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“Exactly. All the pieces within his grasp.”
“But what are the chances of two elder witches teaming up with Egan? They despise the fucker.”
“True, but as much as werewolves hate the unity bonds, Moon Witches hate them more. It’s common ground.”
“So, you think Egan wants the witchstones for the power and he’s convinced Lilian to give them to him in a last-ditch hope that the ritual can be reversed.”
“I do.”
“But things have changed in the past twenty-five years. If a war started now, it wouldn’t be vampires versus werewolves. It would be district against district, horde against horde, and pack against pack. Everyone would be vying for a spot at the top of the food chain.”
“And the one with the strongest arsenal would win, wouldn’t they?”
“In the end. But until then, it would be fucking chaos. The supernatural world would be exposed to the humans in less than forty-eight hours.”
“I’m done caring. The witches didn’t stop a war, they only prolonged it. I assure you, brother, that when the last thread finally snaps, we will be propelled into a bloodbath so thick the clouds will rain scarlet onto the city.”
I stare at Sebastian in stunned silence. “But we’re not going to let that happen, right? We’re going to figure out a way to keep the peace.”
“No. Not this time. I’m done accepting their bullshit. If Egan wants a war, we’ll give him one. I’ve got the sunstone dagger and a Dumont witch. We’ll mount our attack and watch the fur fly.”
He can’t seriously mean that.
But he does. I see the suicidal glint in his eye. Sometimes a vampire gets so old and jaded they want to meet their end—and to die in battle is the way any warrior wants to go.
“You want to die.”
“Don’t you?”
Fuck. I wanted him to deny it. If he’s already given up on living, there will be no saving him.
I can’t—I won’t—lose Sebastian.
I’m on my feet and gripping his shoulders in a blur of movement. “No, brother. I don’t. I love my fucking life. This city. Our horde. You and Fintan. And now with Josie, there are endless possibilities just waiting for us to discover.”
“When did you become so foolish?” Sebastian breaks eye contact, lifting his pant leg to shove the dagger back into place.
“It’s not foolish, Bas. It’s happening. Don’t give up on us. Give me six months to prove it to you. Six months…and I promise you we’ll look back at this and you’ll be glad you stuck it out.”
“I’m sorry we disagree on this one, brother.” Sebastian moves faster than I can track. He pulls my face to his until the only thing I can see is the red overtaking his icy blue gaze as his pupils dilate. “Rune Leifson, submit to me…”
I slam my eyes shut as the warbled effect of Sebastian’s thrall reaches my ears. “Bas. Don’t.”
“I’ll only take what’s necessary,” he promises, his voice heavenly soft.
“You promised you would never do this?—”
The grip on my jaw tightens to the point of pain, cutting off my words. I reach out blindly, trying to push him away, but his command of submission has already taken hold. With my eyes closed, the world sways suddenly, and then my ass sinks into his desk chair.
“Open your eyes, Rune.” Sebastian’s weight settles on top of me, holding me in place.
I fight against the urge to obey him. But I want so badly to obey—to make Sebastian happy.
“Please, don’t, Bas…” I hate the whine in my voice, struggling against the hold my sire has on both my body and my mind. I won’t be able to resist his thrall for much longer.
His breath is so close I feel it in the hairs of my beard. “Be a good child and open your eyes for your sire. Show me that beautiful blend of greens and browns.”
I can’t deny him. Blinking my eyes open, I stop breathing when Sebastian’s gaze takes me prisoner. There’s a flash of the old Sebastian before the mirage shatters when he speaks.
