Haven 5

Invincible

Aslan is used to everyone considering him to be flighty, clueless,
and confused. That doesn’t mean it’s true, but the constant

cacophony of voices inside his head makes it kind of hard to pay
attention to anything else around him.

Torren Braddock has his hands full as a new elder, trying to clean
up the mess the former Council members left for him. Adding a

mate to his agenda is the last thing he wants to do, but he can’t
deny the way Aslan draws him in like a moth to a flame.

Torren is meant to be his champion, his protector. Aslan is sure of
it. When the voices in his head grow louder and more demanding,
he realizes something big is coming, something that has the

potential to destroy everything—and he’ll need his new mate at
his side if he hopes to survive it.

Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Paranormal,
Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 44,149 words

INVINCIBLE

Haven 5

Gabrielle Evans

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MANLOVE

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INVINCIBLE
Copyright © 2012 by Gabrielle Evans
E-book ISBN: 1-61926-371-8

First E-book Publication: February 2012

Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

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INVINCIBLE

Haven 5

GABRIELLE EVANS

Copyright © 2012

Prologue

How the hell he’d gotten himself into his current situation, Torren

Braddock couldn’t recall. The last thing he remembered was stepping
off the plane at the landing strip just outside of Las Vegas. Jonas and
Nicholas had been on the plane growling at each other, which was
nothing new, and Torren had needed some air.

The minute his boots made contact with the tarmac, everything

went dark. He’d woken several times, each time feeling worse than
the previous one. What the hell was wrong with him? His head
throbbed, his mouth felt sticky, and he couldn’t move his arms or
legs.

The world was blurry and unfocused through his half-lidded eyes,

but he was pretty certain he was in a cemetery. The sun beat down on
him, warming his face, but Torren felt there was a reason he should be
concerned about the sun. He just couldn’t remember what that reason
was.

His thought process was disjointed as though he was wading

through miles of mental sludge. There was someone beside him, but
he couldn’t make his neck muscles work so he could turn his head to
find out who it was. There had been three people with him on that

8 Gabrielle

Evans

plane. Four, if he counted the pilot. Five, after Bannon Murphy met
them with the vehicle.

If it was one of those five who rested beside him, he hoped it was

Bannon. Not that he wished the shifter any harm, but he’d just
remembered why the sun was bad. He was traveling with vampires.
So, that meant if it was Bannon beside him, they were completely
screwed until the moon rose. Fantastic.

With a lot of effort, Torren finally forced his head to turn,

unsurprised to see Bannon tied to the tombstone he was propped up
against. Where were the others, though? Since his companion
appeared to be unconscious with his chin resting firmly on his chest,
Torren wouldn’t be getting any answers from him.

Giving up, he closed his eyes, and drifted out of consciousness

again. The next time he awoke, the cemetery was dark, cold, and
eerily quiet.

“Ah, you’re awake.”
Torren didn’t have the strength to turn his head and face the voice.

“Where?” he croaked. The one word sounded slurred, harsh, and
raspy.

“Oh, your little vampire friends?” the man asked with amusement.

“Not to worry. They’re safe for now and will be joining us soon
enough. You should just rest for now.”

Someone crouched down in his line of vision, but Torren couldn’t

focus and the night was too dark to make out any discernible features.
Something stuck his arm, right in the crook of his elbow, and then
everything went dark again.

* * * *

Something had awoken him. He was sure of it, but he couldn’t

figure out what had disturbed his sleep. Sitting up in bed, Aslan
rubbed at his eyes and pushed his hair back from his face.

“Who are you?”

Invincible 9

Snapping his eyes open, Aslan’s breath caught in his throat, and

he scrambled backward, pressing himself against the headboard. A
man he’d never met before stood beside his bed, towering over him
with a frown. His long, black hair fell over his shoulders, his clothes
appeared dirty and ripped, and he was so massive that Aslan was
pretty sure the guy’s muscles had muscles.

Shaking his head rapidly, he pulled his knees to his chest and

wrapped his arms around his shins. It wasn’t the stranger’s enormous
size that scared the hell out of him. It was the fact that he could see
right through him to his door across the room. There was a kind of
bluish glow about him that reminded Aslan of starlight, but it wasn’t
nearly as peaceful.

“Who are you?” the guy repeated.
“Aslan,” he squeaked.
“Aslan, I need your help.” The man was all business now as he

began pacing the floor, linking his hands behind his back. “We are in
a cemetery in Nevada. I don’t think we are far from the airstrip or the
plane, but I can’t be sure. I need you to tell Stavion to send someone.”
He stopped pacing and crossed his arms over his chest when Aslan
didn’t answer. “Do you understand?”

No, he didn’t understand any of this. All he knew was that there

was an angry ghost in his room going on about cemeteries and saying
he needed help. “Who’s with you?” he whispered, his voice quivering
slightly.

“There’s no time. You have to go to Stavion now. Get out of bed

and go, Aslan.” He took a step forward, reaching out as though to
touch him, and Aslan reacted accordingly.

He squeezed his eyes closed, wrapped his arms over his head, and

screamed until he thought his throat would bleed. When he finally
managed to get himself under control, the ghost was gone.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Throwing the blankets back, he launched himself

out of bed, darted for the door, and barreled out into the hall. Scared,
shaking, and feeling like he was going to vomit, he didn’t

10 Gabrielle

Evans

immediately see Galen until he smacked right into his friend. “I saw a
ghost,” Aslan blurted at once.

“Well, I saw Bannon,” Galen countered.
They stared at each other for just a moment before both speaking

again at the same time. “They’re in trouble.”

Invincible 11

Chapter One

“We have twenty-seven days until Halloween. On average, it

takes you approximately two weeks to find one person. We’re looking
for three. Do you think this is a goddamn game?” Torren yelled the
last question, slamming his fist against the doorframe of the entrance
to Bannon’s bedroom.

He needed to find his brothers, and Bannon Murphy was the best

candidate to help him. The man’s resistant attitude was grating on his
nerves, though. As the newly appointed elder of the Magiks, Torren
was by all rights Bannon’s boss. Finding Torren’s brothers and the
missing faerie, Camdin Maywater, was Bannon’s job. Why was he
being such an asshole about everything?

“Enough,” Bannon growled angrily. His attention turned to the

smaller man on the bed, and he crawled up the mattress to pull his
mate into his arms. “Not to worry, darlin’. Torren is just a bit out of
sorts. No one is going to hurt ya.”

Torren felt about three inches tall as he let out a deep breath and

dropped his head. He hadn’t meant to scare Galen. He just wanted to
find his family, and to do that, he needed Bannon’s cooperation. With
such little time left, he really needed Galen’s special skills as well. If
they combined their powers, the pair would be unstoppable.

Still, that didn’t excuse his behavior. “He’s right. I’m sorry,

Galen. This elder business is a lot more stressful than I thought it
would be.” Gods, that was an understatement. Why had he thought he
was cut out for this? “Add my personal issues on top of that, and I’m
not really myself these days. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

12 Gabrielle

Evans

“Galen? Are you okay?” a small voice asked from behind Torren.

“I heard shouting and banging. You’re not hurt are you?”

Turning slowly, Torren watched as a young man even smaller

than Galen slid past him and crawled up on the bed beside Bannon.
He tucked his legs under him while he talked to his friend, and Torren
couldn’t help but follow his every movement.

