CHAPTER 40
Caster had never seen a werewolf move from wolf form to human form so fast and with little effort.
But as he caught a stumbling Mark in his arms, that was the least of his concerns.
He’d revisit that special quality about his already remarkable soulmate in a minute.
Right now, he was struck by both awe and fear of what he’d just witnessed.
Mark had fought back, almost killed Zeke, but that hum was as familiar as the way Mark’s muscles flexed in a gentle rhythm as he caught his breath.
He’d never been able to forget the sound of the Underworld’s call, one Peirce had described as irresistible minutes before it overwhelmed his intention to return to Mark.
Mark’s breath caught, and Caster followed his gaze to Riley. He glanced at Amara to find the same shocked expression on both their faces.
“What?” His tone was harsh, but not enough to draw both powerful witches’ attention away from Mark. They seemed both awed and afraid. The images in a mind Mark had left unguarded signaled a similar battle.
He ignored both Riley and Amara, the shocked gasp from Cy indicating he’d seen into Mark’s mind, just as easily and was now well informed. He reached for Mark’s shoulders. “Baby, take a breath.”
His response was a slight frown before his exquisite need to obey that command took over. He closed his eyes and swayed into Caster, who was only too eager to catch his momentum.
“Good,” he whispered. “Now put up that wall in your mind.”
Mark gasped, but it only took a second for the images streaming from his consciousness to disappear.
In those precious seconds, Caster’s patience snapped, and he looked at Riley, ready to reiterate his question. Riley exhaled and shook his head, seeming more tired than Caster had ever seen him.
“Perhaps we should take this inside?” Amara said, and Caster glanced at Mark, who nodded.
It was unclear how much time had been lost in their trip into Mark’s memory, but the horizon had long swallowed the sun, and Caster was thankful for the modest cover the darkness gave them as he led a nude Mark back to the house.
Damien, Dean, Cy, Julian and Kyle maintained the perimeter they had formed around them.
Their vigilance was not necessary, but it was always best to remain cautious where the witch was involved.
His mother frowned at him as he led Mark through the kitchen. She was here with the other witches, all feigning a calm none of them felt. He shook his head, silencing the concern she directed at Mark. It was time to take charge of the situation, lest they dissolve into madness.
Riley looked a little pale, and he resolved to question him about that later, so he turned to the other powerful witch in the room. “Are we in immediate danger?”
Amara shook her head, the elaborate head covering that had been concealing her hair now falling off to reveal graying, dark tresses. “There is no indication Ethel could sense us there.”
Mark remained close to him, his breath even, but the subtle shake in his muscles spoke of his fear. Caster took his hand, leading him to their room. “We’ll be right back.”
There was little objection from the others even as he sensed his brother at the kitchen’s door. He glanced at Cy, his steady gaze communicating his intent to battle anything that walked into the house uninvited, and he breathed a sigh as he led Mark away from the scrutiny.
In the safety of their closed space, he drew Mark into his arms, needing the same comfort he tried to provide.
He was loath to admit it, but until now, he’d battled the niggling insecurity that Zeke would forever remain a wedge in their love.
But as he watched Mark battle Zeke’s intentions in the midst of enough darkness to scare Riley, that insecurity was torn from him, replaced with a certainty that had him tightening his embrace.
“Are you OK?” His own voice was foreign as it sailed through their connection.
Mark nodded, or tried to, but even he seemed to need the anchor Caster was providing both. But the others would not wait too long. The need to end the threat the witch and her demon power carried was not just his own to bear, not when she threatened the entire supernatural community.
He eased his hold a fraction. “You might want to get dressed, my love.”
Mark tensed in his arms, only to sigh a fraction of a second later. “Don’t call me that.”
Caster held his eyes shut, that reaction understandable given what they’d just witnessed.
He put some distance between them, needing to see those brown eyes.
Mark kept his gaze lowered. “Look at me!”
The obedience was tentative, unsure, another reason that Alpha would die.
“He will never diminish the love I have for you. I won’t let…”
The kiss was unexpected, both in its intensity and speed.
He caught himself on Mark’s shoulders, allowing him to lead only for a second before the dominant in him took over.
Mark moaned his surrender, and the temptation to show him just how much he loved him reared its intent.
But he pulled back, calling on all his control to resist Mark’s frustrated moan and the way he chased his lips.
“The others won’t wait.”
Mark opened his eyes and then nodded, but neither moved. Instead, his hands rubbed at Caster’s forearms in an action that only intensified their arousal. “I fought him.” He raised his head, his brown eyes shining with the same realization Caster had arrived at. “I fought him for you.”
Caster had never been so proud as he was in that moment.
Mark had seen through the evil intent Zeke did not try too hard to hide.
It was clear the Alpha had never known Mark if he thought for a second he would betray his older brother.
“I am going to kill him.” It was a foregone conclusion, but he needed Mark to understand it.
Mark shook his head. “Not you. Dean.”
Caster frowned. “Why?”
Mark placed a single kiss on his lips and stepped away from the embrace, moving further into the room. “It’s the reason I didn’t kill him. It needs to be Dean or…”
When Caster caught up with him, he was already in a fresh pair of underwear, battling to get a t-shirt over his head. “The revolt?”
Mark won the fight with the piece of clothing, his movements impatient as he dressed with renewed urgency. “It’s the only way for Dean to re-assert his authority.” He shook his head. “He thinks I don’t know, but that revolt is bigger than he wants to share.”
“I will admit, I don’t understand wolf politics, but your brother says he has it handled.”
Mark nodded. “Sure. No one betrays Dean and lives to tell about it. But…”
He paused to button a pair of jeans he seemed uncomfortable in, and sighed at his bare feet like he was only now realizing he would need shoes as well.
“…if his authority is to remain unchallenged, he needs to kill Zeke in full view of the whole pack.”
“You’re saying we need to capture him alive.”
Mark found shoes and shoved his feet into the new pair before meeting Caster’s gaze. “Yeah! Bastian knows where he is.”
“Marcus says he’s not talking. He seems to think he has the upper hand somehow.”
Mark walked towards him, his momentum leading him out of the room, back into the fight, but Caster caught his arm.
“Bastian is not going anywhere. First, let’s go see if there is a way to keep Zeke from accessing your wolf again.”
Mark nodded, but there was a bit of doubt apparent in a skip of his heartbeat.
Caster pulled him closer. “Hey!” He waited for his frantic energy to calm, and grant him his full attention. “We’re so close to our forever. I won’t let anything get in the way of that.”
Mark smiled. “I am so glad I chose to see that terrifying memory.”
“Why?”
“It was the undeniable proof that he never loved me or cared for me.” He reached for Caster’s hand, threading their fingers together. “And that even then, unsure as I was of what it all meant, I loved you enough to fight my way back to you.”