Page 36 of Only You, No One Else

Cy released his hand and stepped closer, handing him the sword. “You have my gratitude for saving my brother’s life. It is a debt I will repay at the earliest opportunity.” And then he was striding towards the door.

The weapon was heavy in Mark’s grip, but he was more struck by Cyrus. He was like the Queen in the same way Caster was like his father. Even the sudden shift of energy he’d come to associate with the Queen was present in her younger son in the way he went from teasing joy to hardened vows in the space of a breath.

“Yes. That’s my brother. You’ll get used to it.” Caster sighed. “If he stays.”

Mark had once again forgotten to fortify his mind, but in his defense, the sight of someone unfamiliar attacking Caster had caused him to lose control of more than that barrier.

Caster chuckled, and he turned to him. “You imagine that anyone could hurt me?”

Mark frowned. None of this was funny. “The witch did.”

Caster sobered, his smile fading, and reached for Mark’s hand, pulling him closer. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Mark wanted to be free of this fear that he would lose the person who made him feel whole, but there was a lot of work to be done there. He felt safe in this house, but the threat to both of them from the witch and Zeke could not be ignored. He’d barely survived her attack ten years ago; he doubted he would survive losing Caster.

Caster’s gasp crawled over his skin as he pulled him into an embrace. The sword dropped from his hand as he drowned in Caster’s protection. Their forever was threatened, but they would do everything in their power to keep it. He would dig deep to find the strength he needed to ensure its security, even if the very thought of Zeke shook him to the core.

He had only just settled into the warmth of Caster’s protection when his contented breath was interrupted by the whisper of Caster’s breath over his ear. “Let’s get stronger together.”

It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he drew away from Caster’s hold to look him in the eye.

But he didn’t need to explain his confusion, not to the only person who had access to more than his mind. “Yes, that. Let’s strengthen that barrier together, yes?”

He frowned.

Caster stepped back, creating a bit of space between them, and nodded at the sword he’d discarded a minute earlier. “Pick it up.”

The command startled him, and his body scrambled to obey even as his mind hesitated. He had the heavy, heavier than he’d imagined weapon in his grasp in the second it took for Caster’s raised eyebrow to point out his hesitation.

“Today, you will learn to hold that mental barrier in place even when in danger.” The command remained even as his tone softened.

Mark didn’t know how a sword would help with that, but he doubted he could overcome Caster’s will, and he did want to learn. Unlike his brothers, who had spent a lot of time around vampires and had needed to strengthen that mental block, Mark had little use for it until he met Caster. Now, he was torn between wanting to keep the intimacy his open mind granted them in private moments, and the need to control it when in the vicinity of other vampires.

“That’s the goal.” Caster’s expert hand swung the sword in his grip, slicing through the air between them with an unsettling whisper. “Now, reach for that barrier.”

Mark closed his eyes and found that psychic wall, building it up brick by brick.

“Good.”

He opened his eyes only to be distracted by the warrior demeanor Caster presented.

“Now…” Caster stepped back, his hands at his sides, making himself a large target, the weapon in his hand limp, pointing at the ground. “Come at me.”

Mark tested the weight of the sword he held. Wolves were unfamiliar with such weapons; the animal inside each werewolf was the only formidable solution each wolf needed when threatened. But how hard could it be?

Its unexpected weight tore at his biceps and triceps as he swung at Caster, only to grunt in frustration when the sword missed its mark. Caster hadn’t even moved.

“You’re broadcasting your intent.” Caster’s casual demeanor, the way his muscles remained still as if Mark was an insignificant threat, increased his frustration. He swung again, and this time the same unsettling whisper as the sword sliced through the air reached his ear before he caught Caster’s slight movement.

Satisfaction coursed through his body, invigorating him, and he stepped forward, the grooves of the weapon’s hilt growing more familiar by the second. Confident that he would hit his mark this time, he struck again, but Caster’s hand came up too fast for his mind to process. The clash of the swords in the space between them sent a ripple of energy through his arm to his shoulder, a dull ache following in its wake.

He winced, his other hand reaching for the hilt to offer much-needed support, but Caster was faster. In a sweeping motion too fast for his mind to process, he lost his balance, and he was on his back, the tip of Caster's sword against his neck, his foot pressing down on Mark’s wrist with enough force that he released his hold on the sword.

Caster pressed his foot further against his wrist, the crack of the delicate bones there filling the space in his mind to awaken his wolf. “I will hurt you every time you forget to keep that barrier up.”

The pressure relented; pain tore through his arm, but he reached for that barrier, rebuilding the fortifications of its crumbling walls.

Caster drew the threat of the sword away from his throat, and Mark took a breath. He offered a helping hand, his considerable strength pulling Mark to his feet with minimal effort. “Let’s try that again, shall we?”