Sylvester 'Sylver' Stanton vs. Enzo Jilani

Pix: The sexi chef

Video: A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton

Dedicated to: SilverAngel007

Cheers!

***

Under the first whispers of dawn, Enzo stood, his posture radiating lethal calm as the air crackled with the anticipation of bloodshed. The abandoned warehouse district echoed with the distant clatter of the city, but here, it was the stage for a deadly dance. He had been called upon to protect Fidel, the sole witness to a brutal murder orchestrated by the notorious Bianchi clan.

The air shifted, charged with the scent of ozone and malice. Shadows morphed into forms—killers and mercenaries, their eyes glowing with bloodlust. Enzo's blade, an extension of his unyielding resolve, gleamed silver under the dim streetlights. As the Bianchi assassins advanced, a dark incantation twisted in the air, summoning shadowy tendrils that slithered across the ground.

"Shield your feet! Do not let the darkness grasp you!" Enzo bellowed to his men, his voice a commanding force amidst the chaos.

His team, a small but formidable group of vampire warriors, maneuvered with practiced precision, their movements a blend of grace and brutality. Enzo moved among them, a spectral figure of death, his sword slicing through the night and its assailants with equal ease. Every strike was a death sentence, his blade severing limbs and cleaving vampire bodies, their ancient blood soaking into the thirsty earth. Those who suffered direct, deadly piercing to the heart turned to dust instantly. Enzo was in his element, doing what he did best—fighting with unmatched ferocity and skill.

"Pablo, take Fidel behind that wall to the far left," Enzo commanded his deputy, his voice carrying over the clash of swords. "And shield yourselves from the tentacles while you're at it."

"Roger that, boss," Pablo responded, his tone firm. In a blur of motion, he was gone.

The Bianchi clan, with the help of dark magic, intensified their assault, casting spells that thickened the air with a palpable dread. But Enzo was relentless, his eyes scanning the battleground for any sign of the dark tendrils reaching for his men.

"Formation Delta! Push them back!" His commands cut through the din of battle, a lifeline thrown to his warriors who moved to obey with lethal intent.

The clash of steel rang out, a symphony of destruction under the shadowy veil of night. Eventually, Enzo found himself face to face with the leader of the Bianchi attackers... a monstrous figure wielding a blade as black as the void. They exchanged blows, each strike sparking with ferocious intensity.

"You cannot protect him forever, Enzo!" the Bianchi leader sneered, his voice a serpentine slither.

"Watch me," Enzo retorted, his tone low and deadly.

The Bianchi leader's sneer morphed into a cold, mirthless smile. "If you survive this, go kiss your old man goodbye," the leader retorted, his tone mocking yet cautious as he was aware of the true danger Enzo represented. "We're coming for him and his bigoted colleagues next."

"We'll see about that," Enzo breathed, his eyes narrowing in determination as he lunged forward.

Enzo's movements were a blur, a dance of shadows under the moonlit sky. His opponent barely had time to react as Enzo closed the distance between them with supernatural swiftness. With a deft twist of his wrist and a precise application of force, he sent the leader's weapon clattering to the ground, leaving him exposed and unarmed. The sound of metal hitting stone echoed ominously, a stark reminder of the deadly stakes at play.

The leader's eyes dilated in sheer terror, a fleeting moment of realization before Enzo's sword mercilessly pierced his chest, driving deep with fatal precision. The leader tumbled to the ground in a cloud of dust, another victim claimed by the night's grim harvest. With their leader vanquished, the morale of the remaining Bianchi radicals shattered, making them considerably easier to dispatch. Enzo swiftly navigated through the radicals, his sword slicing through them as if they were mere butter and his blade was searing hot.

As the battle wore on, the ground became littered with the fallen—nearly all from the Bianchi clan. Though vastly outnumbered, Enzo's warriors fought with the ferocity of those defending their very essence. Amidst the fray, only one of Enzo's men fell, his sacrifice a silent testament to their unyielding spirit.

With the majority of the attackers killed, Enzo seized the moment, rushing to where Fidel cowered behind a crumbling wall. Grabbing him by the collar, Enzo's voice was both a command and a promise, "You're safe now; move!" Turning to his warriors, he issued another order, "Turn all the fallen to dust." It was crucial; they couldn't risk humans stumbling upon dried-up vampire remains and panicking.

As the first light of dawn tinged the sky with pale gold, Enzo and his warriors, accompanied by the solemn witness, silently retreated into the embracing shadows, leaving the blood-soaked battlefield behind. With supernatural speed, they navigated through the dark alleys until they reached a nondescript vehicle waiting to whisk Fidel away to a safe house. The entire battle lasted just about forty-five minutes.

As they drove off, Enzo's stern gaze softened slightly, watching the city pass by—a city unaware of the supernatural war waged in its shadows. Tonight, a battle was won, a life saved, but as the adrenaline ebbed away, the thoughts of the victorious vampire drifted to his mate, who was miles away. Enzo fought to suppress a whimper, the longing for his mate's embrace overwhelming. He yearned to be held, soothed, pampered, and cherished, not to mention the tantalizingly naughty things Sylver artfully delivered in between. The silent demands his mate made on his body, the intensity with which he gave and took pleasure—it all flooded Enzo's mind in a vivid rush.

"Shit, I need to speak to him," Enzo muttered under his breath.

"I didn't catch that, boss." Pablo's voice broke through his reverie, curiosity plain in his tone as he glanced at his leader.

"It's nothing, Pablo," Enzo dismissed quickly, but then, on second thought... "Stop the car," he instructed. The car stopped immediately. "Go on ahead. I'll catch up later."

With that, Enzo got out and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

**

When Sylver saw the name flashing on his phone, his heart leapt—an involuntary reaction that caught him off guard. Enzo had called about an hour earlier, just to say he was home and had something to handle. The quick follow-up call sparked a flicker of worry in Sylver.

'Can you try not to kill us before our time, please?' his wolf growled from within, its voice tinged with annoyance. 'And shouldn't he be in bed or something?' It was nearly eight p.m. in the States, which meant it was approaching five a.m. in Italy.

'He landed just about an hour ago. Why should he be sleeping?' Sylver retorted sharply to his wolf. 'Now shut up.'

Despite not having mated with Enzo yet, the vampire's absence was clearly affecting his wolf, which had become increasingly irritable, snapping at him at the slightest provocation. Talk about being smitten, Sylver mused with a smirk, closing the book he had been reading as he answered the call.

"Hey," Sylver greeted with a smile in his voice, but all he received in return was the sound of Enzo's labored breathing. There was no reply. "Enz, are you okay?" Sylver's tone sharpened with concern.

"I am," Enzo managed to say, his breaths short and heavy. He was surprised at his own reaction; he battled all the time but had never felt such an intense need to be with anyone afterward.

"You don't sound okay," Sylver pressed, his worry mounting. "Talk fast before I break my promise. What's going on?"

"I'm fine. Just missing you," Enzo replied, his voice strained as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to quell the groan that threatened to escape.

"What are you doing now?" Sylver asked softly. "And don't even think of lying to me."

"I was in a battle," Enzo confessed quietly.

"What!" Sylver's voice boomed as he sprang to his feet, shock and concern flooding his senses.

