
Mark hadn’t meant to distract Caster. In truth, it was his fault. That look, the look of undisguised desire he gave him every time they were alone, was impossible to ignore. Now, they were late to meet the King, and he was beyond nervous.
He fumbled with the buttons of the crisp white shirt that he’d found in the closet.
Everything in there was new, unfamiliar, which just added to the nerves he couldn’t contain.
The size was perfect, but he was still constricted by it all.
At least Caster was in the living area talking to Kyle; another distraction as pleasurable as those were would be a bad idea.
Part of their conversation floated towards him, something about Amelia’s travel plans.
He sighed and walked towards the living area, his belly awash with the unsettling feeling of impending dread. He was about to meet the most powerful person in the world, even if that power had to remain concealed from humans.
Caster smiled at him as he approached. Put up that barrier. This is not the time to leave your mind open.
Mark glanced at Kyle as he followed Caster’s instructions.
Kyle gave him a curt nod, his usual impassive face revealing nothing.
He walked to the door without another word.
Mark was so lost in the thousands of ways his first impression on the King would go wrong, he failed to notice Caster had moved until he was right in front of him.
He gave in to the need for his strength, his palms finding the soft material of Caster’s dark charcoal shirt.
“Look at me!”
His eyes were a few shades lighter, the red ring around the pupils so subdued, it was almost imperceptible.
Caster’s hand was in his hair, the touch meant as a comfort, but bringing forth the subtle hum of the beginnings of his arousal. “You have nothing to worry about.”
He leaned into Caster’s strength, his confidence, and nodded.
“Ready?”
He released a breath and nodded again, certain his voice would be too small.
Caster reached for his hand, threaded their fingers together, and he allowed himself to float along, carried by his dominant’s momentum. Their strides, the click of their shoes on the marble-floored silent hallways, and his own breath were his focus.
Caster squeezed his hand. He will love you.
The house was huge, the emptiness adding an eerie quality to the silence.
They didn’t see anyone as Caster moved with purpose, barely allowing him to take in his new surroundings.
They stopped in front of a heavy double door, its handles gleaming with the light from the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The sun’s brightness seemed dimmer. It was either early evening or the windows had a subtle tint he couldn’t make out.
The heavy doors swung open with a whisper, and there was another vampire there.
He was as tall and broad as Kyle, his thick black hair swaying as he tilted his head and stepped aside for them to enter.
He must be the King’s bodyguard. Mark glanced behind him to see the door close behind the bodyguard as Caster squeezed his hand, leading him into the room.
It reminded Mark of Caster’s study. The same floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined three of its four walls, a sheer gold curtain on the only window, allowing natural light into the room.
He saw Marcus first, and the familiar vampire, still as intimidating as he’d been when they met, smiled at him.
He’d only started to relax when the chair behind the massive desk turned, and he was held still by gray eyes, a replica of Caster’s.
He restrained his gasp as the King smiled, rose from his seat, and held out his hand in greeting.
“Hello, Mark. It is so nice to meet you.”
The King smiled wider, and Mark realized he’d kept him waiting.
He took his hand too fast, regretting his quick action in the next instant, but the King didn’t seem fazed.
He looked so much like his son, it was impossible not to stare. Every vampire in the room chuckled, and he lowered his gaze, mortified at having lost control of that barrier again.
The King moved toward him, and he was surprised when his arm came around his shoulders. “I hope you’ll feel welcome here.” He pulled Mark towards the couch against the window, urging him to sit. “First, let me apologize for what my nephew did to you. I promise he will pay for that.”
Mark shook his head. “You don’t have to, Your Majesty. I…”
The King waved away the rest of his words. “None of that formality. You are part of this family now.”
It was a command, much like the pronouncements he was getting used to from Caster, and he couldn’t help his smile. He glanced at Caster, his matching smile warming him, giving him permission to relax further.
“We should go. X and Cy are here, and there is a lot to discuss,” Marcus said, interrupting his joy.
But Caster’s subtle shake of the head kept him on the couch.
“Go,” the King said. “Mark and I have a lot of catching up to do.”
The panic he readied himself for did not come as he watched Marcus and Caster walk to the door.
