Aveoth’s skin seemed to harden more, darkening to a dull gray. “No. You believe he still plots a war?”

“I’m certain of it.” Drantos hesitated. “We still get a few families every so often seeking asylum from Decker. He murders his own clan members who show stronger Vampire traits. He also deems any younger siblings a loss, assuming they will mature and become the same. He’s beheaded toddlers and babies.”

Aveoth narrowed his eyes. “You’re certain this is true?”

“Yes. We’ll give you access to speak to the survivors and witnesses if you find it as horrifying as we do.”

Aveoth said nothing. Dusti felt horrified too, even if the man turning to stone in front of her didn’t. Her grandfather was way worse than anything she’d ever imagined.

Dusti was in his arms but Drantos didn’t feel as if she were safe yet. Aveoth was a danger to her. The GarLycan leader had changed a lot over the years. He’d grown bigger, stronger, and fierce. Traces of the young man he’d once been where there too, faint as they may be.

“What happened to you?” Drantos stared at Aveoth, hoping for an answer. “Why?” He didn’t need to say more. They both knew what he asked. They’d been best friends once, close as brothers. Then Aveoth had shut him out of his life.

Aveoth regarded him for a long moment, only his eyes revealing any emotion. The silver in his gaze turned blue. “Our childhood ended and my responsibilities began. It was best if we didn’t speak any longer. I have earned enemies. It would have put you in danger, being my friend.”

“From who? I heard about your father. I know he wouldn’t have approved of us spending time together.”

Aveoth’s gaze grew brighter blue. “You mean you learned that I challenged and killed him.” He inclined his head.

Drantos couldn’t comprehend how anyone could do that. He and his father had plenty of disagreements but he’d never attack him or take his life. Especially to take control of the clan.

Aveoth’s eyes lightened, the silver bleeding through. “Don’t look at me like that, Drantos. Lord Abotorus and Decker Filmore are of the same ruling mindset. Cruelty and fear are what kept or keeps them in power.” He glanced at Dusti, then back at him. “They both believed their children were acceptable pawns to use in a political game. I no longer wished to be a part of my father’s.”

“I’m sorry.” The meaning behind the words Aveoth had spoken was grim. There had clearly been no love between father and son.

“I have the same problem with some of the full-blooded Gargoyles that I had with Lord Abotorus. They feel the mixing of bloodlines has weakened our clan. They fear I’ll be too lenient with VampLycans because of our shared Lycan blood.”

“I think Craig would disagree if he still had a head to talk with,” Dusti muttered.

“Quiet,” Drantos whispered.

“Now Decker wishes to try to use me for his own political gain.” Aveoth’s irises turned almost white. “And I still don’t want to be used. I have no desire to go to war with VampLycans, Drantos. I like the peace.” His tone deepened, his anger clear. “You are not my enemy.”

“I do miss my friend,” he admitted.

Aveoth broke eye contact and turned, putting some space between them. Drantos thought he’d leave but the other man paused, glancing over his shoulder at him. “I wish you and Kraven well. I have fond memories but times have changed. A close association with you would be seen as a weakness. I can’t permit that.” He slowly turned his body to face them once more. “Tell Kraven I have no interest in Batina.”

Drantos relaxed. “Thank you.” His relief upon realizing Aveoth wouldn’t go after Bat, that Kraven wouldn’t have to fight to the death to save his mate, was immeasurable.

Aveoth inclined his head and actually smiled. “I’d like to keep my balls exactly where they are and not inside a box in some woman’s purse.” He glanced at Dusti, then back at Drantos. “Protect your mate better.”

“It’s been a bad few days.”

“We were in a plane crash,” Dusti added.

Aveoth looked surprised, staring at Drantos for confirmation. “A plane crash?”

He nodded. “I don’t have your wings. I wished I did when we were about to slam into the ground. All Kraven and I could do was wrap our bodies around them and hope it would be enough. We’ve been trying to get them to our territory ever since but Decker sent enforcers to attack us while we were vulnerable.”

“I’ll handle Decker.” Aveoth’s tone took on an icy edge. “He’s attempted to blackmail me for the last time. I know you have your own reasons to go after him but again, it will be considered justice when I kill him.”

Drantos had no argument with that. “I just want the threat to end.”

“I agree.” Aveoth glanced at Dusti again and his smile returned. “I like her.”

Drantos tensed, prepared once more to fight to keep Dusti.

Aveoth didn’t attack, but said instead, “Listen to me well, Drantos.”

He expected a threat.

“I’m giving you the gift of knowledge. Old Vampire masters keep their made children in the dark in more ways than one. They don’t share their secrets, believing the fear of the unknown will help them stay in power over their nests.” He paused. “Lycans tend to send their young and females of breeding age to safety when they face a battle. That means their elderly are often killed when they remain behind to fight, so much of their history is lost.” He paused. “Gargoyles, however, are record keepers—and we have thousands of years of knowledge written down, everything we’ve learned from both races.”

Drantos frowned, not sure how this was relevant to him.

Aveoth chuckled, seeming to sense his confusion. “VampLycans are children compared to some of my ancestors. I spent many a year in our libraries reading.” His expression turned grim. “I didn’t have a happy childhood, but my time spent amongst the records was helpful.” He paused again and glanced at Dusti, then Drantos. “All the reasons your father might fear you mating to her wouldn’t be a problem…if you were to share your blood with her generously while she carries your line. Do you understand?”

“You’re saying my blood will—”