"We won," Enzo hastened to reassure him. "We achieved what we were fighting for. Lost one of my warriors, but you should see the other guys," he chuckled, a hint of dark humor colouring his tone despite the situation.

"You sure you're okay?" Sylver asked gently, his voice a calm coating over the tumult of emotions churning inside him. His body trembled with barely suppressed anger. Who dared to fight his mate?

"I wouldn't have called if I wasn't— the last thing I want is to worry you."

"I would expect you to call me if you're not okay, on the contrary, Enzo," Sylver said sternly, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining composure. "I need to see you."

"You promised. This is a bad time. Besides, I'm fine," Enzo reassured, trying to soothe Sylver's concerns while managing his own conflicted emotions.

Sylver remained silent for a moment, processing everything. Then, he seemed to make a decision. "I will FaceTime you then."

"I'm outside, on my way home. I'll call you when I get in," Enzo promised, his voice steady. "But I'm fine. I just wanted to hear your voice. What were you doing when I called?"

"Reading."

"What were you reading?"

"Gray's Anatomy. My sixth time reading it," Sylver chuckled as he took his seat and looked at the book lying beside him.

"I remember that one," Enzo said, his tone tinged with nostalgia. "I think it was published in eighteen... fifty-six?"

"Fifty-eight," Sylver laughed softly. "I sometimes forget you went into medicine for a bit. You should have gotten your medical license. We could have practiced together, built a massive state-of-the-art hospital." His voice held a wistful note, imagining what might have been.

Enzo chuckled, remembering the conversation when he had explained to Sylver why he abandoned his dream of becoming a doctor. He was young and didn't have much self-control then. He didn't trust himself around blood, so had decided to steer clear of the medical field. Instead, he had pursued other professions; he was once a sharp lawyer, later a professional pilot, and had dabbled in various other fields along the way.

"I will build that state-of-the-art hospital for you if you want," Enzo said, his tone serious. "Just let me know when. What did you eat this evening?"

Their conversation flowed seamlessly from casual banter to significant topics. The two shared laughs chatting effortlessly about everything and nothing, just as lovers naturally would. The call concluded with Enzo promising to FaceTime as soon as he arrived home.

"You know what will happen if you don't follow through with that promise," Sylver warned, his tone deceptively sweet, but Enzo saw right through it.

"One of these days, I'm going to take you over my knee, Sylvester Stanton," Enzo chuckled, the cheerfulness in his voice signaling a return to his usual self.

"Ooh, Zaddy," Sylver purred playfully, sending Enzo into peals of laughter.

Even after they ended the call, each man continued to laugh delightfully. Enzo felt revitalized, more himself than he was before calling Sylver, while Sylver was comforted, knowing his mate was safe and sound.

**

"I'm telling you, there's a mole," Enzo fumed, his voice tight with barely restrained anger as he paced back and forth across his office like a caged predator itching to strike. "How else could they have known not just that the witness was found, but the exact route we were going to take?" He paused, then turned to face his father, who had arrived to check on him after the grueling dawn operation. "This wasn't a lucky guess; it was a setup."

"They were waiting for us." Pablo scowled. "And we were outnumbered. But we showed those motherfuckers." His sudden grin was like a burst of sunshine. "Could it be that their use of dark magic was responsible for their unnervingly precise intel?" he asked with a curious frown.

"It's possible," Leonardo Jilani conceded, his voice tight with frustration. "Depending on the potency of the dark magic, intercepting your plans could be possible. You must consider every possibility and tighten your defenses." His eyes locked onto his son. "How do you plan to proceed?"

"If there's a mole, we need to find them," Enzo breathed. "But in the meantime, Fidel's testimony will be recorded while a new council is being formed."

"Good." Leonardo nodded, then shifted his gaze towards Pablo. "I'd like to speak to your boss alone, Pablo."

Pablo nodded respectfully and started for the door. "I'll be at the safe house, boss."

"I'll be right over," Enzo said, rising from his seat behind the desk and crossing the room to his father, who was seated on the couch. "Is there a problem?" he asked as he took a seat beside his father, his brow furrowing when he caught the stern look of disapproval etched across his father's features.

"You went too far, son," Leonardo admonished without preamble. "We can't act like them."

Enzo's eyes flared with anger as he clenched his fists. "And what would you have me do, Father? Allowed them to grab Fidel?"

"That's not what I'm saying. You didn't have to kill so many of them. You could have..."

"Talked them out of their murderous haze?" Enzo sneered, cutting his father off. "There's no reasoning with Raffaele and his scoundrels, Father. We had to act quickly and leave before the humans started waking up. Are you aware of the level of mayhem they are causing?" His voice had a sharp edge. "Humans are being drained all over town, and it's only a matter of time before they start piecing things together. They're already spouting supernatural theories, and if this keeps up, it'll be out of control. That is unacceptable." He ran his fingers through his hair, a clear sign of his frustration. "I will handle this my way, Father. Meet them boot for boot."

"You mean, resort to dark magic too?" His father snapped, his eyes narrowing with condemnation.

"No, not dark magic, but we have to fight fire with fire. If we don't, and everything goes to shits, we'll regret playing by the book." Enzo shrugged.

"I just hate all this violence," Leonardo groaned, his voice heavy with distress. "What will other countries think of us?"

"There's something I need to tell you, Father," Enzo said, his tone subdued. The threats from the leader of the attackers lingered ominously in his mind. "It's critical that we act proactively to avoid any unfortunate surprises. I think you need to leave Italy for a while..."

"What!" Leonardo's response was a mix of shock and disbelief as he gave his son an incredulous look.

"Just hear me out, please," Enzo implored, his voice tinged with urgency. "Consider going to the States for a bit, just to lie low. We've already lost five Lord Commands since this conflict began. I can't bear the thought of anything happening to you."

"Nothing will happen to me," Leonardo snorted, his voice carrying a blend of reassurance and stubborn defiance.

"Yeah, well, we can't take any chances," Enzo snapped, his eyes blazing with frustration.

"I won't run like a coward. I'm staying right here."

Enzo stared at his father, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern. The lines of worry deepened on his face as he leaned forward, his gaze locking with Leonardo's.

"Father, I know it's a lot to ask," he began, his voice steady yet filled with emotion. "But the situation here is escalating faster than we can manage. Your safety is paramount, and I wouldn't suggest this if there weren't any real danger."

Leonardo's face remained stoic, yet the slight tightening of his jaw suggested he was wrestling with the idea. Sensing his father's hesitation, Enzo continued, his tone more insistent.

"We need you safe, not just for our family, but for the stability of our community. Raffaele is not only using his clan. He has mercenaries working for him. Not to mention dark magic. When they attack, they don't discriminate in their violence. Going to the States might be our best chance to ensure your safety until the threat has been neutralized." Enzo paused, giving his words a moment to sink in, hoping his father would see the wisdom in caution over valor.

"I'm not leaving."

Enzo's shoulders sagged slightly, a silent testament to his acceptance of the daunting challenge that lay ahead with his father's decision.

***

Two weeks had passed since Enzo returned to Italy, and Jeremy and Ryan's home was bursting with energy during one of their vibrant gatherings.