That was Aslan. He vaguely recognized him from the night he’d

sought help while being imprisoned in Nevada. Up until that moment,
he hadn’t been able to work out why his astral body had appeared to
the guy, but he had no problem understanding it now.

Aslan was his mate. He felt it as sure as he felt his own heart

beating. His skin tingled, his hands began to shake, and it was as
though a thousand tiny explosions were detonating inside his body.
The only person besides his family that he’d have a close enough
connection with to travel outside of his body to deliver a message to
was his mate.

Since he didn’t know where his brothers were hiding, and was

afraid of causing them harm if he could reach them, Torren had been
trying to send a message to Stavion instead. He’d been very shocked
to find himself in Aslan’s bedroom, staring down at the most
gorgeous creature he’d ever seen.

Silky, black curls that brushed just below his jaw showcased the

long, slender column on his neck. While he was small, probably no
more than five-four or five-five, his muscles were defined—long,
lean, bunching in just the right places as he moved.

Then as if in slow motion, he turned his head, pinning Torren with

big, round eyes the color of melted milk chocolate. “You’re being
very rude,” he chastised. His voice was quiet, soft, almost musical,
and Torren found himself unable to answer for a second.

“I apologize. Did I frighten you?” He didn’t want Aslan to be

afraid of him. In just the two minutes since the man had entered the
room, Torren already felt an overwhelming need to protect him and
keep him safe.

Invincible 13

“A little,” Aslan admitted but shrugged. “I was mostly worried

about Galen. You’re my mate, right? I’ve seen you before, but you
were more glowy and see-through. I like you better this way.” He
tilted his head to the side and grinned innocently.

“Thank you?” Torren wasn’t sure, but he thought he’d been

complimented.

“Oh, you’re very welcome. If we’re mates, why haven’t you come

to see me? Don’t you like me?”

What a strange question. The underlying hurt in Aslan’s cheery

voice was unacceptable, however. He should never feel sad or
unwanted. “I’m afraid I don’t know you at all. I’d like to change that,
though.” Torren would like to get to know him on several flat
surfaces, but he figured he should probably keep that little thought to
himself for the time being.

“Okay.” Aslan bobbed his head, stood to his feet on the mattress,

and jumped at Torren. Shocked at the man’s behavior, Torren reacted
on instinct, catching his mate and holding him protectively to his
chest. “Let’s go to my room,” Aslan suggested.

Completely entranced by the little imp, Torren just nodded

dazedly and followed his mate’s directions as he walked them across
the hall and into Aslan’s room. He wasn’t sure how they made it there
safely because he couldn’t take his eyes off of those perfectly shaped,
pale lips.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Aslan warned before jerking him

forward and crushing their mouths together.

Torren had never met anyone as bold and forward as Aslan. It was

refreshing, if a bit disconcerting. When he parted his lips to allow
Aslan entrance and their tongues brushed together for the first time,
Torren forgot to think about anything but devouring the man in his
arms.

Kissing Aslan should have been an Olympic sport. The guy was

everywhere and everywhere in hurry. His hands moved frantically
over Torren’s shoulders and chest, and his hips thrust in jerky

14 Gabrielle

Evans

movements. He sucked on Torren’s tongue, bit his bottom lip, and
growled fiercely when Torren didn’t respond with equal exuberance.

“Why won’t you kiss me back?” he demanded breathlessly a

moment later.

“I’m trying,” Torren growled back. How was he supposed to kiss

the man properly when he wouldn’t be still?

“Am I doing it wrong?” Aslan whispered, ducking his head and

peeking up at Torren through his long, dark lashes.

Sitting on the side of his mate’s bed with Aslan in his lap, Torren

cupped his face in both hands and smiled softly. The smaller man had
no idea what he was doing, and was trying to make up for it with
enthusiasm. Now that Torren understood, it was easier to steer them
where they needed to go.

“Slow,” he said quietly, dipping his head forward and brushing his

lips gently across Aslan’s. “It’s not a race.” He pressed their lips
together again, a little more insistently this time. “Can you feel the
difference?”

A sweet moan escaped through Aslan’s swollen lips, and his eyes

drifted closed as he relaxed into Torren’s hold, allowing him to
control the kiss. With more tenderness and care than he’d ever shown
any of his previous lovers, Torren palmed the back of the man’s head
and swept his tongue inside the warm depths of Aslan’s mouth.

He kept his movements easy, languid, and undemanding. It didn’t

take long for Aslan to catch on, and soon their tongues were moving
together in a slippery, sensual glide. Torren’s dick swelled inside his
jeans, straining at his zipper, but he ignored it. This wasn’t about sex,
not yet anyway. They’d have plenty of time for that later.

Unfortunately, it was going to have to be much later, because he

had a job to do and missing people to find. There was also the issue of
his children to discuss—though, he’d still not met them. He’d only
just met Aslan, and already there were so many things that stood
between them.

“I need to talk to Bannon.” He pecked at Aslan’s lips in apology.

Invincible 15

Aslan shrugged and popped up from his lap like a jack-in-the-box.

“Okay. I’ll wait here.”

“Umm, yes.” Every time Aslan opened his mouth, Torren just

grew more confused. He hoped it wasn’t going to be a recurring
theme in their relationship. “I’ll be back.” He just didn’t qualify his
return with a time frame. Shitty of him, but despite what everyone
thought, he really didn’t have all the answers.

* * * *

Torren had said he’d be back. He’d even called him caro before

he’d left the estate that night. Aslan hadn’t known what that meant,
but when he looked it up on the computer in the library, he found out
that it was Italian for “dear.” So, that meant it was an endearment.
Torren had said he’d be back and called him by an endearment.

He never came back, though. It had been almost a week, and he

never came back. He didn’t even call. Hell, Aslan would have been
happy to see him as that ghost thing he did. The only possible
conclusion he could come to was that Torren didn’t want him.

It wasn’t really anything new. Lots of people didn’t want him.

Still, Torren was supposed to be his mate, so the guy had to like him.
That was the rule. Granted, he didn’t know all the rules, but he’d
asked everyone he’d come in contact with over the past week.
Kendall and Jory had explained to him about the bond between mates.
Stavion and Cassius had confirmed it. His friends were happy with
their mates, so why was he still alone?

Maybe he’d been too aggressive. He’d never really kissed anyone

simply because he’d wanted to before, and he might have gotten a
little carried away. Torren was just so gorgeous, though, and Aslan’s
body had lit on fire the moment he’d set eyes on the witch. Torren had
been very patient with him, showing him how he liked to be touched
and kissed. If he wasn’t interested, surely he wouldn’t have taken the
time to do that. Right?

16 Gabrielle

Evans

“Aslan? What are you doing in here?”
Coming out of his frantic thoughts, Aslan looked up to see

Kendall standing over him where he sat in one of the squashy
armchairs in the library. Worried and stressed about Torren, the
question crossed him the wrong way. “Why can’t I be here? Is there
something wrong with me being in the library?” he asked indignantly.

Instead of getting mad, Kendall just rolled his eyes and knelt on

the floor, resting a hand on Aslan’s knee. “I didn’t mean it like that,
and you know it. Don’t be a dick. I was just wondering why you were
in here alone.”

His irritation drained away immediately, but he didn’t want to talk

about the reasons he’d sought solitude. So, he shrugged and averted
his eyes. He’d already confessed all of the sordid details of his brief
time with Torren. There was no reason to drudge it up again.

