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He had given the report a quick once over but didn't see anything that he hadn't expected but it did give him a picture of Skye's grandmother. She was the same woman who was present in his dreams, the woman he focused upon when separating himself from reality. She gave him peace and happiness or rather her memory gave him peace and happiness.
He regretted putting the research department on the case, but nothing could be done about that now. He would attempt to keep quiet as much as he could, along with Skye's medical record. He needed to protect Skye.
Dante used a subtle glamour to subdue the doctor and remove Skye's information. The doctor was not harmed, simply distracted, and was left without any memory of treating Skye. He went on about his business, and Dante returned to the examination room.
Upon entering, the realization that Skye had escaped through the window became clear and obvious. He wouldn't get far Dante could easily follow his sweet honeysuckle scent it was like a beacon. He notified the guards on the grounds to be watchful but not to stop him or interfere.
Dante would find his beloved and bring him back. He dropped down from the window and headed off in the direction of the fruit tree garden. His scent was sweet and pungent upon the air and made stronger by his physical exertion.
He was getting notifications letting him know where he was and where he was headed. The escape attempt was not unexpected but was certainly desperate since he had very little time to get out the window and go any distance. He needed to try and Dante could respect that and although he could not let him go Dante wished that he could give him some freedom or a sense of security. Fear and uncertainty were ruling Skye’s decision making and that was not going to work out well for him.
He noticed Skye was beginning to slow his steps were becoming staggered and off balance, but he kept pushing. The man did not want to give up. Worried that he was going to do himself harm, Dante moved around him to come at him from the front. Few species were faster than vampires, a fact which Skye was apparently unaware.
“Skye.” He said when Skye was about to run into him but stopped short and nearly fell to the ground. He managed to stay on his feet but just barely he was exhausted. “You’re safe with me Skye you don’t have to run.” He urged and took a step toward him. Skye raised his hand as if signaling him to stop so he did.
"Vampires kill; that's all they do. They don't take prisoners, and they don't make exceptions. I'm going to be killed; I know that is my ultimate outcome. You've got all the information that I have, and Ezra is not going to save me.” He took a ragged breath. “I'm so tired." He said, dropping to his knees. Dante instantly went to him.
"No one is going to kill you, my love." Dante took him by the shoulders, and Skye leaned against his grip.
“I’m not your love.” The tone was raspy and weak.
“You are.” Dante helped him to his feet and held him with an arm around his shoulders. “You are my love.”
"I am so tired." The day had taken its toll on him, and his strength was draining away. Dante picked him up and held him snugly in his arms, pressing him to his chest and feeling his resolve dissipate. His beloved was giving up.
"Don't give up, my love. Our lives are about to get interesting, and you wouldn't want to miss it." He said, placing a soft kiss on Skye's forehead. "Relax, I've got you." Skye let out a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. He knew that part of his submission was due to the bond that was forming between them, but he believed there was more to it since Skye's resistance had been so complete and unmovable until now. He believed that trust beyond that put forth by the pull was growing strong between them.
He went to one of the small chalets that had been built on the edge of the hedge garden. They were used for visitors and for members seeking a peaceful get away. He contacted the Palace and let them know the chalet he was using and that he and his beloved Skye would be residing there for a few days.
"Did you call me your beloved?" Skye was groggy, but his words were clear. He tried to open his eyes, but it was too much effort. It was unlikely that he would remember much until he had a good rest, so Dante kept his response short.
“Yes.” He said it clear and concise. Skye struggled to open his eyes but failed. He muttered something that sounded like ‘impossible’, but Dante was not sure. He entered the chalet and went straight to the main bedroom on the second floor. These buildings were always kept clean and prepared and for that Dante was thankful.
After laying Skye on top of the thick comforter and making sure he was comfortable, Dante got a basin of warm, soapy water and a soft cloth and cleaned his scratched and bloody feet. Running through the garden barefoot was not a good idea, but Skye did what he believed he needed to do. Dante carefully cleaned each foot and then treated the wounds with the same salve the doctor gave him for his other wounds.
His poor beloved was in such a state, and Dante wished that Fate had brought them together sooner before Skye had to endure so much and suffer such indignation. He called for a change of clothes for his beloved and to have the kitchen stocked. When he woke, he would be hungry, and Dante wanted to provide for him. He regretted taking so long to accept that Skye was the innocent man that he presented himself to be. He regretted not claiming him as soon as he recognized their connection.
Dante dimmed the lights and covered him with a soft blanket, and kissed his lips, feeling the tender flesh warm and welcoming. Skye was asleep but he returned the kiss ever so gently and reached for Dante and it was the satisfying moment of his life. Nothing had ever felt this good and this right.
He’d lived his life in a certain way, never getting too close to anyone, keeping friends at a distance emotionally never letting anyone or anything matter too much apart from his Master and his Coven in general not in specifics. In other words, he valued the totality of the Coven but never lost sight of the belief that individuals were expendable in the defense of the whole. It's the life and mindset of a soldier.
He lifted Skye's hand, pressed his lips to knuckles, and took a small taste. It would push their bond further and allow him to know his beloved's movements and allow him a clearer understanding of his thoughts and emotions. The taste was light and sweet and yet so full and rejuvenating, so different from any blood he'd ever tasted.
The desire for more was immediate, but he cared so deeply for this vulnerable human that he would never stoop so low as to take advantage of him. He licked the wound closed and kissed the tiny scar before tucking Skye's hand back under the covers.
Once downstairs he went into the kitchen and poured himself a shot of whiskey and took a seat in the sitting room off the stairs so he would hear if his beloved woke and started moving around. There was a quick knock on his door and then Graves stepped inside to then join him in the sitting room.
“Why didn’t you tell me he was your beloved?” He asked after pouring himself a whiskey and taking a seat across from Dante.
“Wasn’t sure what I was dealing with and wanted a clearer head to speak with him. I should have trusted my instincts and Fate.” Dante replied thoughtfully.
“How is he?”
“The doctor believes he is well and will heal soon.”
“You don’t believe that?”
"He's had years of forced captivity and abuse by magic. I don't think his condition can be summed up so casually." Dante felt the pang of fury course through him at the thought of what Skye had been through.