"What do you mean they're stuck doing schoolwork?" Will scoffed, crossing his arms. "It's a Saturday, for crying out loud! We're all here having a blast, and they're upstairs buried in books? That's just wrong."

"Those girls are impossible, Will," Ryan groaned, dragging his fingers through his hair in a clear display of frustration. "They're not leaving that study until every bit of that schoolwork is finished."

"There's a time for everything, Prof. Lighten up," Philip chuckled.

The group had gathered at Jeremy and Ryan's home for brunch, enjoying themselves in their usual raucous fashion. The entire crew was present, laughter filling the air as they indulged in good food and great company.

The spread was nothing short of indulgent, the table filled with an array of delicious dishes: fluffy stacks of buttermilk pancakes drizzled with maple syrup, a variety of fresh fruits, and bowls of Greek yogurt topped with granola and honey. There were platters of smoked salmon next to bagels with cream cheese, capers, and sliced onions. A large dish of baked eggs nestled in a rich tomato and bell pepper sauce sat beside crispy bacon, golden hash brown, and a whole lot more. Freshly baked croissants and pastries oozing with chocolate and fruit fillings were scattered across the table, while pitchers of freshly squeezed orange juice and rich, aromatic coffee completed the feast. The smell of savory and sweet treats mingled in the air, making it impossible not to savor every bite.

"This is what I'm talking about," Troy, the alpha's mate and brother to Jeremy, rubbed his palms together gleefully as he stared at the variety of lunch dishes.

A large platter of roasted chicken, perfectly seasoned with herbs and garlic, sat alongside a vibrant quinoa salad mixed with cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, avocado, and a light lemon vinaigrette. The tray of mini sliders with a mix of beef, chicken, and veggie patties, each topped with melted cheese that sat next to a basket of sweet potato fries, seemed to thrill Troy even more.

"For those craving something a bit heartier, there were slices of a savory quiche Lorraine," the resident chef announced. "I know you'll love these, Stan," she grinned at the crazy beta. "It's filled with bacon, onions, and Gruyère cheese just as you like it."

"Thank you, Araba," Stan said, bending to give the petit chef a kiss on her cheek. "You're the best. Did you..."

"It's right here," Araba laughed, pointing at one of the ladies holding a cheesecake.

"Damn, you're a lifesaver," Stan murmured, kissing her again.

"Pissed him off yet again, have you?" Jeremy smirked, casting a knowing glance in Stan's direction, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

Everyone knew that the beta only ordered cheesecake when he was in the doghouse—it was his go-to peace offering to placate his mate, who was a sucker for cheesecake.

Will raised an eyebrow, eyeing the cheesecake with mock skepticism. "Sorry babes, but you can't bribe your way out of this one with cream cheese and sugar," he quipped, crossing his arms.

Stan quickly went to his mate and crouched beside him. "What do you want? Name it, anything you want. I'll make it happen."

Will couldn't hold in his amusement. "Anything?" he asked, reaching out to wipe off a smear of hollandaise sauce from the edge of Stan's cheek with a playful grin.

"Anything."

"Get Gigi and Em down here," Will demanded, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I don't care how you do it. This brunch isn't happening without my girls."

"Oh, boy," Stan groaned, rubbing his temples dramatically, which only made everyone burst into laughter. As the self-appointed godfather of the twins, Will obviously couldn't accept that his girls were missing out on the fun. Not to mention the crucial detail that their daughter Isabel was eagerly anticipating some fun time with the twins, who were like sisters to her since they were the same age. "Sylver?" Stan bellowed.

"On it, Uncle Stan," Sylver laughed, wiping syrup off his lips with a napkin. "I haven't even seen them since I got here." He said, leaving the table.

"Make sure they're actually doing the work and not chatting, Syl," Ryan called out.

"Alright, Dad," Sylver responded as he bounded up the stairs.

Upstairs in the study, Sylver listened to the twins passionately complain about Ryan's 'unfair treatment.' Their voices overlapped as they recounted every perceived slight, arms flailing. Sylver struggled to hide his amusement, suspecting their grievances were exaggerated but knowing better than to interrupt.

"He's rendered us powerless," Gigi huffed. "It's way too much work, but he insists we don't use our abilities. What's the point of having powers if we can't use them?"

They weren't fifteen yet, so hadn't gotten their wolves, but they had inherited Ryan's warlock genes. Naturally, being the mischievous kids they were, they used magic to breeze through their schoolwork. As a professor, however, Ryan had a clear problem with that.

"How long have you been at it?" Sylver asked his sisters.

"Since five a.m.," Emma replied, looking on the verge of tears. "He said we can't leave until it's done!" She shot Sylver a look of pure frustration, clearly hoping for some solidarity with their plight. "How's that fair?"

"We're done with all the digital stuff," Gigi sighed, pushing her laptop aside. "But we still have all the manual work left, and it's a lot."

"Yeah," Emma added, holding up her notebook. "We've got pages of this to write out, and it's going to take forever! How are we expected to..."

"Alright, alright, want me to help you?" Sylver interrupted, raising a hand for silence.

The twins exchanged hopeful glances. "You'd actually help us?" Emma asked.

"Of course, but there's a catch," Sylver shrugged.

Groans erupted. "Knew it was too good to be true," Gigi muttered, rolling her eyes dramatically.

"Hear me out," Sylver began, his tone firm but gentle. "I'll help you sort through this, but you have to promise me you'll take your schoolwork seriously."

"We promise!" they chimed in unison, almost too quickly. Sylver chuckled, already having guessed their response before they even spoke.

"I'm going to hold you to that promise, ladies," Sylver warned, a hint of seriousness in his voice. "And just so you know, I'll be having a word with not just Dad but your teachers as well."

The twins glanced at each other. They knew their brother didn't bluff. Gigi bit her lip, a hint of worry crossing her face. "Alright, we get it," she muttered, her tone more subdued.

Emma nodded, looking down at the floor. "We promise to do better, Snuggles," she said earnestly, her use of their pet name for him making Sylver smile. "We'll take it seriously this time."

"Good. I'll speak to Dad about relaxing his rules, but only if you give it your all." At their eager nods, Sylver smirked. "Now get to work. The sooner you finish, the sooner we can join the fun downstairs. Besides, Uncle Will has been asking to see you two."

"Yassss! Did he bring Isabel?" Emma squealed, her eyes lighting up at the thought of Will and Stan's daughter possibly being downstairs.

"Yep. And where do you think you're going?" Sylver asked sharply as the girls shot to their feet.

"To see her," Gigi said.

"No, you're not. You're going to sit your arses down and get this work done," he growled. "Now, let's see..." he muttered, stretching his hands over the pile of books. Instantly, the blank pages began to fill with notes and answers.

The girls giggled as they watched the pages turning and filling with speed. "What happened to not using abilities?" Emma laughed.

"It's your abilities you were asked not to use, not mine," Sylver muttered under his breath. Then, in a sudden burst of unity, all three shouted 'Loophole' together and erupted into peals of laughter. Ever since they were very young, they had delighted in finding loopholes in their fathers' rules, exploiting them without getting caught. It was their cherished private joke. "Just so you know, this is going to be only eighty-five percent accurate."

"But we want a hundred!" Emma exclaimed.