“It’s Torren, right?” Kendall patted his knee and sighed. “Honey,

he’s not ignoring you on purpose. He said he’d be back, didn’t he?
Cassius said he’s in Missouri right now, trying to find his brother.”

“So, he doesn’t know how to use a phone?”
“Torren doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who thinks about

things like that. I think he’s used to being on his own. It doesn’t mean
that he doesn’t want you. He just…well, he’s just kind of a selfish
prick.”

The corners of his lips twitched, and before he could stop it, the

smile spread clear across his face. “I’m trying to be upset. Don’t make
me smile.”

“Aw, but you’re so cute when you smile.” Kendall poked him in

the belly button as he laughed and pushed to his feet. “Stop moping
around. He’ll be back, and then you can read him the riot act for
making you wait so long.”

Aslan thought it over for a moment and nodded firmly. Reaching

out to take the hand Kendall held out for him, he stood from his chair
and looked around the room. “His job is really important, isn’t it?” He

Invincible 17

knew Torren was an elder on The Council. The man had a lot of
responsibilities, and a lot of people counted on him.

“It is,” Kendall agreed. “But you’re important, too. Remember

that.”

“I don’t really know how to be someone’s mate,” Aslan

confessed. He certainly didn’t know how to be mated to someone as
powerful and prominent as Torren Braddock.

“I’m still trying to figure it out.” Kendall winked before taking his

hand and pulling him toward the door. “You’re probably going to
screw up, and Torren will, too. You’ll both do it often and with great
gusto as well. Then you’ll kiss and make up. No one is perfect, but
you’ll figure it out as you go.”

Absorbing the words as he allowed Kendall to lead him down the

long corridor, Aslan wished he had a little more to go on than that. A
starting place would be nice. No one needed to tell him that he was
going to screw up—that was pretty much a given. What he really
needed to know was about all the stuff in between the times he
messed up.

He knew what everyone thought about him. Even his friends

considered him flighty, clueless, and probably marveled that he was
able to function at all. It wasn’t that he didn’t care or understand what
they were talking about. It wasn’t even that he had a microscopic
attention span.

It was just kind of hard to hear and focus on what they were

saying over all of the other voices yelling inside his head.

18 Gabrielle

Evans

Chapter Two

Torren paced his temporary office in Casper, his head about to

explode as he went over the list of things that still needed to be done.

Two of his brothers were safe. They were making plans to locate

the others. Camdin Maywater had been recovered, and once rested,
Torren would talk to him about taking the fae seat on The Council.

The Council. An entire governing body to rule those of their kind,

and yet Torren still felt like he was alone in his endeavors. Elder
Layke Winters was doing what he could to help, but their current
crises involved the Magiks—Torren’s field of expertise by definition.
There really wasn’t anyone else qualified to do the job.

It hadn’t been easy, but Torren had finally convinced the other

elders to postpone the execution of three of their prisoners. The witch,
Natalie Halstead, deserved to die for her crimes against the
paranormal world, and specifically those against the children of their
world. She had information that he needed, though, and he couldn’t
very well pry it out of her if she was dead.

Phillip McCarthy was the hybrid bastard who’d held him prisoner

in Nevada and had almost unleashed something that none of them
would have been able to control. He’d been a cruel leader to the
Olympia Coven of vampires before his brother, Nicholas, had
challenged him and won control of the coven. The magic that lurked
inside of him was dark and rotted, but again, Torren needed
information from him.

That left Enforcer Hollis Becker. Torren had no idea what role the

shifter hybrid played in any of this mess, but if there was a chance

Invincible 19

that he was somehow connected to Natalie, well, Torren needed to
know that, too.

“You look like steam is going to start pouring out of your ears,”

Lynk teased him as he sidled into the room and dropped down on the
sofa. He still looked tired and a little haggard but in better health than
he had when he’d first arrived in Casper.

“You wanted us to help,” Raith added, following Lynk into the

room. “You’re not letting us help, though.”

“Both of you need to rest,” Torren hedged. He did want their help,

but he was having trouble letting go and delegating the
responsibilities.

“Some things never change.” Raith settled into one of the

armchairs and shook his head. “You’re such a control freak, brother.
Believe it or not, both Lynk and myself are very capable witches. You
don’t have to do everything on your own.”

Logically, Torren knew this was true. However, he bought into the

saying that if he wanted something done right, he should do it
himself. He’d learned a long time ago not to depend on anyone.
People had proven over and over that they would only let him down.
He didn’t want to depend on someone, only to find out that when he
needed them most, they vanished to leave him hanging in the wind.

It wasn’t fair to his siblings. They’d never once given him a

reason to doubt their word or loyalty. The life he’d led since they’d
parted ways had jaded him, though, and he couldn’t just cast his
doubts away like a dog shaking off water.

“I heard a rumor,” Lynk said slowly, a mischievous smile sliding

over his lips. “Is it true that you found your mate?”

Torren kept his back to his brothers as he stared out the window

into the night. “Yes.” Aslan probably hated him by now, though. It
had been almost ten days since he’d said his good-byes with promises
to return soon. He hadn’t called, hadn’t sent Aslan a message, or in
any other way tried to make contact with him.

20 Gabrielle

Evans

Aslan made him weak. In the few minutes he’d spent with the

younger man, Torren had entertained fantasies of giving up his
rightful seat on The Council, ignoring all of his responsibilities, and
just spending the rest of his days with his mate.

Of course, he couldn’t do any of those things. So, it was just better

for him to keep his distance until he had things straightened out with
the prisoners and was on the right track to finding his still-missing
brothers.

“So, where is she?”
“He.”
If this surprised either of them, his brothers didn’t show it.

“Okay,” Raith said calmly. “Where is he?”

“Where he’ll be safe.” Besides Aslan being a huge distraction for

him, it would also be very dangerous for the little man if the wrong
people found out that he was mated to Torren. Natalie had attempted
to kidnap Torren’s children in a desperate attempt to force him to
hand over his powers to her.

He didn’t even know his kids. Hell, until they’d found him in that

attic in Phoenix, he hadn’t even known he had kids. Part of him still
wasn’t completely convinced that the shifter pups belonged to him,
either. When he’d heard who their mother was, it had seemed
plausible. He’d had a brief affair with the wolf, but he didn’t
remember exactly when.

Still, he wanted to see the twins, find out for sure if they were his,

and then…well, he didn’t exactly know what he wanted to do. The
pups had been adopted by two she-wolves who loved them very
much. He didn’t want to take the babies away from the women, but if
they were indeed his children, they’d been born into a legacy that
none of them could simply ignore.

Either way, he wasn’t looking forward to the meeting and possible

confrontation. He hadn’t met Raina—one of the pups’ mothers—but
he’d met her brothers. Not only were they huge werewolves, but they
hated Torren with every fiber of their beings. Not that he could blame

Invincible 21

them for trying to protect their sister and the people she loved, but he
wasn’t interested in getting into a pissing contest with the men.

“You know you’re being an asshole without me needing to tell

you, right?”

Torren pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily before

turning to face Raith. “I check on him, but I need to settle things here
before we can be together.” He hadn’t asked anyone about Aslan’s
well-being. While he respected the Enforcers and maybe even
considered a few of them friends, he didn’t trust them with something
so important.

At least four times since he’d left Aslan in Haven, Torren had

traveled outside of his body, using his power of etheric projection to
visit his mate’s room and watch him sleep. With each new visit, Aslan
looked more tired and drained than the last.