Both sides of him were comfortable here with Caster’s father.
A year ago, a few weeks ago, the very thought that he would be in a room with the King of the Vampires without the desire to run would have been impossible to even contemplate.
He accepted the crystal tumbler the King handed him and took a sip.
The King sat next to him. “Now, tell me about yourself. I want to know everything.”
***
Caster would always feel strange walking away from Mark.
Even in the safety of his father’s house, with his father, he still worried that Zeke would find a way to attack him, and he wouldn’t be there to protect him.
But Marcus was right; there was a lot to discuss.
He relaxed as his father’s bodyguard closed the door to the study with a curt nod, before blocking the entry with his body, the ever-reliable sentry that would guard both Mark and his father.
It was irrational to worry about security in a house covered by so many protection and cloaking spells, it was almost invisible, but Caster was never rational when it came to Mark.
He was certain he wouldn’t relax until that witch was no longer a threat.
His brother’s presence was a welcome gift.
Cyrus was a formidable, reliable warrior who’d proven his worth so many times on the battlefield.
Damien’s brother Xavier was just as strong, and their combined considerable battle expertise would soon be tested.
Familiar raucous, almost riotous conversation flowed past Marcus’s study door as they approached, and Caster smiled, allowing his tense muscles to bend to the relaxation only the safety of family provided.
They were all here. He lengthened his strides, moving past Marcus and pushing the door open just as Cyrus threw his head back, his laugh booming through the room.
His brother’s mirth and the noise in the whole room died down to a hum at his interruption.
Cyrus stood and walked towards Caster, the look on his face as thunderous as the energy preceding his strides.
To anyone else, the reaction would be threatening, unsettling.
But Caster had grown used to his brother’s sudden mood changes.
He was more like their mother in that way.
Still, he braced himself for Cyrus’s intensity even as he knew he could do nothing to avoid it.
His brother surprised him by stopping within touching distance, releasing a breath in an uncharacteristic sigh, and then pulling him in for a hug.
The embrace tightened a fraction before he was allowed control of his own body.
Cy didn’t step back, and the teasing words, the smile that had started to grow, fell back into a frown at the look on his face.
Cy’s hand patted Caster’s shoulder with more force than necessary. “If you try to die on me again, I will save us all the trouble of rescuing you and tear your head off myself.”
Caster couldn’t help his smile. Damien, Xavier, and Marcus laughed, but Cyrus brushed away their mother’s admonishment, stepping away from Caster like he hadn’t just threatened to murder his own brother.
He resumed his seat next to their mother. “So, where is he?”
“With your father,” Marcus answered before Caster could, and he realized they were talking about Mark.
Caster was not surprised that his brother was well informed of his situation.
Cy’s version of Kyle was an efficient vampire who made it his business to know everything, in case any of it proved a threat to his charge.
Not that his brother needed that much protection.
Cy caught his eye. “He’s OK?”
Caster could only nod. Until now, he hadn’t realized how much he needed his brother.
“Good.”
“Fucking Bastian,” Xavier said, and the whole room voiced a similar sentiment.
“No!” The Queen’s voice interrupted their boisterous discussion of everything Bastian had done, most of it curses, and what they would do to him if they found him.
Everyone went quiet. It was impossible to overcome his mother when she was determined.
“You listen to me. You will find Bastian and bring him home. Am I clear?”
Hushed affirmative responses and a few grumbles followed her rare display of anger. Caster glanced at Marcus to see a small smile.
His mother stood, smoothed out her dress, and sighed. “I love having all of you home. But as long as Bastian is still out there, this family is incomplete. I don’t want him harmed.”
“Yes, Mother.” Damien’s chagrined tone reflected Caster’s feelings.
He may have been the chief cause of Mark’s pain a decade ago, but Bastian was still family.
His mother was right. They couldn’t hope to hold all of vampire-kind together against the considerable threat that was the witch and her growing army if they couldn’t hold their family together.
As she left the room, quieter than it had been when Caster first walked in, he couldn’t help the familiar conflict that had started to build the moment he knew he couldn’t live without Mark.
Would his soulmate understand his need to protect Bastian after everything his young cousin had done?
Or would this be a new point of tension, tearing at the fragility of their relationship?