"And you can easily get a hundred. All you have to do is read through and add on." He grinned when both girls groaned. "You know that when you actually focus, you can easily get a perfect score, right?"

"Aw, come on, Syl," Gigi groaned. "At least make it ninety percent so we can get As. If we're cheating, we might as well get As."

"Eighty-five. Take it or leave it," Sylver insisted and almost burst into laughter at the look on his sisters' faces. "Done," he said. "Aw, don't look so down, you little monsters. After the guests leave, come back and do what I suggested—add on to your work and clock those A's. If you don't, you're not getting anything above eighty-five. Thank you very much." He gave his sisters a blank stare so absurdly comical that it tipped them into fits of laughter.

"Oh, we're soo getting those As." Emma gave her brother a fist bump. "We will read through and add on after brunch."

"That's what I like to hear." Sylver clapped. "Now, arrange the books for Dad's inspection, tidy up this place, and join us downstairs."

"You're the best, Snuggles!" Gigi squealed, hugging Sylver.

"How about you help us tidy up?" Emma asked, not bothering to hide her crossed fingers.

Sylver raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I'm not the one who turned this place into a disaster zone. Consider it part of the 'taking things seriously' promise," he chuckled, giving them a playful salute before turning to leave the study.

***

Meanwhile, in Italy, the clock had just struck ten p.m. And in the dimly lit study of Leonardo Jilani, the air was thick with tension as Enzo sat across from his father.

"I'm sorry, but it has already been arranged. She leaves in the morning," Enzo stated, the look on his face grim.

"How dare you make decisions without consulting me first," Leonardo growled. "This is my family. She is my soulmate."

"And she is my mother!" Enzo growled right back.

Enzo had just returned from a standoff with the Bianchi clan, where he had successfully ambushed a bloodthirsty group and wiped them out. He had come to Italy under the impression that everything would be resolved within three days, allowing him to return to his mate. Instead, two weeks had already passed, and he was still stuck, caught in the chaos. His father's stubbornness was making things even more difficult for Enzo.

The council had deliberately chosen not to invite Raffaele Bianchi to defend himself. Given the extensive chaos he had already unleashed, they saw no point in it. Instead, they issued a direct order for his capture. This decisive action only served to intensify the mayhem, fueling an even greater rampage.

The Bianchi clan, with help from other vicious clans with whom they had pacts, ran amok... their aim was to secure their dominance through fear and brutality. The radicals had begun a campaign of terror across Italy by unleashing violence. Vampires were killing other vampires indiscriminately, their bodies left as grim warnings. In cities like Rome, Milan, and Naples, innocent humans had been found fed on and drained of blood as if they were nothing more than cattle, just to replenish the strength of the wayward vampires.

The Primarch, the highest echelon of vampire authority, had declared Raffaele Bianchi and his supporters as criminals. Seasoned warriors were deployed to join Enzo's team with strict orders: apprehend Raffaele and eliminate anyone aiding his cause on sight. They knew that if Raffaele and his cohorts weren't stopped, the vampire society would spiral into chaos, risking an unprecedented bloodbath that could spill over into the human world.

Yet, despite the efforts of Enzo and his team, Raffaele and his followers remained elusive, using dark magic to gain a terrifying edge that kept them hidden. Whispers of terror echoed through the cities, striking fear into the hearts of both humans and vampires alike. In Florence, the situation had reached a boiling point as terrified humans had begun to flee the city, seeking refuge from the violence that had turned their home into a death zone. And it was becoming increasingly clear that the vampire lords and those close to them were being targeted. This was precisely why Enzo was insistent that his mother should leave the country, especially since his father was not prepared to do so.

Leonardo stared at his son's unrelenting face for a moment before letting out a sigh, his resistance fading. "You know I can't function properly if she's not around," he said quietly.

"Oh, really?" Enzo's tone was sharp with bitterness. "I wish I were with my soulmate right now, but you don't see me rushing off to the States, do you?"

The moment the words left his lips, Enzo silently cursed himself, praying his father hadn't noticed the inadvertent revelation. The man had no idea Sylver was back in his life, and now that secret was teetering on the edge of exposure.

"What did you just say?" The vampire lord's voice dropped to a low, menacing growl, his face hardening in an instant.

Enzo pinched the bridge of his nose, his frustration evident in the gesture. "Sylver came to me," he admitted quietly, his voice betraying a mix of defiance and vulnerability. "He knows I'm his mate. We are... courting."

Leonardo's piercing gaze bore into his son, his expression an unreadable mask. The last thing he needed was the added complication of a forbidden union on top of the chaos already spiraling around them.

"We'll deal with this after the current crisis is under control," Leonardo said finally, his tone clipped but measured. "Until then, there should be no intimacy with that wolf. He must remain nothing more than an acquaintance. It is for your own good, son."

Enzo's jaw tightened, the effort of holding his tongue apparent in the tension that rippled through his body. "He's my soulmate, Father," he ground out, his voice trembling with restrained anger. "I feel everything a mate is supposed to feel. Every pull, every ache..." His voice broke as emotion flooded his tone. "You think I can just switch it off? Pretend it's not there?" The whisper that followed was raw, jagged with pain. "I can't."

Leonardo's gaze softened, despite his iron resolve. His son's anguish was palpable, radiating in the room between them. As much as he knew a union with Sylver could never happen, the vampire lord could not ignore the pain in his son's voice. It was obvious that his son was already in deep, and he understood the agony his kind endured when separated from their soulmates after forming such a bond. He had nearly lost his other son to this very torment. He couldn't bear the thought of losing another. Neither could he stand by and watch his son suffer the consequence of being with a werewolf. Leonardo felt torn.

But distractions were not welcomed right then, Leonardo thought. Enzo's focus had to remain razor-sharp, locked onto the task at hand. They needed Enzo. But for his strategies and smart work, Raffaele and his radicals would have already succeeded in their quest for power. Enzo's efforts had significantly slowed down the enemy's progress. News of Enzo's victories had spread far and wide, igniting excitement among the other lords and leaving Raffaele Bianchi boiling with rage. As a father, Leonardo felt more concern than pride regarding his son's triumphs, as he deeply feared for Enzo's safety.

Leonardo watched his son with a heavy heart, aware that even the slightest misstep could prove fatal for Enzo. It was essential, therefore, that Enzo remain vigilant and focused. But he also knew that for his son to regain full focus, he first needed to address his personal issues. The vampire lord looked down, his long fingers entwining and untangling in a rare show of unease.

"Damn it, this is going to be a whole war on its own," Leonardo finally breathed. He let out a deep sigh, his gaze lifting to meet his son's. "Would you..." Leonardo hesitated, the words heavy with reluctant compassion. "Would you want to go with your mother? Just to... see him briefly?"

The offer hung in the air, startling in its unexpected tenderness. Guilt and resolve warred within Leonardo's eyes, but it was his son's expression—a fragile mix of shock, hope, and despair—that held his attention.

"I... I..." Enzo struggled to form words, visibly shocked. "I'd like that," he managed to say after a moment, his eyes wide with surprise. He definitely hadn't expected that from his father. "But not now. I need to..." Enzo's words trailed off as a sudden commotion echoed from outside the door. They knew it wasn't a threat because they could hear laughter. A very familiar one. "No... what's he doing here?" Enzo groaned, massaging his forehead in exasperation just as the door flew open to reveal a strikingly handsome man dressed in sharp, fashionable attire.