When Torren had checked on him three days ago, the little man

had been sleeping fitfully, muttering under his breath as he thrashed
around on the mattress. The dark circles under his eyes were
prominent, even in the dim light of the room, and he looked thinner
than when Torren had seen him in person. Seeing his mate like that
caused a deep, painful ache in his heart, but there had been nothing he
could do to soothe Aslan’s distress.

Things had been hectic since that night, and he hadn’t been able to

return. Still, Aslan was never far from his thoughts, and Torren knew
he’d be making another trip once everyone was asleep.

His brothers weren’t impressed, though. “You’re an idiot,” Lynk

said with disgust, shaking his head while his eyes rolled in
exaggeration. “Just go bond with him, already. He’ll be safer, you’ll
be less distracted, and everyone will be a hell of a lot happier.”

The mating bond between a witch and his or her consort was

eternal. They would be twined together in every way possible—heart,
mind, spirit, and lifeline. As long as one heart continued to beat, the
other couldn’t die. It was one of the strongest, purest bits of magic in
the world, but it still had its limits.

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“Bonding with him isn’t guaranteed to keep him alive,” Torren

responded flatly. Gunshot wounds, stab wounds, and a slew of other
injuries could be overcome with their mating. Things like decapitation
or having their hearts removed from their bodies—there was no
coming back from that.

“Damn, you’re a stubborn asshole.” Raith slouched back in his

chair and crossed his arms over his chest, looking more stubborn than
Torren was sure he ever had. “It’s been a long time since we last saw
each other, but I can still read you like a book. You’re completely
fucking miserable, and you have no one to blame but yourself.”

“I have a stressful job. That doesn’t mean I’m miserable or that it

has anything to do with Aslan.” Maybe keeping his distance wasn’t
the most honorable thing to do, but it was with good intentions.
Unless they could sort out the problems amongst the different
communities and restore some kind of balance within their world,
they were headed for war.

“Oh, forget it. Tor doesn’t do emotional attachment.” Lynk

yawned hugely before rising to his feet. “I’m going to bed. Good luck
taking over the world.”

Torren didn’t think that was fair at all. He was trying to save their

world—not rule it. It was no secret that he was somewhat emotionally
stunted when it came to personal relationships and expressing his
feelings, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t have feelings.

He still stood by his claims that at some point everyone he

allowed close to him would invariably let him down. While he cared
deeply for his brothers, he had to include them in his statement.

Most likely they wouldn’t mean to fail him, but given the

selfishness of human nature—and paranormals were not excluded
from this nature—it was very much every man for himself. When
given the choice, survival instincts took over, and people would
without question choose themselves and their needs above others.

Invincible 23

Raith pushed to his feet as well and shook his head, a sad look

playing over his face. “It’s okay to trust people, Torren. Not everyone
is going to hurt you.”

Torren didn’t refute the man’s words as he watched him walk out

of the room, but he knew different. And he knew it all too well.

* * * *

“You came back.” His eyes were still closed, but it was as if he

could feel the presence of someone else in his room. He’d felt it at
least twice before, but when he’d finally crawled out of the haze of
sleep, he’d always been alone.

“You look tired, caro. You aren’t taking care of yourself.”
The smile that tilted the corners of his lips upward couldn’t be

stopped. Aslan didn’t want to open his eyes, though. It might be a
dream, and if he opened his eyes, he’d wake up to find the room
empty. “I miss you,” he whispered. It didn’t make any sense. He’d
spent a whole ten minutes with the man. How could he possibly miss
him?

“And I miss you,” Torren replied very quietly, just barely above a

whisper. He sounded sad. Why was he sad?

Blinking open his eyes, wanting to see the look on Torren’s face

to confirm his suspicions, Aslan frowned when he got a good look at
his mate. “You’re all glowy again.”

Torren smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His onyx eyes looked

haunted, lost. “It’s not safe for me to come here, but I had to make
sure you were okay.”

“You’ve been here before.” It wasn’t an accusation, nor was it a

question. It was just a simple statement. Those other times when he’d
felt like someone was watching him, hovering near him protectively,
it had been Torren.

Nodding slowly, Torren never took his eyes off him. “You’ve had

bad dreams.”

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Pushing up to a sitting position, Aslan curled his legs closer to his

body and pulled the blankets up around his shoulders. “Why are you
so sad?”

The question obviously surprised his mate. Torren’s eyebrows

lifted, his eyes widened, and his mouth fell open as if he would say
something. Then the look was quickly—and unsurprisingly—turned
to one of denial.

Aslan didn’t understand why people, and men in particular, felt

the need to hide when they were sad. Maybe they thought it made
them weak. Sadness was a natural human reaction to unpleasant
things, though. Aslan had been sad plenty of times in his life. He
didn’t think that made him any less of a man, or any more of a
weakling.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.” He pulled one of his arms

out of the blanket and patted the mattress beside him. “Come sit
down. We can talk about something else.”

Again, Torren looked surprised. Hesitantly, he closed the short

distance between them and eased down onto Aslan’s bed. The
mattress dipped with his weight, and though Aslan could still see right
through him, he wondered if he could touch the man beside him.

So, that’s what he did. His fingertips slid over the back of

Torren’s hand, very gently caressing the knuckles. He could feel
something, but it wasn’t as substantial as if he had been touching his
own hand. “I can touch you, but not really.” He looked up and smiled
as he tilted his head to the side. “Does that make sense?” Probably
not. Not often did anything he said make sense.

Torren’s lips crooked on one side into a half smile. “It makes

sense. What would you like to talk about?”

His mate was awfully formal. Maybe he’d been raised that way.

Perhaps he’d gone to some preppy school where they taught classes in
manners along with the rest of the curriculum. “Why didn’t you come
back for real?” It was the question he’d been dying to ask, and now
seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Invincible 25

“I…” Torren trailed off and pressed his lips together. Apparently,

whatever he’d been about to say didn’t sit well with him for some
reason. “You are a distraction.”

Well, that hurt.
“I told you so,” a feminine voice whispered inside his head.
“We all told you that he was an asshole,” another voice

commented, this one masculine, older, and with a slight accent.

“You can do so much better than him. Just look at the way he

won’t even meet your eyes. He doesn’t deserve you.” The last voice
was also masculine, but hard, mean, and always sent a shiver down
Aslan’s spine.

“Shut up,” he whispered. He didn’t know how long he’d have

with his mate, and he didn’t want to miss a second of it because the
imaginary friends in his head wouldn’t shut the hell up.

“Excuse me?” Torren shifted so that he could face him fully and

frowned. “Did you just tell me to shut up?”

“No! Not you.” Aslan closed his eyes and groaned. Why couldn’t

he just be normal?

“Well, we’re the only ones here. Who were you talking to if not

me?”

“No one. Forget it. So, did you find your brothers? Kendall said

you went to Missouri to find one of your brothers.”

“Make him leave,” the woman demanded.
“Yes,” the accented male voice agreed. “He’s not welcome here.”
“That’s not for you to decide.” Aslan growled, irritated with their

less-than-happy thoughts about Torren. “Go away.”

“You want me to go away?” Torren started to rise from the bed,

but Aslan grabbed him around the wrist.

Well, he didn’t really grab him because his hand went right

through Torren’s arm, but he figured he got the point across, because
Torren sat back down, looking at him very oddly. “Don’t leave,”
Aslan pleaded.

