Page 35 of Only You, No One Else

Cy caught his eye. “He’s OK?”

Caster could only nod. Until now, he hadn’t realized how much he needed his brother.

“Good.”

“Fucking Bastian,” Xavier said, and the whole room voiced a similar sentiment.

“No!” The Queen’s voice interrupted their boisterous discussion of everything Bastian had done, most of it curses, and what they would do to him if they found him. Everyone went quiet. It was impossible to overcome his mother when she was determined. “You listen to me. You will find Bastian and bring him home. Am I clear?”

Hushed affirmative responses and a few grumbles followed her rare display of anger. Caster glanced at Marcus to see a small smile.

His mother stood, smoothed out her dress, and sighed. “I love having all of you home. But as long as Bastian is still out there, this family is incomplete. I don’t want him harmed.”

“Yes, Mother.” Damien’s chagrined tone reflected Caster’s feelings. He may have been the chief cause of Mark’s pain a decade ago, but Bastian was still family. His mother was right. They couldn’t hope to hold all of vampire-kind together against the considerable threat that was the witch and her growing army if they couldn’t hold their family together.

As she left the room, quieter than it had been when Caster first walked in, he couldn’t help the familiar conflict that had started to build the moment he knew he couldn’t live without Mark. Would his soulmate understand his need to protect Bastian after everything his young cousin had done? Or would this be a new point of tension, tearing at the fragility of their relationship?

CHAPTER 23

Perhaps it was the overpriced whisky the King kept refilling his glass with, but by the time vampire business interrupted them, Mark was certain he’d made a new friend. His status was not lost on Mark, but it was the person behind the title Mark had met. He still couldn’t get over how much he looked like Caster, and although his vampire protected his physical form from the effects of aging, there was no mistaking the wisdom behind the familiar gray eyes. He reminded Mark of his grandfather, and Mark and his grandfather, Dean’s predecessor as Prime Alpha, had been close.

It was his grandfather who’d protected him, soothed him whenever he and his mother failed to bridge their considerable gap. His father had loved him, but he was torn between them. His grandfather, his mother’s father, had been his protector.

Now, as the King smiled at his description of how Dean had promised to reignite the war if anything happened to him, Mark reexperienced the same protection he’d felt from his grandfather. And it was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

The King glanced at his watch. “I expect nothing less from your brother.” He nodded, his smile fading. “I had a lot of respect for your grandfather, and your brother reminds me of him in so many ways.”

For a second, Mark thought he’d forgotten to fortify his mind again, but that barrier was still up.

The King stood as a young vampire walked in. “I’ll see you later at dinner?”

Mark nodded.

“Good.” He reached for the papers the young vampire handed him and moved to his desk. “I am sure you know by now that my wife’s will is law.”

They both laughed, startling the young vampire, who looked at Mark with a slight frown. Feeling more at home than he ever thought he would be in a vampire’s household, Mark followed the young vampire out of the King’s study. He allowed his wolf to locate Caster's scent, and he followed it to another section of the house that seemed even emptier.

The sound of metal clashing against metal reached his ears first, and a memory of a similar sound invaded his calm mind. Kyle was at the door, and he tilted his head in question, but all he got was an unhelpful shrug before Kyle stepped away from the door and unlocked it.

He couldn’t contain his gasp at what he saw. Caster was again shirtless, his torso gleaming with the exertion of the activity. But it was the swinging, gleaming sword barely missing his throat that had Mark’s heart pounding. He ducked, but Mark’s presence distracted him again, and the second blow landed just above his rib, tearing a large gash. The scent of his blood filled the room, and Mark couldn’t help his reaction. He glared at the culprit, half expecting to see Damien, surprised at the unfamiliar face.

This person smiled at him and swung his sword again. Mark was between that blow and Caster in a split second, his gasp echoing in the spacious room.

The stranger’s smile grew wider as he stopped the sword’s momentum scant inches in front of Mark’s face. “He protects you? That’s interesting…”

His words penetrated Mark’s mind and even made sense, but Mark was lost in his wolf’s desire to tear him apart. He lunged at the new threat, only for Caster’s arms around him to halt his movement, his body thrashing in that tight hold with the energy he’d gathered for the assault.

No, baby. Stop. This asshole is my brother.

The hint of command in Caster’s words soothed his need for blood, and he turned in his arms, Caster loosening his hold long enough to let him. “What?” He glanced at Caster’s torso, the ghastly wound that had been there only a few seconds earlier non-existent. Still, he couldn’t help his need to trace its ghost, just to make sure.

The vampire behind him, Caster’s brother, chuckled. “You reek of my brother.” There was a bit of teasing in his tone, disguised by a hardness he seemed unable to control.

“Cyrus…” The warning in Caster’s tone was enough to shake anyone to the core. But his brother just laughed. Caster sighed and urged Mark to turn. “Mark, this is my brother. Cyrus.”

There was a glint of mischief in Cyrus’s eye as he held out his hand, the sword still stained with Caster’s blood in his other hand. “You can call me Cy.”

Mark accepted the handshake. Something about him was reminiscent of Dean. Perhaps it was the way he was too aware of his charm. “Nice to meet you.”