Dario Jilani grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Hey, fam..." he drawled, heading straight for Enzo, who met him halfway for a fierce embrace.

Neither seemed ready to break the embrace, holding on as if trying to make up for lost time. It wasn't until Dario felt his father's firm hand on his shoulder that he slowly released Enzo.

"Hello, Father," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper as he turned to pull Leonardo into a warm, steady embrace.

"I missed you, son," Leonardo murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he tightened the embrace, unwilling to let go just yet.

"You have no idea how hard it's been to stay away all these decades," Dario groaned.

Dario's move to France hadn't been a simple choice; it was a necessity. He had once been the calmest, most fun-loving, and joyful person—until tragedy struck. His soulmate, a human, had been brutally murdered by a mafia boss in the year nineteen hundred and one. The loss had shattered Dario, pushing him past the point of no return. In his rage, he had turned off his humanity, unleashing a fury that shocked even the supernatural world.

He went on a relentless rampage, wiping out the entire family of the mafia boss, sparing only the man himself to let him drown in the pain of loss. But he didn't stop there. The fool who had pulled the trigger suffered the same brutal fate as the mafia boss. Naturally, the mafia world had pointed accusatory fingers at Dario's soulmate's family, which had sparked a brutal war. Dario's unbridled wrath had led to a bloodbath so massive it was unforgivable.

In the aftermath, his status as Leonardo's heir was stripped away, the burden of succession falling onto Enzo. The weight of countless human lives lost, coupled with the agony of being surrounded by memories of his lost soulmate, became too much for Dario to bear. Consumed by regret and grief, he fled Italy to permanently relocate to France, seeking solace in distance and a change of scenery.

Enzo loved his brother and was genuinely happy to see him back home, but a knot of worry tightened in his chest. Dario didn't handle conflict well. Once a vampire had gone over the edge even once, it took very little to push them there again. His brother was a ticking time bomb. The current situation was volatile, and he feared it might trigger the darkness Dario had fought so hard to escape.

"Why did you come?" Enzo asked, his tone gentle.

"Relax, little brother," Dario said with a calm, almost teasing smile. "I'm only here to help. I've heard about what's been happening."

"You can help by going to the States with Mum," Enzo suggested, his tone firm. "I'd feel a lot more comfortable knowing you're with her, keeping an eye on her."

"We both know I'll be of more help here than I'll be as a babysitter." Dario's eyes flashed.

"First of all, your mother is not a baby," Leonardo snapped, his eyes flashing with irritation. "Secondly, it would be best for the family if you were by her side. But..." He raised a hand, silencing whatever protest Dario was about to make. "You can't leave with her tomorrow."

"Father..." Enzo groaned, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his father's decision.

"Hear me out," the Lord Command interjected commandingly as he resumed his seat. "For the next few days, you'll bring Dario up to speed on everything happening here," he began, his gaze fixed intently on Enzo. "That way, he can hold the fort while you go visit... Sylvester. When you return, he'll head to the States to be with your mother. How does that sound?"

The brothers stared at their father, silently processing the weight of his words. Dario was the first to recover. "I think I like the sound of that." He nodded.

"It will give me the chance to take care of a few things with your mother before she leaves," the vampire lord said, managing to keep his expression serious. "Besides, he just arrived," he added, his voice carrying an almost pleading tone. "I want to spend some time with him, just for a while."

"And I need to hear everything about your time with Sylver," Dario said, shooting Enzo a teasing smirk.

"You mean even you knew they've been together?" Leonardo frowned.

"Yep," Dario said with a mischievous grin, eliciting a groan from Enzo.

"Who else knows?" Leonardo asked sharply. "Does your mother..."

"No, she doesn't," Enzo said quickly. "Very well, Father, I'll bring Dario up to speed as you've suggested, " he added, trying to change the subject. He glanced at his brother, who couldn't seem to curb his triumphant grin. "Wipe that smirk off your face, dipshit. Seen Mother yet?" he asked quietly, unable to suppress the amused chuckle that escaped his lips. He had definitely missed his brother.

"Going to see her now," Dario responded, but before he could turn to leave, a gust of wind swept through the room and, with it, their mother, the lovely Aurora Jilani.

"I heard you were in," she said shakily, her voice trembling and eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "You should have come to see me first," she whispered. It was clear just how much she had missed her son.

"Oh, Mother!" Dario breathed as he rushed to her, wrapping her in a tight embrace. He cradled her close, rocking her gently as one would a child, his hand stroking her hair in a soothing rhythm. "I've missed you so much," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as if trying to make up for all the lost time in that single, tender moment.

"Will you take the mushy stuff out of here?" Enzo groaned.

"Shut up, Enzo," both Leonardo and Dario said in unison, their voices blending together in perfect synchronization, which had Enzo rolling his eyes dramatically.

"Fuck my life," Enzo muttered under his breath, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He needed to hear his voice.

To say Enzo had missed Sylver would have been a colossal understatement. The ache of longing grew stronger with every passing moment away from him. The anarchy had kept him busy, but it couldn't drown out the ache of missing his soulmate. It gnawed at him constantly, a painful reminder that distance was more than just miles—it was an emptiness that no distraction could fill. Sylver picked up on the first ring.

***

In the residence of the alphas of all alphas, brunch was still in full swing. The atmosphere buzzed with energy as laughter and lively chatter flowed through the open doors, mingling with the clinking of glasses, adding warmth and vibrancy to the gathering. Sylver stood out on the balcony, phone pressed to his ear, laughing uproariously at what Enzo was saying.

"Christ, I miss you," Sylver laughed.

"Not as much as I miss you," Enzo responded. "If missing someone could kill, I'd be six feet under by now."

"You're already dead, mister," Sylver quipped, a hint of a smile in his voice.

"Smart-arse," Enzo muttered, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "How did the meeting with the Mayfair doctors go this morning?"

"Better than we expected," Sylver replied. "The collaboration starts next month."

"Good." Enzo's voice softened with concern. "How's the pain today?"

His absence had inexplicably left Sylver in discomfort, a curious development since they hadn't mated yet, nor had Sylver marked him. According to Deloris, the more powerful the being, the more acute the emotions felt. She could only ease it, not erase it—another reason Enzo felt the urgency to return to his mate.

"Much more bearable," Sylver assured.

"Have you told Del I said I owe her one for easing your pain? I can't wait for all this to be over."

"What if it doesn't end anytime soon?" Sylver's voice was quiet, tinged with uncertainty. "You immortals don't really notice as days, months, and years slip by. But what if this war drags on for decades? Even centuries? Do I never get to see my mate again? Especially since you've made me promise not to come there." The desperation in Sylver's tone was palpable, edging into a whine, but he was past caring about how he sounded. "I feel... lost, Enz."

Enzo's spirits plummeted as he listened to Sylver's words. He felt terrible for the strain his absence was causing, the weight of his responsibilities clashing painfully with the needs of his heart and the comfort of his mate. It was as if Sylver was enduring withdrawal symptoms, and Enzo knew how agonizing that could feel.

