Apparently, Sean isn't the only one worrying about Dorian's presence in Desert pack.
When we reach the conference room not far from our wing in the labyrinthine sprawling packhouse, Silas stands at the door, physically blocking Dorian's entrance. "This isn't family business," Silas advises politely, but his voice rings with alpha compulsion and the glow of it flares behind his golden eyes. "We'll have a private dinner all together later. To give you time to properly introduce yourself and—."
"This is about Demons Tangle," Dorian interrupts, taking an aggressive stance in front of Silas as we approach. "I know what's happened there. I know you were out there. For pity's sake, Silas! I'm a goddamned marine biologist! I spent my childhood crawling all over those shores trailing after my mother in her life's work! Whatever you think is going on—whatever you brought them in for—," he jerks his chin towards the looming Ian standing just slightly off Silas' shoulder inside the conference room, fully prepared to prevent Dorian's entrance in the unlikely event that Silas should fail, "—I'm more qualified to help you than they are!"
Dorian's golden eyes fall upon Darby standing mutely inside the conference room. Under her inflexible green-gold gaze, for a few seconds, his self-assuredness fails him. Clearly, whatever else he is, he recognizes great power when he sees it. Then he whirls detecting our footfalls.
His brow furrows over troubled eyes for a brief second as he looks at me, then he locks gazes with Sean and takes a step forward into our path. "Sean," Dorian says softly, his head bowing slightly in deference as his long golden-brown lashes shield his eyes when he looks down, "I know we got off on the wrong foot, and I apologize whole-heartedly for that, but please, don't exclude me. Not from this. Let me prove my worth. Let me help."
For several long seconds, Sean stands stock-still, gazing at the downcast face of his half-brother emotionlessly. "Your Alpha has spoken," he replies firmly. "If you're going to be part of Desert pack, then abide his command. If and when he determines your skills are needed, then he'll request them. This is the way of the Were."
Taking my hand firmly in his, my mate side-steps around Dorian and leads the way into the conference room.
Behind us, Silas addresses his mate and the Desert pack Luna. "Kallie, would you and Kasey see to it that Dorian is kept company until dinner, please? We'll adjourn here as rapidly as we can."
The comely blonde smiles, resting a hand over the growing bulge in her stomach—her fourth baby with her alpha mate. "Of course." Surprisingly, her eyes flick to me, then look me up and down in a purely disdainful sweep. "Perhaps you'd like to join us? It might do you some good to get to know your brother-in-law."
"I'm afraid Sandy's needed here, honey," Silas says gently, clearly remembering the intense moment between Dorian and me when we arrived and the impact it had on Sean. Wrapping an arm around behind her, he urges her towards the conference room door with a gigantic paw in the small of her back, then kisses her cheek. "We'll catch up with you in just a bit."
Sean guides me to a chair at the circular conference table where Darby stands near Ian on one side and the Second triumvir of Desert—Ivan.
He clasps my hand under the table as the rest of the group take seats.
Sean chuckles warmly through the link between us.
"After we spoke on the teleconference, I had Ivan pull the information you suggested might be relevant," Silas begins when we're all seated. Taking a tiny stack of neatly bound notebooks from the center of the table he distributes one to each of us—Ian, Darby, Ivan, Sean and me. "Seems initially, there might have been some truth to your suggestion that human males in the settlements off Demons Tangle were targeted."
Releasing my hand, Sean pecks a passing kiss on my cheek, then opens his binder and starts sorting through it.
he laughs.