His cousin was the only person who could sense his unease, and Caster thanked him for not asking. He was unsure if he had any answers. A lengthy existence meant he’d experienced instant attraction before, but not under these circumstances. Mark was werewolf royalty, Dean’s brother. Only hell would result from any attempt to act on his attraction. Perhaps it was one-sided, or he’d gone too long without a man in his bed, that he saw attraction where there was none.
The announcement that dinner was served saved him from further analyzing the situation. Their unified goal was singular: find the witch and end her killing spree. He couldn’t lose sight of it, not for anything.
The event’s formality meant everyone had an assigned seat, his at the head of the table. Most of the council, except for Damien and Mason, opted to skip the dinner. Soon, easyconversation flowed, and Caster entertained the hope that maybe they could work together after all. It was not lost on him that Dean had only brought two wolves. He and Dean had forged a friendship borne of respect over the years, but as the Prime Alpha once told him, expecting wolves and vampires to break bread together was a step too far. The atrocities of the war had seen to that.
He glanced at Mark, who sat between his brothers, his body stiff, almost primed for attack. He stabbed at the steak on his plate, sipping his wine. His demeanor punctuated the tension filling the room, even as his younger brother Mikey and Ben chatted away about Cole’s latest party.
“So…” The Prime Alpha said loud enough for the room to turn its attention to him. “Where are we on finding the witch?”
“I thought we’d start tomorrow, once you have settled in.” Caster was aware of Mark’s sharp intake of breath. He didn’t want to be here.
Dean shrugged. “I don’t think some of us want to settle in too much. The faster we get this done, the easier it will be.”
Caster stole a glance at Mark to find him staring daggers at his brother.
“I have tried all the locator spells I know, but I can’t even come close,” Riley said.
“Perhaps you are not as powerful as you think,” Mark said, the contempt clear in his quiet, calm tone.
It was Dean’s turn to glare at his brother.
Riley didn’t seem fazed. “I assure you, I am more powerful than your imagination can muster.” His calm smile belied thedangerous intent beneath. “You’ll see it soon enough.”
The Prime Alpha’s blue eyes bore into Caster’s as he pointed at Riley. “Did he just threaten my brother?”
“This is getting out of hand,” Damien said, drawing the Prime Alpha’s ire. “We all have the same goal here. Do you think we can keep it together until it’s done?”
“The witch threatens us all.” Caster didn’t back away from the Prime Alpha’s challenge. “If I could do this on my own, I wouldn’t have called you, you know that.”
An almost imperceptible nod was all the answer he needed. Disaster averted, for the time being, the dinner dissolved into light conversation. The tension he sensed in Mark didn’t dissipate, and he didn’t once look at Caster, his full attention on a meal he seemed disinterested in.
Mark couldn’t wait for the dinner to be over. He hadn’t intended to antagonize Riley. It was clear his power was enough to tear him apart, but Mark had been crawling out of his skin since he’d met the Crown Prince. He refused to use his name. That would signal a familiarity with the vampire he didn’t intend to encourage. Still, in the prince’s presence, his wolf was restless, clawing at the barrier keeping him contained with an intensity Mark had almost forgotten.
He stared at the gigantic bed in his assigned room, unsure if he could trust it. His body begged him to fall into the oblivion of sleep, but he was certain he couldn’t relax enough to do it. The room with its adjacent sitting area and attached spaciousbathroom was decorated in pure white, spotless, and almost new. He didn’t envy whoever had to clean it.
Mark dared to sit on the bed, but as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t take off his boots and get comfortable. The restlessness of his wolf bled through the barrier, something that hadn’t happened since the last time he’d transformed ten years ago.
He sighed as the pain of that memory threatened to undo him. In these moments, the outdoors helped, but Mark didn’t know if he could trust vampires not to attack him the moment he set foot outside his room.
He reached for his last remaining heightened senses and tried to eavesdrop on the outside. The sounds of the forest he’d seen earlier called to his wolf. He couldn’t transform, but perhaps the night air would calm his restless animal.
He picked up his jacket and opened the door before he could talk himself out of it. If any vampire saw it fit to bother him, they’d find out why he was the Werewolf Council’s Head of Security. Now, if he could just find his way to the front door without running into one.
The unfamiliar halls seemed similar, but the call of the night air guided him to the front door. He reached for the handle as it swung open, and he bumped into the one person he hoped he wouldn’t have to see.
The half-smirk on the Crown Prince’s face was almost as mortifying as his response to their proximity. Aware of the very male body standing too close to him, Mark wanted to step back, but found he couldn’t move. To anyone else, it was an irrational response, but Mark knew it well, had only felt its overwhelmingforce with one other person.
Hate, spiteful, and toxic coursed through his system as he dared compare this vampire to the only man he would ever love. Still, the submissive in him couldn’t help but respond to the dominant in front of him in predictable fashion.
“Out for a stroll?” The voice stole the last of his control, and his breath shortened. The gradual loss of breath worried his fragmented mind.
The source of his torment tilted his head to the side, and Mark dropped his gaze, the pristine white shirt stretching over the Crown Prince’s wide chest a safer prospect than his gray eyes.
The world narrowed further, and his lungs failed him as Caster closed the distance, whispering, “If you’re going to stop breathing every time I talk to you, this will be very unpleasant for you.”
Mark couldn’t form a coherent thought with him this close. Why was this happening? Why him?
“Look at me!”