“Where is he?” demanded Baltazar.
Dean glared at the vampire. A hello would have been nice. Not just barging into Dean’s home without so much as a by-your-leave. Dean wished the whole thing about vampires needing to be invited in was true.
“He has gone for a run,” said Dean.
“And what, he can’t take his phone with him?” snapped the vampire.
“He’s not flipping out jogging, Baltazar! He has gone for a run, as a wolf,” clarified Dean.
Baltazar scowled. “Call him with your mind-meld thing.”
“Mate bond,” corrected Dean, gritting his teeth. Reluctantly, he sent an image of the grumpy-looking vampire to Silas. A wave of displeasure rolled down the bond but Dean could feel him heading back.
Dean exchanged a worried look with Isaiah. Silas had been spending a lot of time as a wolf. Out in the woods on his own. Dean was worried. He knew Isaiah was worried too. That Silas was neglecting his Council duties to do so, was a whole new level of concern.
They didn’t wait in awkward silence for long. Silas soon trotted into the room in wolf form. The thought that he hadn’t been far away eased Dean’s anxiety. His mate going feral was another worry that he did not need. Dean’s wolf scoffed at the thought, convinced it wasn’t a problem at all. All Dean needed to do was run off into the woods with Silas. Staying as a wolf all the time was a great idea. Dean kept his wry chuckle to himself, of course his wolf would think that.
Wolf Silas sat down and cocked his head whilst staring at Baltazar in a gesture that clearly said, ‘Well, what do you want?’
“We’ve got intel on where a small remaining group of rebels are hiding.”
Wolf Silas stood up and walked out of the room. The vampire spluttered in indignation.
“Let him get dressed,” said Dean. “I’m guessing you don’t want to talk to him whilst he is naked?”
Baltazar glared at Dean but said nothing. Vampires were such prudes.
Silas came back in whilst tying a red silk robe around himself. “We watch them, but otherwise leave them alone.”
Baltazar made a noise of protest but Silas stopped him by raising a hand.
“They are merely stragglers, let them burn out under their own steam. If we kill them, we make them martyrs, which will only increase their ranks. It’s more powerful to seem disinterested, as if they are insignificant to us and not at all a threat.”
Baltazar stared for a moment, a strange look in his eye. Almost like he wanted to argue but something was stopping him. Silas stared back at him and frowned.
“We are not supposed to be an absolute power, Baltazar. We are supposed to be a guiding hand.”
The vampire blinked for a moment, standing completely still in that way vampires did that Dean found completely unnerving. Then he nodded decisively. A look of devotion in his eyes that alarmed Dean. It wasn’t in the least bit sexual, but it was unsettling for far darker reasons.
Dean’s thoughts whirled. When he had first met Silas, Baltazar’s flight had captured him because vampires, being undead, feared necromancers. Since that time, Baltazar and his flight had rebelled against the Council, defeated them and offered the throne to Silas. Dean had never heard any of the vamps say a bad word about his mate or voice any unease about his necromancy powers.
Dean swallowed. Had Silas been controlling them all along? Had everything worked out precisely as he had always planned? Were the vampires nothing more than Silas’s minions? Dean didn’t know whether to be impressed, awed, or terrified. Though he suspected, as with all things Silas, a combination was probably reasonable.
The vampire left and Silas sighed wearily before looking over at Dean and Isaiah and smiling.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Checking out new toys and decorations for the pups’ playroom. Maybe even completely remodeling it,” answered Dean, patting the space on the sofa next to him.
“Oh, cool,” said Silas, with genuine interest in his eyes.
He came over and sat beside Dean, curling up with his legs under him and resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. Dean turned his head to kiss the top of Silas’s.
Ash was at least twelve years old. Silas would never get to see his son play with toys. Dean winced at the thought. Silas had been pretty much a pup himself when Ash was born. There had never been any way he could have been a true father to his pup. It was awful.
Selfishly, Dean felt a wave of grief for himself. He had been robbed too. Any pups of Silas’s were his pups too. Dean would have felt that in his very soul, down to his very bones, even if they hadn’t been mated. Dean carefully hid his sigh. The past was past. All they could do now was find their pup and bring him home to his family.
And they would find him. Dean reassured himself. He was an Alpha and Silas was not only Grand Master but, well, Silas. Nothing was going to stand in their way. It was all going to be fine.
