Page 17 of Dermot

It was the first time Dermot had heard about this Emory. “He’s not part of our clan,” he said.

“No, he’s not. He lives with the Whitedell pride, and I want things to continue that way. He has a mate and children. I won’t involve him in this.”

“He’s already involved,” Clay said. “And through him, the pride is, too. The pride is our best opportunity to win this fight, Rowan. They know that once Parrish is done with you, he’ll turn his attention to Emory, and they don’t want that to happen. Bastien isn’t wrong when he says that if we involve the council, it’s going to take too long, but what about involving the pride? They sent us people last time, and it was fast. Some of the pride members are council members, right?”

“I can’t ask them to do us a personal favor,” Rowan said.

“Why not? It is personal.”

Dermot wasn’t involved in this conversation, and he was glad he wasn’t. He understood Rowan’s point of view, but also Clay’s. The two of them could bicker for a few minutes. Dermot was sure they’d figure things out in the end because they always did. In the meantime, maybe he could try figuring things out with his own mate.

He moved closer to Bastien. His mate wasn’t paying attention. He was staring down at his cup of coffee, a frown on his face, clearly thinking about his sister. Dermot needed to apologize.

He just wasn’t sure that Bastien would accept that apology.

Maybe not, but Dermot had to try. He had to show Bastien that he wasn’t as much of an idiot as he’d led him to believe.

“The council just wants to know what we’re dealing with before doing anything,” Rowan was saying. “And I agree. We need to know what we’re walking into, and since I want Parrish to die, spying on him and his people will be the easiest way to get rid of him. The council wants to get rid of Parrish as much as I do. They know he’s a danger to everyone he comes in contact with.”

“Are you saying they’re going to send someone to kill him?” Dermot asked, temporarily distracted. He wanted that. Some people would think him callous, but he’d seen too much death and lost too many people. Most of them hadn’t been killed by Parrish, but Parrish had terrorized Dermot and the rest of the Vila for decades. His name was whispered in the darkness, as if there was a chance he might hear. He was the bogeyman, except that he was very real.

Rowan nodded curtly. “They do want to send someone to kill him. Him having Celeste is making things a little more complicated, though.”

“Because he can use her magic to defend himself.”

“And he might kill her if we get too close,” Bastien snapped. “But it’s not like you care about that, do you? You believe that she joined him because she wanted to.”

Dermot swallowed. Now definitely wasn’t the time to try to talk to Bastien, but when else was Dermot supposed to do it? As soon as the council got involved, everyone would be too distracted and focused on getting Celeste back, especially Bastien. No, if Dermot wanted a chance to explain himself, he needed to take it now.

* * * *

BASTIEN DIDN’T KNOW what was going on in Dermot’s mind. Just an hour ago, he’d told Bastien that he believed Celeste had left because she wanted to be with Parrish and that she’d dragged Rose along with her. Now, he sounded like he wanted to get Celeste back. Why did he care? Was it only because of the bond he shared with Bastien? Or maybe he just wanted Celeste away from Parrish so Parrish couldn’t use her. If Bastien had to guess, Dermot didn’t care about helping Celeste. He just cared about helping his clan, and it would be easier to do that if Celeste wasn’t with Parrish.

Bastien couldn’t even blame him for that. Of course Dermot cared more about his clan and the people he considered family than he did about Bastien’s sister. Even though he and Bastien were mates, they didn’t know each other. From the way things were going, they might never get to know each other. Bastien wasn’t sure he could forgive Dermot for what he thought of Celeste, at least not right now. He didn’t even want to talk to his mate.

It looked like he wouldn’t have a choice. Clay and Rowan were still discussing the council and the Whitedell pride. Bastien wanted to yell at them to make a decision and hurry up, because every second Celeste spent with Parrish was one more second in which Parrish could hurt her. It wouldn’t be productive, though. He was a guest here, and if he wanted help to get Celeste back, he was going to have to work with the clan. Going out there on his own would be suicide, and if he died, there would be no one left to help Celeste. By the time their family got here, Parrish would’ve probably made sure that no one could get to Celeste, and even if he hadn’t, Bastien was the best trained in his family. If he couldn’t help Celeste, he doubted his parents would be able to. They’d try, but they might lose their lives, too, and where would that leave Celeste and the rest of their family?

No, the best way to do this was for Bastien to take on Parrish, and to do that, he’d need help. It was why he was in Rowan and Clay’s kitchen right now. They were the clan leaders, and Bastien was going to have to follow their lead. Besides, it was clear that Rowan knew Parrish much better than Bastien did, and in more ways than Bastien would want to. It seemed like things were personal between them, which couldn’t be an easy thing to deal with for Rowan. He was probably the person who wanted Parrish dead the most, after Bastien and Celeste. Hell, since Parrish had killed his entire clan, he probably wanted it even more than they did.

“Bastien?” Dermot asked as he stepped closer.

Bastien hated that he wanted to talk to Dermot as much as he wanted to tell him to fuck off. Part of him hated Dermot for what he thought of Celeste, but another part understood. This was Dermot’s home. These were his people. They came first, even before Celeste. Besides, Dermot wasn’t entirely wrong. Rose might not have anything to do with this. She might be innocent of what Bastien had accused her of, just like Bastien was sure that Celeste was. Parrish was smart. If he wanted to get Celeste back — and he definitely did—he’d find a way to make it happen. It seemed that he had.

“What do you want?” Bastien asked gruffly.

“To apologize.”

Bastien was surprised. He was also curious, and he wanted a distraction. He didn’t have a place in the conversation happening between Rowan and Clay, and he wouldn’t have a place in the conversation they would have with the council or the Whitedell pride. The only thing he could do was wait, and it was driving him nuts. His entire being was itching to go out there and get Celeste back, but he couldn’t move.

He leaned his hip against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m listening.”

Dermot blinked as if he hadn’t expected that. He probably hadn’t. It was clear he thought that Bastien was still furious, and Bastien was. He was still thinking about possibly strangling Dermot a little, and not in a sexual way. No, if he did that now, it wouldn’t be pleasurable for anyone.

Dermot cleared his throat. “All right, then. I’m really sorry about what’s happening to your sister and for assuming that she left willingly. I’m also sorry for not trusting you.”

“You know, that’s something I don’t fully understand. Vila and Krsnik have always lived together. We’re family.” And more often than not, they also found their mates in each other’s species. Bastien’s mother was a Krsnik, and his father was a Vila. His sister was a Vila, just like their other brother, but Bastien was a Krsnik. It was how their clans and families had always worked.

Dermot looked away. “They have,” he murmured. “That was how things went in my old clan, too. Vila used their magic to protect the village and make everyone’s life easier, and in exchange, Krsnik hunted Kudlak and protected us physically.”