“You’re acting strange,” Torren accused.

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“You see the way he’s looking at you,” the menacing voice

taunted. “He doesn’t really want to be here. That’s okay, though,
because we don’t want him here. We don’t need him.”

“I need him. Now, shut up!” He yelled the last word as he pressed

both palms over his ears and shook his head violently. “Just leave me
alone!”

“Aslan, look at me,” Torren said sternly. He waited for Aslan to

drop his hands and look up into his eyes before he spoke again. “What
do you hear, caro?”

“They don’t want you to be here,” he whispered. What did it

matter what he said now? Torren probably already thought he was
insane.

“Who doesn’t want me to be here?”
“I don’t know their names. Two are kind of nice, but the other one

scares me,” he admitted. Fear was another emotion that most people
denied having, though he still didn’t understand why. There were
plenty of things in the world to be afraid of, and with good reason.

Torren moved a little closer to him, his hand reaching out to hover

just over Aslan’s cheek. “What do they want?”

“It’s usually different stuff, but right now, they just want you to

leave.” There was something in Torren’s tone and the way his eyes
softened that gave Aslan hope. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

“No, Aslan, I don’t think you’re crazy. Do they ever hurt you?”
“I get headaches sometimes.” Aslan shrugged. He thought it was

probably more from the constant noise than because the voices in his
head were trying to hurt him, but he wanted to be honest with his
mate.

Torren nodded thoughtfully for a moment before he smiled

weakly. “Go back to sleep now, caro.”

“You’re leaving? Will you come back?” Aslan didn’t want to

appear needy, but it wasn’t fair! Everyone else got to be happy. Why
not him?

Invincible 27

“I’ll come see you tomorrow night. I promise.” Then he bent

forward and brushed his lips over Aslan’s forehead.

It wasn’t a real kiss, and it felt more like cool air than warm lips,

but Aslan’s insides melted at the gesture. “I’ll wait up for you,” he
promised in return.

“Just rest,” Torren whispered. “We’ll see each other very soon.”

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Chapter Three

“Why the hell didn’t anyone tell me that Aslan is a witch? And a

fucking Limina at that?” Torren prowled about Stavion’s office,
throwing his hands in the air in explosive movements while he raved
at the coven leader.

“A what?” Stavion sat calmly behind his desk, reclined in his

chair with his fingers carded together and resting on his chest.

The vampire’s lack of urgency pissed Torren off, though he knew

he was overreacting. Knowing didn’t dissipate any of his anger,
though. “A Limina!” he shouted, as though if he said it loud enough it
would suddenly make sense.

Raven chuckled as he leaned against the wall and shook his head.

“We heard what you said, asshole. What is a Limina, though?”

The Enforcer was right. They weren’t going to get anywhere if

Torren didn’t calm his ass down and start making sense to everyone
but himself. Sucking in a deep breath, he forced himself to stop his
nervous pacing and exhaled in a great whoosh. “Aslan is a witch.”

“Yeah, we got that,” Raven said with a snort. “If you want to

know why we didn’t tell you, I can give you two reasons. Number one
is because it’s none of your fucking business since you just
abandoned him. Number two is because we didn’t know. I’m not even
sure if he knows.”

Torren wanted to argue that he hadn’t abandoned Aslan, but none

of the people in the room would understand, so he didn’t waste his
breath. “He’s not just any witch, though. He’s a Limina, a Mortuos
Limina.”

Invincible 29

“Translation?” Cassius looked merely curious as he lounged in

one of the armchairs.

“Mortuos Limina translates literally to ‘the threshold of the dead.’

Aslan is the threshold, the Limina. He’s like this portal or gateway
between the realms of the living and dead.”

Well, that finally seemed to get everyone’s attention. Stavion sat

forward in his chair and rested his elbows on his desk. “What does
that mean?”

“He’s hearing voices in his head. I don’t think he knows what they

are, though. He just thinks he’s crazy.” If anyone questioned when
Torren had spoken to Aslan or how he knew these things, they didn’t
interrupt to ask. “He’s hearing spirits trapped in Purgatory.”

“Wait.” Stavion held his hand up for silence, and then walked

around his desk to start pacing near the fireplace. “Okay, so he’s
hearing dead people in his head. These dead people are trapped in
Purgatory. You said Aslan is a threshold.” He stopped and looked up
at Torren. “What exactly does that mean? He just hears these spirits
and passes on their messages?”

Torren wished it was that simple. “There are different reasons that

a soul can be trapped in Purgatory. Some are there because they
choose to be. Some are benevolent, while others are cold and
vicious.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Raven called, twirling his hand to get Torren to

speed things along. “Can you get to the point?”

Torren really didn’t like the jackass sometimes. “These spirits will

batter at him, weaken his defenses, and if they time it right, they can
gain a foothold in our world through Aslan.”

“What defenses?” Cassius asked. “You mean to say that he can

prevent this?”

Torren nodded slowly. “I doubt he even realizes he’s doing it right

now. I can help him, though.”

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“Why do I feel like there’s more that you aren’t telling us?”

Stavion rested his hands on his hips and glared. “What’s going on,
Torren?”

“He’s been getting headaches. If these spirits can cause him

physical pain then he’s already breaking down. He’s also afraid.
They’ll feed on his fear, grow stronger because of it.”

“What happens if they cross through this gateway?” Cassius’s

eyebrows were drawn together and his brow furrowed.

“There is always a sacrifice in magic. If the balance is upset, it

must be restored.” Only one soul would be able to pass through the
threshold, and only if Aslan allowed it. There would be a price to pay,
though.

“Sacrifice,” Stavion mumbled to himself. Then his head lifted,

pinned Torren with his amber gaze, and even before he spoke, Torren
realized that the coven leader understood. “Aslan is that sacrifice.”

* * * *

Freshly showered and dressed in his tightest jeans, Aslan sat at the

foot of his bed, staring down at his bare toes as he vibrated in
anticipation. Torren was coming. He’d promised this time, and Aslan
believed him. No matter what the voices in his head kept telling him,
Torren was coming for him.

So when the soft knock sounded at his bedroom door, Aslan

sprang up from the bed and dove across the room to wrench it open.
Dressed in a thin, black sweater and dark khakis, Torren Braddock’s
enormous six-foot-four frame filled his doorway. Aslan was a little
disappointed to see that his ebony hair was pulled back, but not
enough to comment on it.

It was his eyes that held Aslan immobile, though. He’d never met

anyone with black eyes before. There was a slight glimmer to the
onyx, tiny gold flecks just around the pupil that added a touch of
warmth to Torren’s otherwise chiseled features.

Invincible 31

The smile Torren gave him was fast and easy. “Hello, caro.”
“I looked that up,” Aslan informed his mate. “It’s nice, so that

means you like me, right?”

Torren chuckled, the rumbling sound coming straight from his

chest and warming Aslan’s insides. “Yes, Aslan. That means I like
you very much.”

Stepping to the side of the door, Aslan couldn’t take his eyes off

the man. How did he get so lucky as to have someone like Torren for
a mate? “Would you like to come in? Are you going to stay?”

His smile slipped a notch, and Torren shook his head. “I can’t

stay.”

Aslan’s heart felt like it was going to fall out of his butt. “Will you

come back?” He refused to be whiney and needy, but he was
beginning to think that he wasn’t ever going to get to spend some
quality time with the man.

“Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to come to Casper with

me. I have to do my job, but I’d like for you to stay with me.”

