Page 45 of Evil Overlord Omega

Evidently satisfied that he wasn’t mortally wounded, Dean lifted his head and licked the cut on Silas’s forehead.

“You’re gonna think that’s gross when you are in your human form,” said Silas affectionately. “And you are so going to brush your teeth before kissing me.”

Silas watched as Dean stepped back a little and shifted to his human form. His gorgeous green-gold eyes stared at Silas intently, but there wasn’t much human in them at all.

Just at that moment, a whole crowd of people burst through the door.Better late than never,thought Silas drolly. Still, it was nice to have even more rescuers. It made him feel appreciated.

Dean turned to face the crowd, a deep ominous growl rolling through the hall. Echoing off of the walls. Feral, deep and full of the promise of violence.

“Stay back!” called Silas, satisfied when the crowd stopped in their tracks. Though it was probably the effect of Dean’s growl rather than his words.

“Dean’s a bit wolfed out right now. Don’t come any closer,” he added in explanation.

Dean was an alpha whose mate had just nearly been killed. His wolf likely wasn’t able to tell friend from foe at the moment and wouldn’t be able to tolerate anyone coming anywhere near his mate.

Silas thought about all the times Dean had been his rock and his anchor when he was losing his shit either from a panic attack or heat or magic or some combination thereof. It was nice to be able to return the favor and be the calm, reasonable one for a change.

Though, in this situation, Silas was loving the alpha possessiveness. It was wonderful. It was making him feel safe, protected, and loved. His wolf was lapping it up.

Sudden movement made him yelp in surprise and he found himself being scooped up into Dean’s arms to be carried like a bride. The alpha turned and headed for a door at the back of the hall that was empty of people.

“Where are we going, big guy?” asked Silas.

Dean didn’t answer. Silas didn’t mind. Dean probably couldn’t talk right now, his wolf in full control. Silas suspected they were going somewhere far away from all people and potential threats. It sounded wonderful. He lay his head against his mate’s shoulder and sighed contently.

Chapter twenty-six

Deanfoundhimselfsittingby a lake in the middle of some woods. He was leaning back against a sandy embankment and Silas was asleep in his arms. The mid-afternoon sun was peeking through the clouds, casting sparkles on the water. Gentle waves swished against the lakeshore a few feet from his toes.

Silas’s breathing was steady. Dean checked his mate’s pulse. That was good too. Then Dean twisted his head to look at the cut on Silas’s forehead. It was already healing nicely. Dean didn’t think he could have coped with being mated to a human. Their incredibly slow healing time and general fragility would have been far too stressful. Luckily, his love was a shifter and looked like he was going to be absolutely fine in a couple of hours.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He had vague memories of fighting the troll. Even vaguer ones of carrying Silas out of the Council Chamber and walking for miles and miles.

The spot his wolf had finally been content with as safe enough, was lovely. Dean couldn’t fault his wolf’s taste. Dean could quite happily stay here forever. As pleasant as that thought was, darker ones crowded his mind and kept returning to one thing. His mate’s last words to him had been ‘Sorry.’

He knew Silas would say that he meant ‘Sorry I’m dying and leaving you,’ and on the surface of it, that was true, that was mostly what Dean had felt through the bond. But it wasn’t all of it. Sorry. Silas was sorry. For so many things. For everything. Silas was sorry for being Silas and Dean couldn’t bear it. He needed to love Silas harder and push all his self-doubts away.

His mate stirred and yawned, his dark eyes going straight to Dean’s.

“Are you feeling better now?” asked Silas.

Dean nodded and clutched his mate tighter. He was feeling fully human, but he still wasn’t about to let Silas go.

The necromancer wriggled a bit, finding a new position in Dean’s lap, seemingly content to stay there.

“This is a lovely spot,” commented Silas, echoing Dean’s earlier thoughts. “When we are old and gray, we should run off into the wild together and turn feral and live somewhere like this.”

“How about now?” suggested Dean keenly.

Silas grinned up at him. “Sadly, people need us. And we need to find Ash.”

Dean sighed wistfully. Silas was right, of course. They couldn’t run away from their responsibilities. Many people were relying on them. He was an Alpha of a large pack. Silas was Grand Master of the Council. It was such a shame. And most importantly of all, they needed to find their son. Going feral together would have to wait.

The alpha lowered his head to snuffle in his mate’s hair, filling his lungs with his scent. Silas was alive. Dean had got there in time. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else would ever matter, ever again. As long as Silas was alive, Dean would be happy, grateful, and able to cope with whatever was thrown their way.

“Softy,” whispered Silas.

Dean realized his mate had picked up on the tone of his thoughts through their bond. Again. Dean reckoned his mind must be like a leaky sieve, but he didn’t mind at all. He was happy to share everything with his mate. He gave Silas a little squeeze.