There wouldn’t have been a safe place for Antina to shift, even inside her home, if she’d hidden her nature from everyone living with her. He still couldn’t imagine how she’d survived without being attacked by Vampires and Lycans, but learning about Dr. Brent meant she’d had some kind of an alliance with one of the two. Vampires were stronger so he would bet the doctor was a master Vampire. Those bastards couldn’t withstand direct sunlight but they didn’t have to sleep during the day.
Antina had birthed two daughters with a human. It had been her responsibility to warn them of the truth of their heritage and to have prepared them for her father attempting to use them in the future. Decker’s reason for wanting Bat in Alaska couldn’t be mistaken.
He couldn’t blame Antina for avoiding Aveoth. It would have doomed her to never having a family or being loved. Aveoth had once been a good man. Things had changed in his late teens. He’d become a heartless, vicious leader who’d instilled wariness in VampLycans after his father’s death. He wasn’t as bad as Decker though. The GarLycans didn’t want war. They just believed in segregation of the clans.
He closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing. He’d listened closely to the details he’d learned of Dusti’s mother. She’d died before Dusti had reached maturity but Bat had been eighteen. The age of consent. Why didn’t she at least warn Bat?
It left a bunch of unanswered questions. He believed Bat was as naive as her younger sister, despite Kraven’s reservations. He didn’t think Bat would have willingly boarded that plane to walk into Decker’s world otherwise, especially with Dusti at her side. She wasn’t submissive or the type to take orders without question. Drantos had to assume their mother hadn’t said a word to either daughter.
He adjusted his hold on Dusti to make sure she slept comfortably. She could have died when they’d had to separate. Her human blood made her weak and vulnerable. He slid his fingertips down her arm and grasped her limp hand. It felt small in his. He ran his thumb over one of her fingernails. They were thin and delicate. She had no way to defend herself. No claws were sheathed below the surface. He just wanted to protect Dusti and would do whatever it took to keep her safe.
Maybe that’s what Antina thought too.
He sighed. It was possible the female VampLycan believed she’d be there to deal with her father if he ever tried to take Bat. She would have been a fool, though, to assume she’d be able to prevent her daughter from being kidnapped. Decker never did his own dirty work. He always sent his enforcers to do it for him. She would have been outnumbered.
Maybe she had a spy within her clan who’d assured her Aveoth already had a lover. It’s possible she didn’t want to tell them unless she absolutely had to. Then she’d died before that happened, which left them in danger.
Word of Aveoth losing his lover had spread fast right after Lane’s death. The beautiful VampLycan from another clan had actually volunteered to share his bed. No one knew how Lane had died, but rumors spread that the GarLycan leader must have killed her in a fit of rage. Drantos didn’t believe it. He didn’t want to.
Lord Abotorus, Aveoth’s father, had been a full-blooded Gargoyle, and he never would have willingly allowed his son’s friendship to bloom with any VampLycans. Their clans might have had to forge an alliance but he hadn’t been happy about it. It was acceptable to take one as a lover but the old bastard had seemed to view them as servants. He tolerated Lycans since they needed them to have children. It was part of the deal though that they had to live in peace near the VampLycans. Old thinking made some of the Gargoyles wary of anyone with Vampire blood running in their veins.
The son had defied his father’s wishes by hanging out with Drantos and his brother. Aveoth would meet him and Kraven near the river that divided their clan lands. He smiled as memories of those times flashed. Aveoth could fly and it had fascinated them, seeing his large wings when he landed. He’d shown them what he looked like transformed into his solid Gargoyle shape and had even taken them for a few flights.
In return, they’d taught him how to use the Lycan traits his father demanded he ignore. They hunted in the woods, fished in the river, and shared their fighting skills. They’d mused about a future where Aveoth would strengthen the bonds between their clans once his father stepped down and he took his place. They wouldn’t have to meet in secret anymore, worried about Aveoth being punished if Lord Abotorus discovered who his son spent his time with. He and Kraven had grown to look upon Aveoth as if he were another brother. They’d been that close.
The warmth inside Drantos faded. Lord Abotorus hadn’t stepped down but instead had been challenged to the death by his own son. Aveoth had won. All those years they’d spent together seemed to have been a mockery when Aveoth cut all ties to the brothers. It had left him and Kraven confused and, worse, hurt. The boy they’d bonded with had grown into a man who’d turned his back on them. They hadn’t seen that coming.
Over sixty years had passed, and not a single word from Aveoth. No explanation or apology for just walking away from them. Kraven had wanted to travel to the cliffs the GarLycans called home to speak to him but Drantos had too much pride. He’d always talked him out of it. Aveoth obviously wanted nothing to do with them. They shouldn’t have to ask for his audience and admit he’d caused them grief. He was just another clan leader who shunned others.
Drantos hated to admit it, but in his mind, Aveoth had become somewhat like Decker.
Not that bad, he amended. Aveoth had never attacked any of the clans. He’d kept the alliances in place, his people sticking to their territory. He’d send one of his enforcers to share information if they knew of a threat in the area, and they did the same.
Decker, on the other hand, never gave warnings. They wouldn’t have known Decker had sent for two women from California if it weren’t for a few trusted spies in the VampLycan’s clan. The spy who’d told them about the women hadn’t had many details to share, not even their names, but he’d said Decker bragged to all that their arrival meant big changes were coming. That was never good.