"Know the annoying part?" Sylver continued, frustration evident in his tone. "We didn't even fuck. We might as well have."

"What we shared was more intimate than that, Syl," Enzo responded gently. "And I'm sorry, but I wouldn't change a thing if we had to do it all over again. Those lips, those kisses... I'm getting hot and bothered just thinking about it."

Sylver's chest heaved, his lips parting in a breathless chuckle. "Unbelievable," he murmured, his voice rough but filled with amusement. "You're crazy, you know that?" His mirth eased the tension in their conversation.

"Just crazy about you. Did you put on the outfit I chose for you?" Enzo asked, his voice husky.

"I did," Sylver murmured, his smile unmistakable even through the phone.

"Fuck! Send me a picture if you get the chance."

"How about I..." Just then, Paige stepped onto the balcony, interrupting Sylver. He told Enzo he would call him back once he got home and ended the call.

"You're blushing?" Paige murmured, watching as Sylver's smile grew wider by the second.

"Am I? Must be the weather." Sylver's eyes darted around without focus. He appeared completely flustered.

"Yeah, right," Paige drawled just as Sylver's phone beeped with a message. He read it and instantly had a full-body blush. Paige didn't need to be a genius to guess who that message was from.

"You've got it real bad, my dear," Paige chuckled, a knowing glint in her eyes.

"Auntie Paige, come on," Sylver groaned, covering his face with his hands as if that could somehow hide the flush spreading across his cheeks.

"Clearly, your man knows how to tickle you pink." She grinned. "That's good."

"He's something else, Auntie Paige," Sylver remarked, shaking his head in disbelief. "Honestly, when have you ever known me to be at a loss for words?" His tone mixed amusement with a touch of awe.

Paige chuckled, raising her glass with a playful glint in her eyes. "Never."

"Well, I find myself constantly dumbstruck around him," Sylver admitted, his voice sounding surprised. "The things he does are just... mind-boggling."

"And from that blush, pretty naughty too," Paige deadpanned. Both laughed.

Sylver couldn't help but recall all the surprises his mate still managed to pull even from Italy. Despite whatever crises he was facing in Italy, Enzo made it a point to text Sylver throughout the day with sweet, seemingly random messages. Whether it was a simple 'Thinking of you' or an amusing photo of something he saw that reminded him of Sylver, these little interruptions always brought a smile to Sylver's face. Some texts were playful—like a photo of Enzo holding a chocolate bar to his lips with a mischievous grin captioned, 'Satisfying my sweet tooth... but I know something even sweeter!' Sylver usually couldn't curb his chuckles, smiles, and blushes. It was as if Enzo needed to remind Sylver—and perhaps himself—that no matter how chaotic things became, his thoughts always drifted back to him.

"Now, check this out, Auntie Paige," Sylver chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "So, two days ago, I stepped out the door on my way to work, and what do I see? A parcel right on my doorstep." Sylver glanced at Paige, his expression a blend of amusement and astonishment. "Inside? My favorite cologne. And guess what happened two days before that? A box of Swiss chocolates arrived at my office, accompanied by the most stunning bouquet you can imagine."

"They just don't make them that chivalrous anymore," Paige sighed, placing a hand dramatically over her chest, which made Sylver laugh.

What he didn't mention to Paige was the note that always accompanied each gift—sweet, simple words like, 'Just something to remind you that you're on my mind, always.' Words that never failed to make his heart flutter, no matter how many times he read them.

"He has a knack for the grand, but it's his small, thoughtful gestures that blow my mind and leave me... breathless."

"Oh, my god, you're in love with your mate, Syl," Paige whispered, her eyes studying him with a knowing warmth.

Sylver fell silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "I know."

"Aww, Syl," Paige murmured, her eyes softening as she reached out to gently squeeze his arm.

For werewolves, the instinct to care for a mate and protect them from harm was not necessarily love—it was an intrinsic bond. While true love did develop between some along the way, it was not the norm. They were animals, after all.

"I know it's too fast, but I couldn't help it," he admitted with a small shrug. "The way he makes me feel... It's like I'm the only one in the world that matters. And as if that wasn't enough, he's just so stunning, so irresistibly hot. Loving him is the easiest thing I've ever done."

"You're also very easy to love, my dear," Paige said gently, her eyes filled with warmth. "Thank God Deloris cast that spell to ease the pain of his absence. Because, with the way you feel about him, it would have been pure hell without it. And you've not even marked him yet."

"Honestly, the pain I felt when he left caught me off guard, Auntie Paige. It was intense, which surprised me considering..."

"It's all in here," Paige interrupted, tapping her temple. "It's the thought of him not being there that fucks you up."

"Well, I..." Sylver began, but his words trailed off as Gigi suddenly popped her head through the doorway with a bright smile to announce that his friends were in.

"Flynn is so fine," she gushed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "Come on, brother mine, can't you put in a good word for me?" She batted her eyelashes dramatically. "I will be the perfect girlfriend."

"You're only fourteen," Sylver growled, narrowing his eyes at her, his tone protective.

"Rude," Gigi shot back with an eye roll.

Paige dissolved into laughter as she watched the exchange with amused delight. "Come on." She slid her arm through Sylver's and steered him off the balcony to rejoin the others inside.

**

Inside, Sylver's friends, Flynn, Drew, and Colton were deep in conversation with Ryan, Stan, and Philip. They were Sylver's closest werewolf friends. The moment Sylver stepped into the room, he caught snippets of their discussion and let out an audible groan.

"Seriously, guys? I told you, Enzo and I haven't even started planning an introduction party yet. We're still... getting to know each other," Sylver muttered, dropping onto the couch beside Paige.

Flynn snorted, a smirk playing on his lips. "Getting to know each other, huh? If you ask me, you two are way past that stage," he chuckled, swirling the golden liquid in his whiskey glass. "Those two practically want to tear each other's clothes off, even when they're miles apart," he added, eliciting chuckles from the others.

"Will you shut up, Flynn?" Sylver chuckled, giving his friend a playful shove. "All you guys want is an excuse for a party. We don't need my introduction to have one, you know."

"Actually, yes, we do," Colton shot back, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "And while we're at it, why not make it a trip to Italy? You can, uh, get your rocks off while we explore the sights. Sounds like fun to me."

"No one is going to Italy," Jeremy announced firmly as he joined the group.

"Why not?" Colton frowned. "We've never been."

"There's a war raging among the vampires. Italy is the last place a werewolf should be right now," Philip replied gravely. "Alpha Riccardo was here two days ago to brief Jeremy on the situation."

"All werewolves have been advised to keep a low profile," Jeremy added. "It's their war, and the last thing we need is to get dragged into it."

"Damn!" Flynn exhaled, his eyes widening as he turned to Sylver. "And you're okay with your mate being out there in the middle of that mess?"

Sylver sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not, but he made me promise not to come there, so..." he said with a helpless shrug.

"And you agreed?" Flynn looked at him incredulously.

"It's not our fight," Stan interjected, his tone matter-of-fact. "Getting involved is not advisable."

"Well, pardon me, but I distinctly remember my dad telling me about how you followed Will on a mission because you couldn't stand the thought of him facing danger alone." Andrew, the wildest and most radical of the group, interjected in his deep voice... a voice that had been jokingly compared to thunder rolling through a canyon.

