While I refused to voice it, the concern for what could have happened lingered in the back of my mind. Pulled in two different directions, I'd still yet to get my mind around the reality that we could have lost Darius. I'd spent so much time worrying about Verando that it was common practice to pass my children off to a trusted family member. 

In reality, it was a normal and safe practice; I still felt the heavy cloud of guilt in the back of my mind. We were magic users, a special case at that, and had opted to treat him at him instead of taking him to a hospital. 

Was that because it was a minor case, or was it out of fear of what might happen if too many eyes peered in on our situation?

Shouldn't that mean we should be more careful? Where would we have gone? 

Adriam had rights at multiple hospitals in the area, he was a renowned surgeon, but it still didn't save us from questions. 

Darius didn't have much as far as paperwork, he was described as an Elf but anyone with true training would be able to see that that was false, and his ears were doctored to look the part. 

I filed it away, refusing to allow it to surface when we were still so raw. My child's gentle nature warmed my heart, he could surely sense the inner turmoil smoldering under his father's loosely concocted facade, adding my fear would darken an already stressful situation.

Wise beyond his young years, I was beginning to worry that Verando was right about keeping things from the boy. I just wanted to keep him safe, to allow him to live a normal life as I had before I'd been sent away. 

As Verando liked to remind me, Darius wouldn't belong to us forever. 

Chewing on the knuckle of my thumb, I can't help the feeling of anxiety creeping into my chest. I needed to be more honest, I needed to be more clear and work with him more on his magic.

A six-year-old wielding Solomonari magic was unheard of.

Mine hadn't presented with such force until much later in my life, around puberty, and that was considered early for my kind.

Verando glances at me, the corner of his mouth pulling down as I search his face with a heavy cloud of worry. We'd have to talk about it, but not now. 

It had begun to dawn on me what he had been getting at when we'd spoken earlier. The lives we lead would never be fit for public display, and our families were beginning to become burdened by our strange set of circumstances, there were too many lines and variations to keep everyone in the safety net. 

In public, I needed to be his supporter, even if I was going to question him on it later. In war times, we were united until we were behind closed doors. We'd have to find that balance once more, to put ourselves back in a position of two outsiders who could be consulted. A court, of sorts, but for our family and friends. 

 With Darius safe, it'd lessened the blow, yet I could sense the tremble that he refused to allow to the surface. I could feel his tension, his discomfort, we were both too war-torn for such mistakes. 

 Judging by his expression, I knew there had been too many witnesses for what had occurred. Our family had seen the massive chink in our armor, Verando had essentially fallen from grace. 

Adriam warns the taller man with his eyes, standing while cradling Darius in his arms. "Do.. you want to hold him?" His voice is light, and kind, as if worried about my husband's response.

Verando hesitated, the boy was practically asleep once more, and he closed his hands into fists. "Take him to bed, Adam. I'm not myself right now, I don't want to risk anything... plus I've had... you know." He mutters through the half-hearted explanation, his trust in himself was minimal at best, and with the alcohol he'd partaken in, I knew he'd be cautious about his ability. 

"Are you mad at me?" Darius asks, his voice small. "I didn't mean to go onto the lake."

My heart threatens to fracture, I quickly cross the space to stand beside Verando. "Honey, no one is mad at you. We just think you need some rest." I explain away quickly, stroking the boy's cheek. "I'll come get you when I go upstairs and we can sleep in the big bed, how about that?"

Reluctantly, glancing between the pair of us, Darius nods once and leans back into Adam with another yawn.

Verando rolls his shoulders, hoping to ease the tension. "Good night, Dare." he exhales, pressing his lips into a thin line as he grabs his glass off the end table.

"You're going to get the hang of this," Adriam tells him, earning little more than an awkward nod as Verando retreats to refill his glass. "I'm going to stay with Darius until you come upstairs, Nic. Stef.. go home, and get some rest. Stop blaming yourself, children wake up suicidal or homicidal, it's our job to stop them."

The strigoi needed very little convincing, coming to me to hug me so tightly, if I wasn't a lycan I might have been crushed. I hold him just as hard, I would be wounded from the near loss, myself, for as long as I lived. A horrible reminder of what a lackluster parent I'd been.

It was not lost on me that Stefan angled us so that I was between him and Verando. Truthfully, we all seemed to be waiting for him to snap, to break out of this haze of regret and blame Stefan for losing the child.

With little acknowledgment, Stefan seems to take his cue to leave. Avoiding Verando, he slips out the front door and disappears without another word.

The patrons of our home shuffle about, Legardo and Victor talk to either quietly while Adriam disappears up the stairs. Tomas seemed to be finishing up a conversation on his phone, he filled Rowan in on what had occurred, and he tapped his watch, flicking his eyes at Verando to remind him that Tiberius would be arriving soon.

I grimace, they still had practice tonight, in only a few short days he'd be leaving for two months to go on tour. 

"Stefan going to be ok?" Verando asks, his voice low, practicing the calm tones of a man who had it together as he scans over me, tracing his fingers over the smooth material of the hem of my shirt. "Are you?"

