AN 10/04/15: Within the story, the next few days are going to have a lot going on. I know you're used to lengthier chapters, but I've thought it over and think the best way to proceed is with shorter chapters until we get over this bump of conflict. There's just going to be a lot of characters and locations involved and I was afraid of it becoming too much or too choppy for single chapters. - DC

Chapter Twenty-Five

Olive found herself quite unable to tear her eyes from the man approaching their table. That smirk he'd given her from the bar reminded her of her husband's cruelty and caused a shiver to run up her spine. Dreagan was saying something to her, but it went unheard. It was the strangest thing, like she couldn't look away from the approaching man if she tried. Olive caught the scent of the stranger, similar to Dreagan's, but different. It didn't have as strong a hold over her as Oliver's had, but she would be lying to say it didn't make her press her thighs together under the table.

He had to be some relation to Dreagan. If he wasn't, the resemblance bordered on eerie. The two shared the same straight nose and dark eyes. Both had that dark, coarse hair that trailed past their shoulders, though the stranger's was as straight as could be, not a single wave or kink as her husband's had. The man was every bit as tall as Dreagan, perhaps slightly taller, and stood with an air of pride – he was well-manicured, his head held high, his shoulders square in a rare display of impeccable posture.

Dreagan repeated himself and she saw him, from the corner of her eye, look up to see why she was silent. When the strange man saw this, saw her inability to look away, he smirked and offered her a wink. He'd drawn close then and Dreagan, scowling at the blush that crept up Olive's neck, turned to see what she could possibly be looking at.

"Baby brother," the strange man said, tearing his eyes away from Olive to look at her husband. She took the moment to compare the two, seeing minute differences, but not enough to deny blood-ties. Then she recalled Dreagan saying his strip of discolored hair was due to his brother throwing an ashtray at him. Was this the brother? Or was there another?

Dreagan looked his brother over and then turned away in a lazy fashion. "Bastian," he said, almost dismissively. "What do you want?" Instead of turning to acknowledge his brother, Dreagan was glaring at Olive, for what she assumed was the blush which had crept up her neck. She fidgeted in the seat and looked down at her stew. It wasn't as though she was blushing because she found the man attractive – which she did. It was that he'd caught her staring and offered a wink as Dreagan sat oblivious, as if the two shared some secret.

"We have problems," Bastian said in a serious tone, pulling out the chair between the two and taking a seat. When he sat, his leg brushed against Olive's and she pulled her legs tighter under her chair. She watched the man's mouth quiver, as if he were trying not to smile.

"If it's your problem, it's not my problem," Dreagan said sourly, not bothering to look up at either of them. Instead he took a long drink, eyes glued on his sandwich.

Bastian arched an eyebrow and Olive noted the tension in his jaw, prompting her to shy away a few inches. Dreagan's jaw grew tight when he was cross with her, but his face never grew red. The similarities were frightening. "Greyback took Mira," he said, voice even in the most frightening way. Chill bumps ran across Olive's arms at the unexpected mention of the werewolf.

Dreagan grew still for a moment, then huffed some sort of dark half-laugh and shook his head. "Not my problem," he repeated, taking another long drink. His eyes met his wife's for a split second and she saw some tense emotion before his gaze darted toward Bastian.

"Actually," his brother said. "It's all your fault and you know it. Mum won't stop fuckin' squawking over Mira, she's drivin' me insane. Gaspar is furious and preaching his Order bullshit. I'm not leavin' your side until you fix this mess."

Olive felt overwhelmed, not sure who all these people were he was speaking about. What was going on that was Dreagan's fault? Did this have to do with him being on edge the day before? Or the thirty people they had to capture? Curiosity burned inside her.

"Well, sorry to tell you," Dreagan said, matching his brother's gaze with an equally tense jaw, "Olive and I were just leaving on holiday after dinner."

Bastian took a moment to look his younger brother over, then offered a mocking laugh. His eyes slid to Olive and he appraised her. "You sure do take care of this one," he said, a note of darkness in his tone. Olive once again found herself unable to look away. He and Dreagan's faces were similar in the most eerie way, but there was a different sort of darkness in his eyes. "That's a first. Something tells me she wouldn't be around if she knew what happened last ti-"

"Shut it," Dreagan said, eyes bordering on crazed. Olive looked between her husband and brother-in-law, the latter not bothering to take his eyes from her, and didn't like the way her stomach twisted with anxiety.

Instead of answering him, Bastian stuck his hand toward her, hanging in the space between them. Olive debated – what did he mean by last time? She wasn't even sure what questions she had, but she felt perhaps Bastian had some of the answers. Her hand reached out and took his – warm and, unlike her husband's, smooth. The shake on both parts was firm and, once they dropped their hands, they were left with the heated glare of Dreagan.

"I'm sorry," Bastian said, eyes drifting down to her stomach for a moment. The way he said it implied that he wasn't sorry at all and, rather, found her pregnancy amusing. "He's done much worse. You're a pretty girl – at least he didn't mess your face up too bad."

The scenario was growing more uncomfortable by the second and Olive looked to her husband for help. His eyes were livid – primal and possessive – but his expression was otherwise calm. "Tell me what you want and leave," Dreagan said in a rough tone, gripping his cup hard enough that his knuckles were beginning to grow white.

Finally Bastian drew a breath and Olive was free of his gaze. Try as she might, she couldn't help the huff of air that fled her lips. Across the table, Dreagan's expression further tightened. Next to her, a smile twitched on the corner of Bastian's lips. Neither acknowledged her small gasp, though it was apparent they both observed it.

"As I said, brother," Bastian started, leaning back in his chair with rod-like posture, "Greyback has Mira. Mum and Gaspar are driving me mad. Take care of it."

The brothers were locked in a stare down. Olive was resisting the urge to squirm in her seat. The baby also seemed to be feeling the need, as it wriggled inside her. For a moment the brothers were lost – it was the first time she properly felt the baby move and the experience tore her mind from the tense dinner table. She laid a gentle hand on her stomach, as if to sooth the child, and looked back up to the others.

Dreagan tipped his head back and emptied the remnants of his drink. The glass made a loud clang when he sat it back on the table, but he seemed unaware. Olive watched her husband's eyes go faraway, deep in thought. She could see him push his tongue against the inside of his cheek, as if that small action would provide an answer. Finally, he drew a deep breath and, though he still looked unhappy, she noted his jaw looked less tense. With an exhausted look, he rubbed the side of his face with an open palm as if coaxing the words to form. "Not here," he said, shooting his brother a dark look. "And not in front of Olive."

That grated something deep inside her and she snapped her jaw shut, giving him a dirty look. Bastian looked between the two of them and nodded, but an amused smirk played on his lips. "To Mum's, then?" he asked, eyes shining like he was telling a great joke.

"Fine," Dreagan said with a shrug, resigned to just get it all over with and get on with his life.

Bastian's smile widened and Olive grew stiff when he laid his hand on the back of her neck. "Hope you don't mind," he said to his brother. "Just so I know you'll actually show up."

Dreagan opened his mouth to protest, eyes betraying his anger, but not a single word was heard to Olive as she was already spinning away, pushed tight against Bastian and clutching onto him for fear of being Splinched.