He should apologize, but his brother’s Alpha dominance pinned him to his seat, held his voice in a steel trap. The Prime Alpha was in control, and Mark was sure Dean was done dancing around the main issue.
“Listen.” Dean’s voice was low, but the intent of his words was not lost on Mark. “I understand your pain. I don’t feel it as you do; no one ever will, but you’re my brother, and it kills me. What happened to you tears me to shreds every day.” He sighed. “I wish I knew what to do to make it better, but I don’t.”
Mark looked at his clasped hands, the intensity of his brother’s honest words too much to bear.
“Look at me!”
Mark couldn’t disobey him if he wanted to.
“I can only give you vengeance.” He leaned back in his seat, the anger in his blue gaze dissipating into concern. “That’s the only reason I jumped at the chance when Caster called. It is the only reason I’m taking you with me.” He pushed a large hand through his hair, blowing out a breath. “Jesus Mark, I need you to be OK.”
Mark nodded. “I will be.”
Dean stared at him for an eternal moment before accepting his acquiescence with a curt nod. “I know you hate talking about this. This is the last time we’ll do it. But I need you to know you have my support the whole way. The vampires think we’re there to help them find and capture the witch, but I’m only there for you. This has eaten at you for too long, and I need my brother back.”
If Mark had any tears left to shed, they would have comepouring out of him now. Still, he sniffed back the overwhelming emotion threatening to undo the duct tape holding his heart together.
“You OK?”
Unintended laughter broke free from the mess of emotions, and he looked up to find a smile on his brother’s face. “I really will punch you in the face.”
Dean’s smile grew. “Yeah.” He stood. “Now, go get ready. We leave in two hours. God knows it takes you at least three to pack.”
He stayed in his seat, unsure his legs could take his weight. “Dean?”
His brother stopped mid-stride but didn’t turn around to face him. “Yeah…”
“I’m going to be.”
“Good.”
Hours of a bickering Council and a hunger for blood that would not abate, no matter how much he pushed it aside, threatened to ruin his day further. Caster rubbed at his eyes as he listened to his Head of Populations and Head of Security argue about what to do with the witch once they had her. His uncle Mason, his mother’s younger brother, wanted her executed on sight. Damien wanted her interrogated to find out where her immense power comes from.
“If we don’t understand her power, what’s to keep all of this from happening again, in the future?” Damien seemed as agitated as he felt.
“She’s too powerful to contain,” Mason said, rising from hisseat. “This is Riley’s idea, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and he’s right.” Caster didn’t need to raise his voice to end the argument. They needed to understand how she’d become so powerful if they had any hope of stopping her or preventing another witch from using the same power. That she used dark magic was not in dispute, yet no one, not even Riley, could figure out its source.
The rest of the council joined the argument, a chorus of agreements and disagreements blending into a melody, tearing at the last of his control. He’d only been in charge of the council for the last three decades, but already, he hated this part of the job. Still, he understood the need for varied opinions and a consensus.
He’d had enough when the bickering continued. Careful not to break another chair this time, Caster rose from his seat and sighed. The members of the council all stood as he left the room without another word.
His youngest brother, Benjamin, was there when he walked into his spacious study a few minutes later.
Ben smiled at him, and some of his exhaustion dissipated. “Hey.”
He sat behind his desk. “Is everything OK?” Caster knew his brother well enough to know something was not right about that smile. His green eyes, whose color had been intensified by the Change, held something Caster could never reach.
He pushed his hands into his pockets. “I’m fine.”
The tiny, almost imperceptible change in his heartbeat gave him away. As a Made-Vampire, Ben had to learn the art ofconcealing one’s emotions, and although he was close, he had yet to master it two centuries after Caster’s parents adopted him into the royal family.
Caster opened his mouth to call him on his lie, but Ben beat him to it. “I need to go out.”
“No!”
His voice rose. “Please… I’ll be with Cole and Mikey and…”