A Vampiric Love Story (manxman)

High Witch

Mark stared blankly at the cup of coffee he had brewed several hours ago that had long gone cold. He hadn't moved from his seat in the kitchen.

"Mladshiy brat..." Iosiph sat down next to his brother at the table, squeezing his brother's hand tightly.

Iosiph stayed next to his brother in silence for a long moment, seeing faint light coming through the window in the kitchen.

"Mark, perhaps we could see -"

"If I was a better leader they wouldn't have been taken," Mark whispered, voice scratchy and low, "if I was a better man Eric would have told me-"

"Don't. Don't you dare fucking start with me Markovnik!"

Iosiph's voice bellowed angrily, Mark's head snapping up in shock.

"A psychotic asshole kidnapped your mates and tortured them. You have nothing to do with that Mark so don't goddamn start," Iosiph stood up, muscular arms crossing over a corded chest.

"As to why your mate didn't say anything, maybe Riley knows. We could ask him instead of making up stupid shit that is clearly escalating and making you a mopey bolvan (idiot)."

Mark stood up angrily, crossing his arms to match his brother.

"Or maybe I'm right and you just won't admit it."

Iosiph scoffed at that, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

"I don't hold back truths from you Mark and you know it. I told you, you shouldn't have snapped at Eric before hearing him out, but I don't blame you for your reaction since his pregnancy was a surprise to all of us."

Mark glared hotly at his brother before sagging in exhaust.

"Come," Iosiph nudging his head towards the hospital wing of the mansion. Mark rubbed his face tiredly, the two walking into the open room that had Nick and Alex still unconscious.

Both froze immediately, seeing a short (very short) old woman with wrinkly skin, milky pale blue eyes, and white hair pulled into a small bun on top of her head. She was standing next to Nick's bed, frowning, her wrinkles exaggerating her sorrow.

Mark and Iosiph immediately unsheathed part of their swords, the sound of their blades echoing in the room, both of their hands stretched out to use their powers fast.

"That is no way to greet the elderly," the woman's voice was soft as silk and playful sounding. But when she looked up at them her eyes were sharp like glass.

Demanding, strong, powerful.

"It's not usually our... vera (creed), to welcome intruders," Iosiph's voice playful, eyes just as sharp.

"Good," the old woman smiled, Iosiph and Mark glancing at each other a moment.

"It makes me happy that your family is so close. That you've welcomed so many who are different from you with open arms," the old woman moving slowly around Nick's bed, the two men watching her warily.

"Who are you?" Iosiph asked tightly, the grip on his sword white knuckled. The old woman hummed for a moment, as if thinking, before smiling.

Mark was about to race over there and attack the four foot, seemingly a menace, old woman.

"Grandmother, are you already causing trouble?"

Iosiph and Mark snapped their heads towards the doorway that lead further into the east wing of the mansion.

Zayden stood with his arms crossed, John peeking around him curiously. You couldn't have separated the two if you tried.

"Me?" The old woman over exaggerating her movement before giggling like a school girl.