The idea of passing on a wealthy, prosperous pack when the time came warmed Dean’s heart. He stared at the spreadsheet some more before admitting defeat. None of it was making any sense anymore. He needed to take a break. He stretched and yawned, thoughts immediately turning to wondering if Silas was home.
A quick peek down the mate bond showed Dean the cold Council Chamber and gave him a sense of Silas’s boredom. Dean chuckled. Poor Silas stuck in another meeting. Maybe their time on the run hadn’t been all that bad after all. There certainly had been no spreadsheets or meetings to deal with.
Dean stood up and decided to head to his and Silas’s room for a bit. He could relax in there for a while. Perhaps read a book. As he walked, he thought of his mate. Silas seemed well. It had been two weeks since he had been thrown into a heat. He was still a little on edge and Dean could tell anxiety about losing control played on his mind. But for the most part, he had eventually accepted Dean’s insistence that it had been a horrid but unlikely set of circumstances that were unlikely to repeat themselves.
Dean opened the door to the bedroom and blinked. It took a moment for his mind to register what his eyes were seeing. The mattress had been pulled off of the bed and shoved into the far corner. The bed frame had been pushed away into another corner, like it was unwanted trash needing to be disposed of.
Surrounding the mattress on the floor were all sorts of fluffy cushions and huge pillows, effectively making the mattress twice as big. The whole creation was strewn with covers, quilts, throws and blankets. Bright clashing colors and all either fluffy or silky.
Gauzy pink curtains were hung from the ceiling around the strange bed-thing. Thick purple velvet curtains hung over the windows at the back, blocking out all natural light.
Multi colored fairy lights were strewn haphazardly along the walls and twinkling merrily.
Dean gawped helplessly for a long moment. Then he scented again. It was definitely only Silas who had been in the bedroom. No crazy person had broken in.
Dean whirled around and set off at a pace. He burst through Isaiah and Zayne’s door and heard Isaiah give a little yelp of surprise. Dean felt a flash of guilt. He really should have knocked.
Isaiah stared at him, his brown eyes wide. Then he carefully put down the pair of jeans he had been folding onto the neat pile of other laundry that was on his bed. Zayne and Cyrus were nowhere to be seen.
“Are you okay, Alpha?” asked Isaiah.
Dean nodded and then shook his head. “Come with me!” he said before turning back to his room. He really didn’t have the words.
Isaiah followed him obediently. When they got back to Dean and Silas’s room, Dean hurriedly opened the door, pulled the little omega inside, and slammed the door shut behind them. No one else needed to see this.
“What the fuck is this?” asked Dean, managing to find some words.
He stared at Isaiah’s face as the omega took it all in. His brown eyes widened and his jaw dropped.
“Well?” Dean demanded impatiently, “Is he sick?”
Isaiah looked up at him and flushed. “No, he’s not sick.”
“What’s wrong then?”
“Is his heat due soon?” asked Isaiah.
Dean opened his mouth and then closed it again. He wasn’t sure if Isaiah knew. He was Silas’s best friend, but the necromancer wasn’t exactly the emotionally sharing type.
“He… he was thrown, so we don’t know when his next heat will be.” Dean felt awful for telling Isaiah, but it might be important and related to whatever the hell was going on.
Isaiah nodded, his eyes darkening with anger. Dean sighed in relief, the omega had known.
“Well, it looks like it’s going to be soon,” said Isaiah, gesturing to the room. “It’s nothing to worry about, Alpha, and it’s nothing to do with… what happened.”
Dean ran his hand through his hair. He was so glad to hear that.
“So what the hell is going on?”
Isaiah flushed again and chewed his bottom lip. His large brown eyes stared at Dean imploringly for a long moment before surrendering with an anguished sigh.
“Oh heavens, please do not tell Silas you heard it from me. He will cut out my tongue!”
Dean stared back at Isaiah, crossed his arms and waited. The omega glared back at him stubbornly. Eventually Dean relented.
“Okay, okay, I won’t tell Silas you said anything,” he promised. It seemed it was the only way he was going to get any answers.
Isaiah took a deep breath. Dean felt apprehension clutching at his stomach. Despite the little omega’s earlier assurances, this seemed bad, really bad.