Stan shot a quick glare toward an oblivious Pete before turning back to his son. "That's not why I followed Will, Drew," he replied evenly. "He was a newly turned wolf. You know how unpredictable and deadly those can be. I went to make sure he wasn't a threat to anyone and to keep his actions from exposing the supernatural. This situation is entirely different."

"Fair enough," Andrew conceded, though his expression remained thoughtful. "But what if Enzo is in danger?"

"The guy is nearly two hundred years old and possesses a wealth of experience. I'd say he can handle himself," Philip cut in, though there was a glimmer of pride in his eyes as he watched the younger wolves stand their ground.

"Besides," Paige added, her voice calm and thoughtful, "I think Enzo believes Sylver being there might do more harm than good. He would be a distraction, and he needs to focus, know what I'm saying..." She drawled with a naughty smirk, which drew chuckles from the others. "That's probably why he made him promise to stay away."

"With all due respect," Andrew began, almost as if each word took considerable effort to form. "I don't see any of you old folks sitting back and doing nothing if your mate were stuck in a war zone." Then, turning to Sylver, he added, "I say we ignore all these dry bones..."

"Drew," Sylver groaned, but Andrew's words had already stunned the older werewolves. They stared in disbelief while Flynn and Colton struggled to stifle their laughter.

"...are saying, and go to Italy to see for ourselves," Andrew continued as if Sylver hadn't interrupted. "No offense."

"Offense fucking taken, young man!" Stan gasped with a mock scandalized expression. "Dry bones? Is that really how you see us?"

Colton burst into laughter then. "And there I was, thinking you were outraged because he insisted we ignore y'all and go to Italy!" His comment sent a ripple of laughter through the room, drawing the attention of others nearby. George, Troy, and Pete joined them with curious expressions.

"What's going on here?" Pete asked, taking a seat.

"Your son and his pals are taking the bloody piss," Stan growled, his eyes narrowing in faux menace.

"No, we're not," Andrew countered. "We just feel Enzo might need our help, Dad."

"Think he's in danger?" Pete inquired, his intent gaze on his son.

"Well..." Andrew gave his father a blank look. "It's war. And Enzo is right there. I say he's in danger."

Pete's response was measured, his tone embodying both firmness and patience. "We don't rush into situations blindly, son. We analyze the situation, strategize carefully, and weigh all our options before we make a move."

Jeremy spoke up then, his voice low but firm. "As I stated earlier, none of you are traveling to Italy," he declared, his gaze steady on Andrew, who responded by respectfully averting his eyes. "At least not until I determine it's safe to proceed."

Colton turned his attention to Sylver then, a flicker of concern in his eyes. "You'd feel it if he was in real danger, right?" he asked softly.

"I don't know," Sylver whispered, worry etched into every line of his face. "I don't think so. I mean, he fights every day, which means he's in danger all the time. But I haven't felt it so far. What do you think, Dad?" he asked Ryan.

Ryan met his son's worried gaze with a measured calm. "You haven't marked him so it's not likely you'd feel it if he's in danger," he replied quietly.

"Fuck." Sylver groaned, the word slipping out with a raw edge that carried the weight of his frustration. The tension in his voice resonated in the room, drawing sympathetic glances from the others.

"This is you we're talking about, Syl. You will know," Troy said with unwavering confidence.

Sylver glanced at Troy, and though the worry still lingered in his eyes, his uncle's confidence was a small comfort. But the gnawing uncertainty didn't fully leave his heart.

"I'm with Troy on this," Stan said with a nod. "Hell, even when you were in the womb, you sensed when your fathers were in danger and saved them. You're even more powerful now so you would feel it if Enzo was in real trouble."

Colton's eyes went wide as he looked at Sylver in surprise. "He was saving grown-ups from the womb?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," Stan chuckled. "Once, his uncle over here," he gestured toward Troy, who let out a groan, "accidentally unleashed a fireball. It shot straight for a very pregnant Ryan. But it snuffed out on its own before it could touch him. Guess who was inside that womb?"

Sylver scoffed. "It's possible Dad snuffed out that fireball."

Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. "I didn't even see it coming. It was extinguished before I could say jack." He looked at his son, pride gleaming in his eyes.

"And then there was that time," Stan continued with a smirk, "when Madam Witch over there," he gestured toward Amber, who was laughing with Deloris and Gloria in another corner of the living room, "...decided to stroll into this pack as an envoy from hell." He grinned when Paige flipped him off. "Her mission was to blast Jeremy to kingdom come with nothing more than a handshake. But Sylver wouldn't let his father be touched."

"How old was he then?" Flynn asked with a curious look.

"He was still in the fucking womb," Paige drawled so comically they all laughed.

"I mean, I have a blood link with my parents, so it's only natural if I'm able to sense it when there's danger lurking," Sylver said as Deloris, Gloria, and Amber joined them. "But Enzo... he's different. Aside from being mates, we don't have any link."

"That is correct," Deloris confirmed with a nod, her tone calm and matter-of-fact. "The surest way to maintain a connection with your mate, even when they are far away, is to mark them. But trust in your power," she added softly, leaning down to press a kiss to Sylver's hair. "The intensity of your feelings for him directly influences your ability to sense any danger that might be surrounding him. Don't worry, you'll instinctively know what to do should the situation present itself. You're a warlock, baby. Not just a... mere wolf."

The room suddenly filled with growls of mock indignation, sparking a contagious wave of laughter from Deloris, Sylver, Ryan, and Amber, their mirth echoing through the air.

"Oh, no she didn't," Stan bellowed with feigned outrage, his eyes twinkling with hilarity as the playful growls from the others dissolved into hearty laughter. "I know this ancient lady didn't just refer to us as 'mere.'" Stan exclaimed, his tone sparking another round of laughter among the group.

Sylver exhaled deeply as he rose to his feet. "Thank you all for trying to make me feel better, but..."

"Did it work?" Philip interrupted, throwing Jeremy an amused look.

"Nope," Sylver confessed with a slow shake of his head. "It's settled," he announced firmly. "The sooner I mark that vampire, the better." He glanced toward the family area as he stretched. "Hey, Uncle Will, see you at the shooting range at four a.m. tomorrow." He called out to Will who was busy conducting some kind of drill with the younger ones in the family area.

"Why so early?" Stan groaned. "Can't you two go to the shooting range at six a.m. like normal people?"

"We wouldn't want to risk any human seeing something they shouldn't be seeing," Will responded. To avoid any accidents, they made it a point to use only the outdoor shooting range. "I'll bring the coffee, Syl."

"Thanks, Uncle Will," Sylver grinned, gesturing to his pals that it was time to leave. From a young age, he was utterly captivated by Will's life as a soldier, so much so that he constantly pleaded with Will to teach him how to handle a firearm. The Navy Seal had promised to teach him when he turned eighteen. Sylver never forgot that promise. His first lesson had been on his eighteenth birthday. "See you all later."

"And just for the record, we're neither old folks nor dry bones," Stan growled, feigning offense as laughter broke out again. "That title belongs to Mama G, Deloris, and co."

