“It’s okay, I’ll take him aside with Atticus and we will explain everything,” said Luca, his face shining with kindness.
Silas bit his tongue. This was his little brother, he couldn’t be mean, damn it. He wanted the little brat to like him, but he definitely didn’t want his pity. It was infuriating. He had no idea what to do. So he ran away. He gave Luca a curt nod, turned on his heels, and fled. Damn it!
He needed to find Isaiah and get some advice on how to be scary and likable at the same time. Isaiah was great with people, if he didn’t know, no one would.
Chapter twenty-two
Silaswanderedaroundthepack house looking for his friend. The playroom was a good bet, so he tried there next, but it was Malachi who was watching the pups.
Cyrus trilled with excitement when he saw Silas and ran over to cling onto his leg. Silas smiled down at him and ruffled his head. He was growing up so fast.
“Do you know where Isaiah is?” Silas asked Malachi.
“He’s gone for a dirty weekend with Zayne,” answered Malachi with a grin.
Silas hid his stab of pain. “Oh, so are you looking after this little monster all weekend?”
Malachi beamed. “Sure am.”
Silas wondered why Isaiah hadn’t asked him or even told him he was going. It hurt far more than it should. Cyrus abandoned him to go back to playing with his friends. Silas watched him go with a wistful sigh before fishing his phone out of his pocket. He scrolled through it. Buried under hundreds of messages about Council business was a message from Isaiah.
Silas sighed. He was a terrible friend, no wonder Isaiah hadn’t asked him. He was too busy to even reply to a message, so of course he’d be terrible at looking after Cyrus. Dread snaked through Silas, how on earth was he going to look after his own son? Silas tried to tell himself that pre-teens were less time consuming than toddlers and he wouldn’t be spending time looking for Ash once he was home.
“His heat is coinciding with Zayne’s rut. They are going to have a wild time!” giggled Malachi, shaking Silas from his thoughts.
Silas stared at the healer for a long moment. “Oh gods, he is going to come back pregnant, isn’t he?”
Malachi’s eyes widened. “You can deliver it.”
“You’re the healer!” protested Silas.
“You did a grand job with Cyrus,” argued Malachi.
Silas crossed his arms. “Fine, we can do it together,” he compromised.
Malachi grinned at him before his expression sobered. “How are you?”
Silas narrowed his eyes. “Is that Malachi or the pack healer asking?”
“Both.” Shrugged Malachi.
“I’m fine,” answered Silas warily.
“Really?” questioned Malachi. “You were thrown, which is no fun at all, and then your mate died in your arms.”
“Dean told you I was thrown?” asked Silas calmly, trying to fight his sense of betrayal.
“He wanted to know how to take care of you, how to help,” said Malachi carefully. His eyes wide and worried.
Silas sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. Malachi was the healer, it wasn’t like Dean was gossiping. The alpha had been trying to do the right thing. Silas took a deep breath and let it go. It was fine. Then his mind caught up with Malachi’s words and tone. There had definitely been something in them.
“Have you been thrown?” Silas asked, then cursed himself. It was a very personal question and absolutely none of his business.
Malachi turned away to look at the pups and gave a sharp nod.
Silas swallowed uncomfortably. Shit, he really hadn’t meant to upset Malachi and bring up dark memories. He liked the healer. Fixing Dean’s body so well had made Malachi one of his favorite people in the world.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Silas said awkwardly. Fuck, he was terrible at this.