Aslan wanted to be with his mate, but Haven had become his

home. It was the first place he’d ever felt like he had a real family and
people to care about him. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. “I
want to go with you, but what about my friends?”

Palming the side of Aslan’s face, Torren smiled and his eyes

softened marginally. “It’s just for a little while. Your friends are
welcome to visit, and once things settle down, we can come here as
often as you like.” His gaze raked over Aslan’s body from head to toe
as he spoke, and his eyebrows drew together like he was confused
about something. “What are you wearing?”

“Do you like it?” He’d copied the look from a movie he’d

watched with Jory. The movie sucked as usual, but the guy was hot.

Standing up a little straighter, he trailed his fingers down the light-

blue material of the scarf that was wrapped around his neck. It fell
over his shoulders and down his nude chest, the fringes barely
brushing against his hips. The jeans he’d acquired from Kendall, but

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they were his favorite. Very tight, stonewashed, and artfully ripped,
they showed off more skin than they covered. Aslan felt sexy when he
wore them, and he’d wanted to look very tempting for his big mate.

“Your hair.” Torren touched Aslan’s temple, fingering the much

shorter locks there. “What did you do?”

“Well, I cut it.” Aslan shrugged. It was just hair. It would grow

back. He’d felt that his long, curling tresses made him look like a
child, so he’d asked Raina to cut it for him. Now it was short, spikey,
expertly styled, and he felt like a rock star.

“I can see that.” Torren didn’t look very happy about it, though.

“Why are you wearing a scarf and no shirt? It’s cold outside.”

Aslan rolled his eyes and huffed. The man really needed to lighten

up and stop being so practical and stuffy. “Because it makes me feel
sexy, and I wanted to look nice for you. If you don’t like it, then you
don’t have to look at me.”

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, because Torren looked

like he’d never been spoken to that way. His eyes widened, his
nostrils flared, and a frown tugged at the corners of his lips.

Actually, considering what an important man he was in the

paranormal world, he probably only garnered the utmost respect from
other people. That didn’t mean Aslan was going to take it back,
though. He liked how he looked. It made him feel good about himself
for the first time in his life, and no one—not even Mr. Tight Ass—
was going to take that away from him.

“See, he doesn’t even appreciate the things you do for him.

Typical man,” the female voice said haughtily. “And now he wants to
take you away from your friends.”

“And your home,” the accented male voice added. “He will only

break your heart, my dear.”

“Make him leave!” The last voice was loud, growly, and vicious,

turning Aslan’s blood cold and sending a shiver of dread up his spine.

“Aslan?” Torren stepped a little closer, slid his knuckles under

Aslan’s chin, and urged his face up. “Are the voices back?”

Invincible 33

It was such a relief for someone to finally know his secret and

believe him. “They never really leave. Sometimes, they’re just quiet.”

“I can help you. Do you want to make them go away?”
“Well, duh.” Popping his hip out to the side, Aslan crossed his

arms over his chest and gave his mate a look he hoped portrayed just
how ridiculous he found the man.

Torren looked like he wanted to be mad, but he just couldn’t quite

make it there. So, after a few seconds of glaring, he finally gave up
and started laughing. The longer his laughter rolled on, the louder it
got, and it was so infectious that Aslan couldn’t stop from giggling
right along with him.

“You are going to be trouble,” Torren said when he’d finally

gotten himself under control.

Aslan winced and looked away, his good mood plummeting

quickly. “I don’t mean to be trouble.” He’d gotten himself into some
unusual situations since he’d arrived in Haven, but they weren’t
intentional. How was he supposed to know that it was a bad idea to
use laundry soap in the dishwasher? He’d just been trying to help, not
flood the kitchen in bubbles.

“Look at me.” It was said softly, but there was an authority in

Torren’s voice that had Aslan snapping his head up to meet his mate’s
gaze immediately. “I wasn’t making fun of you.” Aslan started to look
away again, but Torren gripped his chin in his massive paw and held
him still. “I actually meant it as a compliment.”

“He’s lying,” a voice whispered in his head. It wasn’t loud, but

Aslan recognized the snakelike quality in the timbre. “He doesn’t
want you. You’re too much trouble.”

He tried to work out the right thing to do, but it was so hard to

concentrate with the voice hissing inside his head. If Torren didn’t
want him, then he wouldn’t have come for him. Right? That made
sense.

“He wants to use you, to take you away from your friends. He

wants to hurt you.”

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Torren said he could make the voices go away, and Aslan wanted

that more than anything. There wasn’t a time in his life when he could
ever remember being alone inside his own head. Even when he was a
child, there had always been “someone” whispering in his ear,
wanting him to do things. He’d tried telling his parents, but that
hadn’t gone very well at all. They just thought he was crazy.

“Maybe I am crazy,” he muttered under his breath. Maybe the

voices weren’t real at all, and they existed only in his imagination.

“You’re not crazy, caro.” Torren bent from the waist and pressed

his lips to Aslan’s forehead. “I can help you, but I need you to trust
me. Come home with me.”

“This is my home.” Gods, he was so confused. He wanted Torren,

and who wouldn’t? The guy just oozed sex appeal. Even his deep,
rich voice was like a liquid wet dream that sent fire coursing through
Aslan’s veins.

Haven was his safe place, though, just like the name implied. No

one could hurt him here. He didn’t believe that Torren wanted to hurt
him like the voice said. He just didn’t know the man well enough to
trust him unconditionally.

“This can still be your home,” Torren answered after a minute of

watching him. “It doesn’t have to be permanent, but I can’t stay here.
I’m needed in Casper, and I need you with me.”

Well, that was a lot of needing. The Council needed Torren, and

Torren needed Aslan, and Aslan…well, he didn’t know what the hell
he needed except for the murmuring in his head to stop. “Do you want
me? Or do you just need me because I’m your mate?” Was there a
distinction between the two? He didn’t know, but he felt like it was
important.

“I definitely want you with me.”
That didn’t sound right, though. The night before, Torren had

called him a distraction. Now he wanted him? Aslan knew he wasn’t
the brightest crayon in the proverbial box, but he definitely wasn’t

Invincible 35

stupid. “Don’t lie to me,” he growled, jerking away from Torren and
taking a step backward.

“I’m not lying.”
“You said I was a distraction.”
“You are.” Torren sounded so calm and matter-of-fact. It did little

to appease Aslan’s anger.

“Then you can’t want me. Why are you lying to me?”
“They always lie. He wants to use you. Then he’ll discard you just

like everyone else.”

“I’m not lying,” Torren repeated. “You are a distraction for me. I

think about you, worry about you constantly. You make me…weak.”

“He lies,” the cruel voice hissed. “He only thinks of himself.”
“Shut up.”
Torren narrowed his eyes, studying him intently before he

continued talking. “When I’m near you, I forget everything else, all
the reasons that people depend on me. It’s not safe for us to be apart
anymore, though.” He stepped closer, holding his hand out with the
palm up. “Let me help you. Let me take care of you.”

Aslan didn’t need a keeper, though. “I’m not some animal in the

fucking zoo! I don’t need you to take care of me!”

“That’s right. You can stand alone. No one gives you enough

credit.”

“Shut up!” Aslan knocked his fist against the side of his head. He

was so mad, but he didn’t know why or what had caused it. Torren
hadn’t really said anything that warranted his overemotional reaction.
He just needed to think, and he needed quiet to do it.

