Silas was still and quiet for the longest of times. So long that Dean began to think that the necromancer wasn’t going to answer him. When he did eventually speak, his voice was barely a whisper.
“He stopped me from incinerating everyone in the hall.”
Dean said nothing. He wasn’t sure there was anything to say to that. Silas clearly felt awful about it, but Dean couldn’t bring himself to blame his mate. He was selfish enough to be proud. Proud that when scared, probably terrified, and thrown not only into a heat but dark terrible memories, his mate had lashed out to defend himself.
Silas had seen and scented someone that was like Greenwood. His panicked wolf had likely thought that awful night of long ago was about to be repeated. No wonder part of Silas was determined to do everything in his formidable power to prevent it.
It was no one’s fault that PTSD and formidable power were such a terrible combination. Dean didn’t think there was likely to be a solution for that. The only thing he could do was to keep Silas safe. Never let him get scared again.
“Everyone saw I was scared,” sniffed Silas.
“Everyone was terrified,” reassured Dean. “Even me.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.”
Silas sniffed again. “You say the nicest things.”
Dean smiled tenderly. His mate didn’t want to hurt anyone, but he still wanted them all to fear him. It was strangely adorable.
“Let’s go home,” was all Dean said.
Silas nodded and scrambled to his feet. Dean climbed up as well. He helped Silas pull up his trousers and redo his studded belt. When his mate looked respectable, Dean turned his attention to himself. His jeans had a button fly. He looked down. Used to have a button fly, he corrected. There were no buttons left. He didn’t even remember ripping them open, or if Silas had.
Silas glanced at Dean holding his jeans up with one hand and he visibly flinched. His already pale face growing even paler. It tore at Dean’s heart. He needed to get Silas home and convince him that none of what had happened was his fault.
Holding his jeans, Dean walked over to the nearest side door. As soon as he opened it, the blond mage was there. She tried to peek over Dean’s shoulder, but he blocked her view. He’d left Silas standing alone in the middle of the hall looking all disheveled, his head bowed and his arms wrapped tightly around himself.
“Open a portal door to our home please,” asked Dean sternly.
The mage nodded eagerly and made an intricate gesture with her hand. Behind Dean, a yellow tinted portal opened. He nodded his thanks and shut the wooden door in her face.
Dean quickly took Silas’s arm and led him through the portal before it could close. The dizzying nausea passed quickly and Dean found they were right in their bedroom. He breathed a silent prayer of thanks to the mage and maneuvered Silas onto the bed, where he pulled him into a tight spoon and just held him. Both of them just lying there, on top of the covers. Fully dressed. Dean decided he would get them undressed and properly in bed once Silas had calmed down some more. It was the best he could do.
Chapter five
Whenhewassurethat Silas was fast asleep, Dean slipped out of bed. It was past dinnertime but still early evening. Exhaustion had knocked Silas out. But Dean had plans. He needed to go back to the Council Chamber and confront Greenwood’s brother.
To do that, he needed to find Thom and get the mage to open a portal door. The Council Chamber was hundreds of miles away. The only way they could manage both pack and council was through the frequent use of magic portals.
Dean padded around the main house, but instead of finding Thom, he found Eifion in the kitchen. Dean automatically looked around for Brogan. It was rare for the alpha not to be acting like the mage’s shadow, but Eifion appeared to be alone. It was a stroke of luck. Eifion was second on his list of people he needed to talk to. Dean had been planning on finding him as soon as he had dealt with Greenwood’s brother. Now it appeared that fate had decided that this conversation should come first.
The mage was taking a sandwich from the pile of snacks the kitchen crew always left out. Edie had told Dean it was to stop people messing up the fridges and cupboards by raiding it for snacks. Dean thought she was secretly a softy who loved feeding her pack.
Eifion turned to face him with his strange purple eyes. Dean was surprised the mage was home, in the pack house, when he had assumed Eifion would still be at the Council Chamber, dealing with the aftermath. Dean swallowed. From what Silas had told him, it sounded like Eifion had really saved the day. He had stood up to Silas and got everyone to safety by putting himself in the firing line.
Facing a pissed off Silas was no mean feat. Eifion was incredibly brave and Silas had nearly killed him for it. Dean was quite sure if he hadn’t arrived just when he had, and stepped in front of Eifion, things would have ended very badly.
“Thank you,” Dean said earnestly.
The silver-haired mage just nodded. Dean could understand that he was probably mightily pissed off, he just hoped Silas had not gained a nemesis.
Dean took in a deep breath. “He probably won’t say it but he is really truly sorry.”
Eifion shrugged, looking unconvinced.
“He’s not an asshole, that’s not why he won’t say sorry,” Dean heard himself blurt out. “He had a spectacularly shitty childhood, then that awful night, then he was all alone for ten long years. He never had the chance to learn people skills.”