Drantos and Kraven had volunteered to seek out and eliminate the threat. They hadn’t been sure what to expect. All that was certain was they weren’t Vampires. Decker hated Vamps and the flight was scheduled for daylight hours. Drantos had thought the women might be Lycan representatives, and Decker had planned to form an alliance with their packs, in order to attack the clans.
Antina had birthed two daughters with a human. It had been her responsibility to warn them of the truth of their heritage and to have prepared them for her father attempting to use them in the future. Decker’s reason for wanting Bat in Alaska couldn’t be mistaken.
He couldn’t blame Antina for avoiding Aveoth. It would have doomed her to never having a family or being loved. Aveoth had once been a good man. Things had changed in his late teens. He’d become a heartless, vicious leader who’d instilled wariness in VampLycans after his father’s death. He wasn’t as bad as Decker though. The GarLycans didn’t want war. They just believed in segregation of the clans.
He closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing. He’d listened closely to the details he’d learned of Dusti’s mother. She’d died before Dusti had reached maturity but Bat had been eighteen. The age of consent. Why didn’t she at least warn Bat?
It left a bunch of unanswered questions. He believed Bat was as naive as her younger sister, despite Kraven’s reservations. He didn’t think Bat would have willingly boarded that plane to walk into Decker’s world otherwise, especially with Dusti at her side. She wasn’t submissive or the type to take orders without question. Drantos had to assume their mother hadn’t said a word to either daughter.
He adjusted his hold on Dusti to make sure she slept comfortably. She could have died when they’d had to separate. Her human blood made her weak and vulnerable. He slid his fingertips down her arm and grasped her limp hand. It felt small in his. He ran his thumb over one of her fingernails. They were thin and delicate. She had no way to defend herself. No claws were sheathed below the surface. He just wanted to protect Dusti and would do whatever it took to keep her safe.
Maybe that’s what Antina thought too.
He sighed. It was possible the female VampLycan believed she’d be there to deal with her father if he ever tried to take Bat. She would have been a fool, though, to assume she’d be able to prevent her daughter from being kidnapped. Decker never did his own dirty work. He always sent his enforcers to do it for him. She would have been outnumbered.
Maybe she had a spy within her clan who’d assured her Aveoth already had a lover. It’s possible she didn’t want to tell them unless she absolutely had to. Then she’d died before that happened, which left them in danger.
Word of Aveoth losing his lover had spread fast right after Lane’s death. The beautiful VampLycan from another clan had actually volunteered to share his bed. No one knew how Lane had died, but rumors spread that the GarLycan leader must have killed her in a fit of rage. Drantos didn’t believe it. He didn’t want to.
Lord Abotorus, Aveoth’s father, had been a full-blooded Gargoyle, and he never would have willingly allowed his son’s friendship to bloom with any VampLycans. Their clans might have had to forge an alliance but he hadn’t been happy about it. It was acceptable to take one as a lover but the old bastard had seemed to view them as servants. He tolerated Lycans since they needed them to have children. It was part of the deal though that they had to live in peace near the VampLycans. Old thinking made some of the Gargoyles wary of anyone with Vampire blood running in their veins.
The son had defied his father’s wishes by hanging out with Drantos and his brother. Aveoth would meet him and Kraven near the river that divided their clan lands. He smiled as memories of those times flashed. Aveoth could fly and it had fascinated them, seeing his large wings when he landed. He’d shown them what he looked like transformed into his solid Gargoyle shape and had even taken them for a few flights.
In return, they’d taught him how to use the Lycan traits his father demanded he ignore. They hunted in the woods, fished in the river, and shared their fighting skills. They’d mused about a future where Aveoth would strengthen the bonds between their clans once his father stepped down and he took his place. They wouldn’t have to meet in secret anymore, worried about Aveoth being punished if Lord Abotorus discovered who his son spent his time with. He and Kraven had grown to look upon Aveoth as if he were another brother. They’d been that close.
The warmth inside Drantos faded. Lord Abotorus hadn’t stepped down but instead had been challenged to the death by his own son. Aveoth had won. All those years they’d spent together seemed to have been a mockery when Aveoth cut all ties to the brothers. It had left him and Kraven confused and, worse, hurt. The boy they’d bonded with had grown into a man who’d turned his back on them. They hadn’t seen that coming.
Over sixty years had passed, and not a single word from Aveoth. No explanation or apology for just walking away from them. Kraven had wanted to travel to the cliffs the GarLycans called home to speak to him but Drantos had too much pride. He’d always talked him out of it. Aveoth obviously wanted nothing to do with them. They shouldn’t have to ask for his audience and admit he’d caused them grief. He was just another clan leader who shunned others.
Drantos hated to admit it, but in his mind, Aveoth had become somewhat like Decker.
Not that bad, he amended. Aveoth had never attacked any of the clans. He’d kept the alliances in place, his people sticking to their territory. He’d send one of his enforcers to share information if they knew of a threat in the area, and they did the same.
Decker, on the other hand, never gave warnings. They wouldn’t have known Decker had sent for two women from California if it weren’t for a few trusted spies in the VampLycan’s clan. The spy who’d told them about the women hadn’t had many details to share, not even their names, but he’d said Decker bragged to all that their arrival meant big changes were coming. That was never good.
Drantos and Kraven had volunteered to seek out and eliminate the threat. They hadn’t been sure what to expect. All that was certain was they weren’t Vampires. Decker hated Vamps and the flight was scheduled for daylight hours. Drantos had thought the women might be Lycan representatives, and Decker had planned to form an alliance with their packs, in order to attack the clans.