“Your friends never put you first. Why should your mate? They all

have each other and their own mates. They don’t need you anymore.
No one needs you.”

“Shut up!” he screamed, rapping his knuckles against his temple

as if he could beat the voice out of his brain. “I hate you. I hate this.
Just leave me alone!” His head started to throb and pressure built
behind his eyes until his vision dimmed around the edges.

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“I can make it stop.” Torren knelt in front of him and grabbed his

face in both hands. “I can show you how to make it stop. Please,
caro.”

It was the worry in his eyes and the concern in his tone that finally

broke Aslan. Sure, Torren could possibly be faking the look, but
Aslan didn’t think so. What other options did he have? He was
supposed to stand beside his mate. Besides, he really, really wanted
those people out of his head.

Nodding slowly, he reached out and placed his hand in Torren’s,

lacing their fingers together. “Okay.”

“No!”
Pain exploded in Aslan’s temples, and he felt himself jerked

backward as though there was an invisible rope tied around his
midsection. His foot caught the edge of the bedframe, sending him
tumbling to the floor with nothing to break his fall.

The back of his head connected with something hard and

unyielding, causing him more sickening pain. He thought he heard
someone call his name, but it sounded far away and hollow like in a
dream. Aslan welcomed the darkness that enveloped him in its warm
embrace, drowning out all noise, all sights, and all of his pain.

Invincible 37

Chapter Four

Head wounds bleed. A lot.
Torren had to keep reminding himself of that as he performed a

healing spell on his mate to seal the gash in the back of his head from
where he’d hit it on the corner of the nightstand. It really didn’t help
to calm him, though. His hands were shaking, his heart was trying to
punch through his chest, and his stomach rolled uncomfortably.

The blood soaking into the beige carpet looked like an

extraordinary amount. How could such a tiny person bleed so much?
Aslan looked pale, and he didn’t even twitch as Torren held him to his
chest and rocked him back and forth.

This was bad. This was oh so very bad. If the spirits were able to

physically control Aslan, then they didn’t have much time. Before he
could help his mate close the gateway, though, he had to find out what
was causing Aslan’s defenses to deteriorate.

Just then, as he rocked the smaller man and stroked his spine,

none of it really mattered. All Torren cared about was seeing Aslan’s
eyes open again. Natalie, Phillip, Becker, The Council, the witches, or
impending war—none of it even registered on his radar just then.
They could all go fuck themselves as far as he was concerned.

Aslan needed him. While he hadn’t been a very good mate up to

this point, that was all about to change. It was obvious that he was
only doing more damage than good—to both of them—by keeping his
distance. The fact that he hadn’t even known what Aslan was until the
previous night was no excuse.

He’d been afraid. It wasn’t an emotion he was used to feeling. So

he’d dealt with it the only way he knew how—kicking its ass, pushing

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it to the back of his mind, and pretending like it didn’t exist. As long
as he stayed away from Aslan, there was nothing to fear. If he didn’t
acknowledge their status as a bonded pair, then he didn’t have to
worry about becoming weak or vulnerable. If no one knew they were
fated for each other, then no one could use Aslan against him.

Aslan needed him, though. Torren was the only one who could

help him now. Finally submitting to what he’d known all along, he
also realized that he didn’t want the man to depend on anyone but
him. That same protective instinct that had welled up inside of him
upon their first meeting resurfaced, dragging with it a healthy dose of
possessiveness.

A soft, pain-filled groan reached his ears as Aslan’s eyelids began

to flutter, and his head rolled back and forth against Torren’s
shoulder. “Open your eyes, baby.” Please be okay.

“Hurts,” Aslan moaned, but his eyes finally opened, and he tilted

his head back on his shoulders to look up at Torren. “What
happened?”

“You fell and hit your head.” It wasn’t technically a lie, though

not exactly the truth, either. Torren didn’t want his little man getting
all worked up and hurting himself again, though. “Do you feel
nauseous? Is your vision blurry?” Torren held up two fingers close to
Aslan’s nose. “How many fingers do you see?”

The giggle he received in return warmed his heart and made him

feel like a king. “I’m fine. My neck is a little stiff, and my head is
really sore. Other than that, I’m pretty sure I’m going to survive.”

“Smart-ass.” Torren pressed his lips against Aslan’s forehead,

relief flooding him that his mate was well enough to poke fun at his
concern. “What can I do to make you feel better?” That was his job
now—the most important job. Whatever Aslan wanted or needed,
Torren would provide it. He still had his responsibilities as elder, but
the moment he’d stopped fighting the pull he felt to be with his mate,
Aslan had become his priority.

Invincible 39

“My scarf is ruined.” Aslan pouted, his bottom lip protruding as

he examined the stained material.

“I’ll buy you a new one.”
Aslan peered up at him for a minute before his eyes lit up and his

soft, pink lips parted in a grin. His arms shot out to lock around
Torren’s neck, squeezing him tightly as he molded their mouths
together. “Thank you,” he breathed long moments later when they
finally pulled apart.

Hell, if it got him another kiss like that, Torren would buy his

little man a whole truckload of scarves in every color he could find.
He hadn’t wanted this. It was too dangerous for them to be together,
but every time he looked into those deep brown eyes, he found
himself helpless against their magnetism.

He’d never felt anything with such extremity and swiftness as the

emotions that crashed over him like a tidal wave when Aslan said his
name. He blamed it on the magic that flowed between them, pulling
them closer and closer to the vortex until they’d finally be sucked in
together and remolded as one.

It was the only thing that made sense. The only reason he could

think of why he’d only just met the man yet he knew he would do,
say, and be whatever Aslan needed. The bond between two fated
witches was powerful, encompassing, intense, and consuming.

“You’re looking at me funny. Why do you always look at me

funny?”

“Do you always just blurt out what you’re thinking?”
Aslan dropped his head to the side and lifted it in a jerky motion

that was like shrugging but with his head. “Well, how else are you
supposed to know if I don’t tell you?”

Torren chuckled in spite of himself. The man had a point. “You

are something else.” He kissed the tip of Aslan’s nose and patted the
man’s hip to get him to stand. “How are you feeling now?”

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“Better. Just a little sore right here.” He rubbed at the back of his

head, grimacing when his hand came away bloody. “Can I take a
shower and change before we leave?”

Though a bit shocked that Aslan was still willing to travel back to

Casper with him, Torren kept his face impassive as he nodded once.
“That’s probably a good idea. Would you like me to pack your things
while you shower?”

Sidling up to him and rubbing against his chest like a cat in heat,

Aslan even purred. “I’d like it better if you took a shower with me.”

Torren swallowed hard as his cock jerked inside his khakis. Oh,

sweet mercy, he was in so much trouble. “I don’t think that’s a good
idea.”

Rolling his eyes, Aslan palmed Torren’s growing erection through

the fabric of his pants and squeezed. “This says otherwise.”

Oh, his cock was all for the idea of getting Aslan naked and

slippery. His brain was the part of his anatomy rebelling. The pull to
claim his other half and bind them was too strong, though, and he
couldn’t—would not—do that without his mate’s approval. He had
doubts that Aslan even knew he was a witch, and that meant the guy
wouldn’t understand the enormity of what encompassed their
bonding.

“We need to talk.” He never knew that four little words could be

so painful to speak. His cock throbbed angrily inside his boxers,
begging that he shut the fuck up and just take what was so willingly
offered.

