Silas winced and closed his eyes. “The servants died. Artemis was banished back to hell, but he had been planning on going home for a few hundred years.”
Guilt and grief flowed down the bond. Dean could tell that Silas felt ashamed that he hadn’t been able to stop it. He pulled Silas into a hug.
“They torched the place. The house was lovely, and the library was one of the most impressive collections of magic knowledge in the world,” continued Silas, pressed against Dean’s chest. “I was never brave enough to see if anything survived before. I set the spell so no one would pillage the place and I fled.”
Suddenly, Silas pushed himself away from Dean and strode away determinedly. Dean trailed after him. Picking his way over the rubble. Silas had lost his home and his friends. Dean remembered when he thought Silas was ruthless and cold. The more he learned about his mate’s past, the more he couldn’t understand how he wasn’t a complete psycho.
“Did you get them?” he asked.
He knew Silas would not want to let the hunters get away with what they had done. But that desire didn’t mean he had been able to catch them. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he cursed himself. Reminding Silas of his failure was a dick move.
Silas glanced back over his shoulder with a truly evil grin and a dark malevolence gleaming in his eyes. Dean beamed back, his heart swelling with glee and pride. Fuck those hunters. His mate was such a badass. He should have known there was no need to doubt Silas.
Grinning to himself, Dean carefully picked his way over the shattered remains of the mansion. The necromancer seemed to know exactly where he was going.
He followed Silas to something that had clearly once been a library. Charcoaled bookshelves stood in neat rows. The necromancer ran his fingers over the ashes that had presumably once been books. Dean cast his gaze around. The library had been big. The house had been huge. Silas had lived in a mansion with a demon.
“Was he your boyfriend?” he blurted out.
Silas gave him an amused look, his dark eyes sparkling. “Friend, teacher and lover.”
Dean scowled. He knew Silas hadn’t exactly been chaste before meeting him. It wasn’t like Dean had been a monk either, but he was powerless before the jealousy that flooded him.
Silas walked up to him and twined his fingers into Dean’s shirt. “You should be thankful,” he teased. “Artemis taught me pretty much everything I know.”
Dean bristled. Silas’s smirk vanished, his dark eyes turning angry.
“Don’t be a dick, Dean. He was my first consensual partner. He was kind and helped me turn from a traumatized mess to someone who loves sex.”
Dean winced. He did sometimes wonder how Silas was such a sex god, despite what had happened to him. Now he knew, because Silas was opening up and telling him stuff. Dean didn’t want to ruin that by being a possessive jerk. Silas found it hard enough to open up as it was, he didn’t need any more discouragement or obstacles.
“I’m sorry Angel,” Dean said passionately. “I just wish I had met you sooner, and it had been me.”
“Ugh.” Shuddered Silas. “Hell no. I like that most of the time you are neither scared of me nor feeling sorry for me. It makes us equals.”
Dean raised his eyebrows. That was incredibly insightful and sweet. It made him feel very special. Nearly everyone else in the world was terrified of his mate.
“It’s probably because I’m far too busy being horny for you,” he confessed.
Silas laughed, his dark eyes glinting. Dean smiled and told himself his feelings of inadequacy upon hearing that Silas had previously had a demon lover were ludicrous, when the necromancer was looking at him with that look in his eyes. Silas clearly wanted him and no one else. That knowledge made Dean the proudest man in the universe.
Dean was about to kiss Silas when he caught a movement in the corner of his eye. A blur of shadow moving fast. He couldn’t smell a thing which freaked his wolf out.
“Company,” he whispered.
Silas’s eyes widened and he summoned his magic. Stepping away from Dean to face the threat. Dean’s eyes darted frantically, trying to take in what he was seeing. Slithering shadows oozed from nowhere, gliding over the debris to surround them.
“What the fuck are they?” hissed Dean.
“Shadowkin,” answered Silas, concern flowing down the bond.
Dean had never heard of shadowkin. He didn’t like this at all. Moving, sentient shadows? That could not be good.
“How fucked are we?” he asked.
“Very,” said Silas, not taking his eyes off of the shadows.
Dean’s heart sank. Would it kill his mate to lie and be reassuring? But Dean supposed that honesty was the best policy in life and death situations. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as the shadows inched closer. They were completely surrounded.