I was exhausted from how little sleep I'd had. With the adrenaline wearing off, my body felt heavy, my neck and shoulders were still sore, and my hips ached.

The wolf had begun to stir, pawing at me, wanting to be closer to the object that drew me like a moth to the flame. Stretching, I rub my neck with the heel of my palm in an attempt to soothe the throbbing, only I realize he's talking to me.

My expression must amuse him, the tiniest hint of my favorite look crosses his face, making the smallest indention of a dimple in his stubbled jaw. "Regretting your night of debauchery?"

I gather the glass out of his hand, taking a small sip of some liquid painkiller. To my disappointment, he knew I'd be put off brandy but considering the circumstances, I'd drink it anyway.

"I think he's freaked out like the rest of us, we've got a lot of parameters we need to go over, medical plans and what to do... it's not like Darius is a normal child. Frankly, I'm waiting to see how you're going to react when the shock wears off. He looked like he was waiting to be burned at the stake."

With a scoff, the gray-haired man mutters under his breath in disbelief. "It wouldn't make much sense to be upset with Stefan and nobody can punish him more harshly than he's already doing to himself. He won't make the mistake again, that's all we can ask going forward. I was a horrid child at times, there'd been no one left to watch me if Marcus had blamed those around for my misdeeds."

I could personally remember my mother threatening to have a servant banished or jailed when I dropped a vase and cut my hand. But, I suppose they had no other options then, and we didn't either.

"You alright?" I pressed, covering the top of the glass casually, hoping to slow him down before we had a chance to discuss. I couldn't handle him drunk, not right now, not with my wolf lurking under the surface. His scent, freshly showered to scrub away his time in the lake, was so potent to my nose. I could almost taste the blood he'd drank before he'd gone to smoke.

My wolf was on a hair trigger, pacing, gnawing at its cage to chase off every bystander who threatened to get too close to what belonged to me. Verando's light gaze meets my own, before trailing down toward my lips. His hand lifts, almost capturing my cheek before he exhales, closing his fingers to brush the back of them gently over my cheekbone.

"I'm... managing. It's quiet for once; Alpha is ashamed of himself, I suppose." His thumb brushes my lower lip, I attempt to lean into his hand and he releases me as if I'd shocked him, "I'm not in any sort of state to be touching you; I'm being rather selfish... but I'm hanging by a thread and this is quite grounding."

"Then be selfish," I growl before stiffening as the foreign scent mingles with the delicious aroma of my warlord.

When I allow my eyes to drift upward, I see that Legardo is standing before us, arms crossed over his chest. Yet another reminder that our lives were no longer our own, nobody hesitated to come in between us.

Legardo's expression was hard, but kinder than before. "Where's the chain?" He keeps his voice low and even. 

My husband doesn't answer, unimpressed with this method of interrogation. My posturing doesn't go unnoticed, Verando's hand caresses my hip, carefully moving me to stand beside him rather than in front of him. The alpha in me threatens to push back. 

I shoot Legardo a warning if he dared overstep the boundary. Some clarity must have dawned on the man, for he takes a step back to give us room.

"Mum was convinced you'd gone off the rocker... but I won the bet that you'd get it together." The prodigal son attempts; a light air of humor in his tone. 

Narrowing my eyes at the Alpha look-alike, I growl, pulling back the wolf from attempting murder. "Does she need a reminder?" I scowl.

These terms were unacceptable to me, to my hormones, and to the beast that lurked under the surface. Rhea would burn for that if I had a say in it.

I must amuse our leader, for Verando almost chuckles, bumping me lightly with his elbow to unseat me from my glowering. "Down boy," he murmurs, making me flush and yet I jut my chin out at him in defiance as I exhale to calm my nerves.

Considering his son's attempt at peacemaking, Verando tongues his cheek, a small smirk curling onto the corner of his lips. "You bet in my favor?" Verando allows, "Your mum's never been in my corner for these sorts of things. I bet she was rather excited to hear I'd gone crazy."

"She was. She was hoping you'd need a place to crash, she sounded like she was preparing a guest room. Not sure why she gets her hopes up, it would seem you're rather committed to pitching for the other team." Legardo exhales, shaking his head in disbelief. "Where's the chain, Randy?"

"Not a chance in hell I'd return to her bed, not even bewitched." Verando scoffs, taking a swallow from his glass. "Your mother was the worst of them, truly."

I gather the drink back out of his hand, slowing him down by finishing it off. Brandy was not my preferred method of intoxication. My nerves were shot, the idea of him going back to Rhea was enough to get my hackles up, even if I knew it was just a lonely woman's pipe dream.

Legardo refuses to look away, insisting on his question being answered.

"Bottom of the lake, I'd say. I dropped it." Verando recalls, stiffening as I adjust his shirt, smoothing out the occasional ruffle as an excuse to touch him.

"You dropped it?" I sputter, nearly choking on the shock. "In the lake?"

He shrugs one shoulder, treading lightly. "I was in a hurry. Alpha was carrying it in his mouth, it might be on the shore or the sand bar, we'll have to go back and look for it."