"Sorry, sir," Andrew replied insincerely, his cheeky grin drawing more laughter from the group. "See you all later."

With that, Sylver and his friends exchanged farewells and made their way out for their hangout session, leaving the room abuzz with lingering laughter and good spirits.

***

As the lead surgeon in a just-completed brain surgery, Sylver finished his notes on his patient's chart with expert precision and securely attached it to the foot of the bed. The surgery was on a teenager, and as usual, the procedure had gone flawlessly, which was no surprise. After all, he had a perfect record of never losing a patient.

"Professor Nazir will take care of the prescription, Mary," Sylver told the nurse.

"I'll get right on it," the professor, who was the assistant surgeon, replied with a nod, watching with a smile as Sylver approached the patient and gently placed his palm on her forehead.

Sylver did this with every patient after surgery, often glancing at his wristwatch as if timing something. His colleagues had grown used to it and would always smile. They had no idea that Sylver wasn't timing anything; he was rather channeling healing energy into the patient to speed up their recovery.

Once satisfied, Sylver stepped back and gave a thumbs up. "Thank you, guys," he said to the nurses with a smile. "Great job."

The team of surgeons began making their way out of the theater, typically heading to the meeting room to discuss the surgery they had just completed. As they stepped into the hallway, Sylver heard a commotion coming from one of the delivery rooms, which was on the floor above theirs. Someone was urgently saying that they were losing a patient. The others didn't hear it, of course, as unlike Sylver, they didn't have supernatural hearing.

"I'll catch up with you shortly," Sylver informed the team. "I need to quickly check on something in Maternity."

As the team of doctors headed to the meeting room, Sylver broke into a run. Upon reaching the maternity theater, he took in the scene with a quick glance. A woman on the birthing bed was in cardiac arrest and also bleeding heavily. Nearby, a nurse was hastily preparing the defibrillator. In another corner, two nurses were frantically trying to revive a baby who was rapidly turning blue.

"AFE," Sylver muttered, making a beeline for the baby. "Shit," he muttered under his breath when he noticed another baby, obviously the twin of the one the nurses were trying to revive, lying unmoving in a Moses basket. Sylver couldn't hear a heartbeat. He turned his attention to the one the nurses were trying to revive.

Amniotic fluid embolism was a rare, sudden, and life-threatening complication that could endanger both mother and baby. If it occurred during delivery, it could cut off blood flow and oxygen to the baby, causing fetal distress and sometimes death. The mother, on the other hand, could suffer cardiac arrest or severe bleeding, just like the woman on the bed.

"Can I have him, please?" Sylver asked the struggling nurses, who immediately handed the baby over. "Thank you." Cradling the newborn gently, he moved swiftly with long, purposeful strides toward the mother, who was currently receiving urgent defibrillation treatment. "May I try something, Dr. Anim?" he requested politely just as the baby in his arms began to cry, it's colour returning.

"Of course, Dr. Stanton. Do your thing." The doctor encouraged Sylver.

Even before the doctor finished speaking, Sylver gently placed the crying baby on the mother's chest. He placed one hand on the baby's back and the other on the mother's forehead. Almost instantly, the monitor began to display regular spikes, signaling the return of cardiac activity.

Sylver didn't miss the shocked gasps that fell from the nurses. "Nothing like the cry of a child, right? Sometimes that's all it takes for a mother to do what's needed." The lie fell easily.

As Dr. Anim signaled for a blood transfusion to be administered to the mother, she slowly opened her eyes and smiled tiredly at her baby.

"Congratulations," the doctor said warmly.

"Thank you," the mother whispered, her voice faint with exhaustion. Her gaze darted around the room as the nurses moved swiftly to set up the line for the transfusion. It was obvious she was wondering where her other baby was.

Sylver's heart clenched painfully. The unspoken question was like a knife twisting in his chest. He wanted to scream, to cry out in anguish, but the weight of the moment crushed his voice. Without a word, he turned abruptly and hurried out of the delivery room.

"Thank you, Dr. Stanton," Dr. Anim called after him, but Sylver couldn't even bring himself to respond.

The gratitude felt hollow against the storm of emotions raging inside him. All he could do was keep walking, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he fought to keep his composure. Outside the delivery room, Sylver doubled over, panting heavily. He had never seen a baby lose its life. Yes, he'd acted swiftly to save the other twin but he felt like he'd failed the other one. He groaned as the full weight of the ordeal hit him like a tidal wave, his hands trembling uncontrollably.

"Are you okay, Sylver?" Mia, a close friend and colleague, asked, her voice filled with concern.

"I'm fine," Sylver replied, straightening up and forcing a small smile. "Just a bit tired, that's all."

"Done for the day?" she asked, falling into step beside him.

"Almost," he sighed. "I need to be in an 'AD' first. I'll head out right after that."

"An after-discussion when you're this tired?" she chuckled. "Do you really have to be there?"

"You know I have to."

"I seem to recall someone skipping an AD or two when Enzo was in town," she teased with a grin.

The mere mention of his mate's name made Sylver ache for the vampire. "I was only an observer during those surgeries, Mia." Sylver rubbed the back of his neck. "But... I probably would've found a way to skip this one too if he were around," he added with a smirk, which sent Mia into a fit of giggles.

"No surprise there," Mia laughed. "Anyway, see you at Kwesi's tomorrow morning—unless, of course, you're ditching us for brunch with your family again, like you did last week." She raised a curious brow, a playful challenge in her eyes.

"Aw, come on, I eventually showed up with Flynn and the gang, didn't I?" Sylver chuckled. "And no, there's no brunch tomorrow," he added with a shake of his head. "So yeah, see you in the morning."

**

By the time Sylver finally made it home, it was late. He had been delayed after stopping by another hospital to check on some patients. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, the silence a stark contrast to the storm raging within him. His shoulders sagged, weighed down not only by exhaustion but also by a sadness that clung to him like a shadow—heavy and suffocating. The image of the lifeless baby haunted his mind, devastation wrapping around him like an unrelenting tide. Sylver felt utterly lost.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Sylver froze, his eyes instantly shifting to a vivid amber in response to the sweet, familiar scent that assailed his senses—its presence detected long before the sounds emanating from the kitchen could reach his ears. Sylver wasn't sure why his legs suddenly felt like lead. His heart pounded so hard he half-expected it to burst from his chest. A storm of emotions raged inside him—disbelief, a flutter of nervousness, but most overwhelming of all, excitement. For the second time that evening, Sylver's breath came in short, rapid bursts. He dropped his car keys and his phone onto the mantle, then blinked straight into the kitchen.

Sylver's breath hitched as he materialized in the kitchen, the familiar surroundings fading into the background the moment his eyes found his mate. He stood at the stove, barefoot, effortlessly captivating in sweatpants and a t-shirt that hugged his sculpted frame like it had been made just for him. The simple, domestic scene shouldn't have stolen Sylver's breath, but it did. He'd never seen anything so maddeningly irresistible and hot.

Every fiber of Sylver's being screamed to close the distance, to feel those strong arms around him, to breathe in that sweet, unique scent, to demand his comfort, his warmth... Yet he couldn't move. All he could do was stare, consumed by the fiery ache of longing, his pulse racing as if caught in the orbit of a star.

"Enzo..."

***

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