They swung open the cage door, cattle prods at full power, humming with electricity. The man lazily lifted his hands in surrender. "Now, now." He said softly. His voice was like velvet. "No need. I'll do as you please." The man in the cage said, his...
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Every steaming breath conjured images of Bjorn's rage filled face as he came to realize he was trapped. The chill burned Dime's lungs, but it was nothing compared to the burning in his heart.
The guns were light in his arms. He felt as if he could crush them in his grip, but when he reached for his strength, the agony, though lesser, roared back into his bones. He cursed aloud, hating the time recovery was taking him. That hate fueled his every movement as he stomped to his quarters within the Morozov mansion.
No one appeared in the dimly lit halls, and the only watchful eyes were those of the stone and marble statues that lay perpetually in the throws of desperation that they were sculpted into. The level of pain depicted in their cold bodies only encouraged his emotive state.
He slammed the door to his room behind him, and paced back and forth for a few turns before he could bear to let go of the items he'd collected. A few more turns, and he was ready to sit and analyze his findings.
With gritted teeth, he set to it like a hound on a trail.
It took him two hours to properly swab and analyze them all. He searched and searched for any sign that they'd been fired- any unburnt gunpowder or the tiny chips of metal that would typically spring from the barrel of a gun.
He found none.
It only relit his anger. None of the locals were willing to help, and yet, it must have been one of them. Perhaps that was why they had refused. It was an admission of guilt. That thought made his blood boil.
So he did the only thing he could think to do; confide in those who had his back.
Vsevolod was seldom in his personal room, so Dime elected to march right on past it. The man was too hard working to be caught in bed. Sometimes, Dime wondered if he ever slept at all.
He rounded the corner, eyes locking onto that thick mahogany door that hid the office beyond. A shock of red out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.
Ivan.
Dime's brows twisted, his mouth turning down into a frown. The redhead was approaching from Kiril's personal quarters, and while there was nothing to explicitly state that he couldn't be within the mansion, it was an odd sight.
As the man drew closer, he was certain that he was just going to bypass him in the wide hall, but he veered closer with a hesitant, almost scared look at the office door. Ivan's steps faltered, his face going pale, and then a faintly green color. Dime cocked his head, questioning.
But before he could open his mouth, Ivan resumed his death march. Dime took a step back as the man stepped in front of him, but he was followed. Ivans tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, and he cast a skeptical glance up at Dime.
For a split second as the man leaned in, Dime thought that Ivan meant to kiss him.
But the man continued past Dime's mouth, stretching as he pulled Dime into a friendly hug, until his lips were brushing against Dime's ear.
"War is coming. Be ready to escape."
It was the quietest of whispers, but he knew it had been said because he felt Ivans copper smelling breath tickling his earlobe. A tingling sensation coursed through his body from the delicate touch.
Then, Ivan was drawing away. He didn't spare Dime another glance as he hastily marched down the hallway and turned the corner that led to the main staircase.
Only in the following moments of silence did he really process what had been said.
The shock hit him first. He was Vsevolod's ward- a warning of war should have come from him first. And then the bewilderment struck. How could there be war? No one was around to make it.
He tapped into his pack bond; a straining thing, as it had been severely weakened with the diminishment of his wolf, and searched the many mind threads until he found Ivan's woven securely around the brick wall that Kiril had built around his own thoughts.
Dime wouldn't have noticed it had he not been looking- the presence of his fellows were almost entirely silent and unfelt compared to that of his alpha's. And yet, he did notice it. Those bricks that Kiril so securely fashioned around himself had been subtly extended.
Poking and prodding and pushing yielded him no ground. Ivan's mind was sealed to him, but so subtly that no one would notice if they didn't go looking. Perhaps to everyone, as Kiril's was.
A muffled noise made him nearly jump out of his skin.
As his mind crashed back into his own body, he looked back to the door, to his original objective. The noise was a mad cackle, and something crashed to the ground.
He didn't know what overcame him in that moment, but instead of barging in to confront the potential danger within, he slowly cracked the door. The sounds became clear.
"The winter solstice is our opportunity to reclaim what was taken. We must not let it pass us by again."
Another cackle, though this time he knew who it was. Mitroshka.
"We won't. Taking is what we're good at." The tone was deranged.
A sharp intake of breath and the room fell silent. Dime internally cursed himself for being so dense- he still smelled strongly of blood. Something they most certainly would've picked up on as the air around him circulated into the warm room.
To salvage the situation, he pushed open the door completely, as if he had just opened it. Vsevolod was staring at him already, those piercing eyes trying to decipher the trickery in the action. Mitroshka had his fingertip against the point of a dagger, twirling it thoughtlessly as he reclined in one of the chairs before the desk.
Dime looked to his feet, even as he felt Vsev's eyes raking over him. A moment passed, and then Vsev cleared his throat. "Let us not waste anymore time, brother. You understand the objective. Go now and succeed."
He didn't look up from the floor until Mitroshka, stinking of rot, had passed him and shut the door firmly behind him. Vsevolod's eyes were back on him, chilling Dime to the bone.
And then the frigid look was gone, replaced with a warm smile that made him notice something else.
There was a cut across Vsev's face. It sliced from the crown of his brow to the crest of his cheek, slicing right over his eye. The sight made him shudder, though he didn't quite know why.
Maybe war was coming after all, for someone to have attacked their alpha.
"Your visit is fantastic timing," Vsev said, breaking his train of thought and leaving it to wither. "I have a surprise for you."
Dime arched a blonde brow and stepped further into the room, curiosity overpowering his initial desire for accusations. "What is it?" he said, all skepticism.
"Your sister. She's healthy enough, and ready to see you."
His face stretched as his eyes widened, and he immediately strode forward and placed his hands on the desk. "Is she ok?"
Vsev nodded as he too stood. "Better than that. We are going to pay her a visit."
Dime's heart fluttered in his chest, and he breathed a sigh of relief. His shoulders felt lighter with the burden of his sister's potential death now cast off. He was going to see her again. She would forgive him, and they would be a proper family all together.
Vsev smiled at him, his eyes glinting in the dim lighting.
And Dime, despite his joy, felt his stomach sinking.