"So Fenrir will go unchecked tonight?" Legardo hesitates. "Is that safe?"

Tomas interjects before I can speak, putting his arm around my warlord, hugging him to his side impossibly tight with a grin. "Give the poor man a break. He done saved his own, let 'em rest." Tomas grabs the bottle of brandy and takes a swallow straight from the source, wrinkling his nose. "Randal, this is terrible."

Uncomfortable, Verando blocks the attempt to hold onto him, irritated by the vampire's insistence but not motivated enough to push him off. "It slows me down. You aren't meant to drink it like a bloody fish, Tomas. Must you clutch me like a bar wench?"

Tossing the bottle into the fireplace, it bursts into flames on the embers as Tomas sorts through the liquor cabinet for Scotch. "If ya are gon' to drink, do it right." Popping the top, he pours some of the contents into the tumbler and takes a drink with an appreciative nod. "Ya always had good taste for a Brit. When ya aren't drinking practical piss water, that is. Also, if I wanted to hold ya like a wench, I'd grab ya by ta arse."

Taking a glance at the ass in question, Tomas shrugs, not entirely unimpressed. I resist the urge to retaliate, taking the opportunity to press my body against the side of the taller man in an attempt to ground myself.

"For the love, this shit again... bloody Brit..." Verando grimaces, rejecting the offering of a drink. "You're absolutely useless, you know."

Legardo rolls his eyes at the pair, taking a moment to check his phone for the time. "It's coming on 9:30, Pascal has been worried all day. Might as well go relieve her.. seems as though all that can be done here has been done. Are you good to manage him tonight? Do you need me to stay?"

As if Legardo could do more for him than I could.

"I'll be fine, Gardo. I'm just going to-" To what? Put him to bed? He no longer slept. "We'll manage," I conclude, taking a page from my lesson for the evening. Beginning the process of fading them out, becoming more self-reliant, and not allowing them to see behind the curtain. 

Taking the hint better than I imagined, the oldest of Verando's children departs, I watch Victor's large back disappear as he moves up the stairs. The side glance left little to the imagination, he was unimpressed with the entirety of how the evening had played out.

Tomas sets his jaw, shrugging one shoulder, "Ol' Vic is pissed at ya."

"Vic?" Verando questions, leaving us to move into the kitchen. 

Dutifully, we follow behind him, I lean against the kitchen table as I sort through the wreckage of the day. Tomas cuddles with his commandeered bottle of scotch, while Verando grabs a tub of ice cream out of the freezer and tosses it onto the counter. Grabbing a spoon, he takes a scoop and pops it into his mouth, sucking on the metal utensil while we stare at him, considering if he'd lost his mind or if Fenrir truly had taken him over.

The man was quite adamant that processed foods were a waste of time, money, energy, and calories, and yet the banned substance was the first thing he'd reached for.

"Ice cream?" Tomas snorts. 

My size-conscious warlord didn't appreciate the reminder. I drag my eyes over him anyway, unable to prevent myself from admiring the lines of him in his civilian clothes, the way the soft t-shirt clung to his chest and the loose jeans barely clung to his hips. The bruising on his neck was all but gone, I could see the hint of one of his nipple studs outlined in the thin shirt material. 

"Been a long day, it's sweet, and I've smoked an entire pack today. I taste like an ashtray, it's offensive even to me." Verando allows, taking another scoop and sighing appreciatively at the taste.

 I resist the urge to snap at him about the smoking, taking the spoon from him to take my own scoop. "It's a worthy excuse for ice cream. I'm just glad Darius is alright, that you're alright."

He was already dead, what was a vice or two? 

Passing his tongue over a drip on his palm, Verando holds out his hand for my stolen utensil and I reluctantly hand it over as he takes another bite. "Tiberius will be here any minute, you should both get some sleep." 

Much as the idea appeals to me, I turn my head to look at Tomas, gesturing with a nod for him to leave. 

Right. I can take a hint... I'll go out front and wait for Tiberius." He grumbles, giving Verando a firm pat on the back as he takes the spoon and pops some ice cream in his mouth. "Make time for me in your schedule, asshole. I'm startin' to miss ya."

Watching him leave, I sigh as I toss the spoon in the sink and grab another one, the idea of eating after Tomas did not appeal to me in the least. I turn, only to hesitate as his hands cup my face, pulling me up onto my toes as he bends to press his lips against mine. My mouth yields to his, I inhale sharply as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, resting my hands carefully against his wrists as he kisses me until we're both breathless. 

In one quick move, he lifts me and my legs instinctively wrap around his hips, I balance with my hand against the counter as he pins me against the set of cabinets, removing his hand from my face to capture my palm, placing it over my head to pin me at his mercy while moving to kiss my neck. 

My teeth graze over his lower lip, enticing him to keep kissing me, wanting to protect my neck from his aggression. "Didn't you request dinner first?" I manage, panting as I break the kiss in an attempt to clear my head. 

"Skipping straight to dessert, darling. I don't want to think, I don't want to feel any of this-" Exhaling, he kisses me again and I release the counter to grip his shirt, pulling him to me. "I need you."