“Talk later,” Aslan mumbled, slipping his hands beneath the hem

of Torren’s sweater and caressing the taut skin covering his abs.

Torren couldn’t stop the quiet moan that escaped him as those

small hands roamed his stomach, mapping out each clenching muscle
with his fingertips before moving up to pinch and tug at his nipples.
There was something important that he’d been about to say. He was
sure of it. Aslan’s hands on him short-circuited his brain, though, and

Invincible 41

any thought not related to having his mate naked and writhing on his
cock was forgotten.

This wasn’t right. He was bigger, stronger, older—definitely the

alpha of the relationship. He should be the aggressor, the dominant
seducer. Never in all of his years had he ever been as bold and
straightforward in his pursuit of someone as the man pawing at him.
Aslan knew what he wanted and wasn’t shy about demanding he get
it.

“You’re supposed to want me. Jory said you would want me.”
“Oh, make no mistake, little one. I definitely want you.” He was

going out of his mind with wanting his mate. Grabbing Aslan around
the wrists to stop his wandering hands, he gently eased the man away
from him and took a deep, calming breath. “We need to talk.”

Aslan hung his head, his arms going limp in Torren’s grasp. “I’m

sorry if I did it wrong.”

That did it. Torren’s heart shattered right there in his chest. “Come

here, baby.” He turned them so that he could sit on the side of the bed
and urged Aslan into his lap. The man complied, but there was no
eagerness about him any longer. It was though he was simply doing
what he thought was expected of him. “Now, I want you to look at
me.”

Again, Aslan did as he was told. “I’m sorry,” he repeated in a

whisper.

“Stop. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Crap, he wasn’t good at

explaining things. He could fire off commands without a second
thought, but he would be screwed if anyone ever asked him to explain
the reasoning behind his orders.

“Then why don’t you want me to touch you? I thought you liked

it.”

“I did like it.” He shifted uncomfortably as Aslan’s ass pressed

against his aching cock. “Aslan, do you understand what it means to
be mates?”

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Aslan nodded at once. “I asked everyone who would talk to me.

They said that we’re supposed to be there for each other, take care of
each other…” He trailed off and pressed his hand to his mouth to
muffle his giggle. Gods, that was cute. “They also said that we’d want
to fuck like bunnies.”

His cock jerked again, registering nothing of that sentence besides

“fuck.” Focus! “There is that, but there’s also a little more to it. Did
anyone tell you about claiming a mate?”

“Yes,” Aslan answered proudly. “Galen was really scared at first

because he didn’t want to die, but he loves Bannon so I guess he’s
okay now.” His eyebrows drew together, and he wrinkled his nose. “It
means that we’ll always be together no matter what. You have to love
me if you claim me.” He nodded firmly as though since he’d declared
it that meant it was now written in stone.

“And what if I don’t love you?” It would be very easy to love

Aslan. He barely knew the guy, though. Besides, Torren wasn’t sure
he was capable as such a deep emotion. He cared about his brothers,
but wasn’t sure he’d exactly call it love. Hell, he could barely stand
himself.

Aslan looked confused. “But you have to love me if you claim

me.”

“That’s why I asked you to stop.” He didn’t want to hurt his mate.

He felt very protective of Aslan. He wanted to keep him safe and
make him happy, but he couldn’t make himself love the man. “When
I’m close to you, I want to claim you. That doesn’t mean I love you,
though.”

“But you have to!” Aslan yelled, frantically scrambling to get out

Torren’s lap. “That’s the rule. That’s how it works! I’m your mate.
You are the one person in the world that has to love me even if I’m
crazy and stupid!”

“Aslan, stop it.” Torren reached for him, but the little man jerked

away and wrapped his arms around his torso. “You are not crazy or

Invincible 43

stupid. How do you expect me to love you when I hardly even know
you? Do you love me?”

“Yes,” Aslan said firmly. “We’re mates.”
With a heavy sigh, Torren closed his eyes and scrubbed at his

face. Aslan’s overwhelming need for acceptance wasn’t something
he’d anticipated. He highly doubted the man loved him. There was no
telling what his friends had told him, but he’d somehow twisted it in
his head to mean that once he found his mate it would be love at first
sight and singing birds in the background.

Torren didn’t know what rules Aslan was talking about, but it was

obvious that he was confused, and it was making him highly agitated.
Aslan kept one arm wrapped around his waist, rocking back and forth
as he rapped at the side of his head with the other.

“Shut up!” he screamed. “I’m not useless!”
Frozen in place by shock, Torren watched as Aslan continued to

scream and curse while he alternated between knocking his knuckles
against his temple and pulling violently at his earlobe.

“Get out!” he exploded. “All of you shut the fuck up and get out

of my head!”

Before Torren could make a move to stop his mate’s self-harming

behavior, the bedroom door burst open, and Raven, Demos, and to his
complete surprise and bewilderment, Raith came charging into the
room.

They all rushed to Aslan, surrounding him and trying to calm him.

Torren’s nostrils flared and a red haze settled over his vision when
Raith lifted Aslan into his arms and pressed his lips to the man’s ear.

Aslan stilled instantly, sagging in Raith’s arms, obviously asleep.

“I’ve got this,” he told the vampire Enforcers before jerking his head
at Torren. “You deal with that.”

Both men turned on him, advancing menacingly toward Torren.

“Leave,” Demos snarled, his tone low and dangerous.

“I’m not leaving my mate,” Torren argued. Were they out of their

fucking minds?

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“You have done nothing but hurt him,” Raith said quietly as he

lowered Torren’s mate to the mattress and tucked the blankets up
around his shoulders. “You need to leave, Tor. You’re only making
things worse for him.”

As if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs, Torren found he

couldn’t breathe. “He needs me.”

“No.” Demos pointed toward the door. “Get out.”
Torren stood, but he had no intentions of going anywhere. “None

of you understand what’s going on. I’m the only one who can help
him now. He needs me!” Why weren’t they listening to him? It wasn’t
as if he’d caused Aslan’s breakdown.

“He was screaming so loud that I could hear him from down the

hall.” Raven spoke calmly, but there was murder in his dark eyes. “I
come in here to find him practically beating his own head in while
you sat there and did nothing to stop it. You don’t deserve him.”

It wasn’t like that at all. He’d just been so stunned by Aslan’s

behavior that he hadn’t been able to move. The outburst had barely
even started when the men had exploded into the room. Right? “I—”

“Get out!” Raven roared, grabbing him by the shirt collar and

propelling him toward the open door. He kept shoving until Torren
was out in the hall. Then he gave him one last withering glare and
slammed the door in his face.

“I knew I didn’t like you.”
Spinning around, still wondering what the hell had just happened,

Torren found himself face to face with Kieran Delany—his pups’
uncle for all intents and purposes. Could this night get any worse?

“Well, the feeling is mutual. Now fuck off.”
“No.” Kieran pushed away from the wall and crossed his arms

over his chest. “It’s time we get some shit straight. You’re not getting
in that room to Aslan, but there is someone else here that you need to
meet.”

Invincible 45

He spun on his heels and started marching down the long corridor.

Resigned to probably getting his ass kicked before the sun rose,
Torren huffed and took off after the werewolf.

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Chapter Five

“Ah, shit,” Aslan groaned, as he clutched at his temples with both

hands.

“Easy.” A stranger sat beside him on the bed—a stranger that

looked very much like his mate.

“Where’s Torren? Where did he go?” He tried to sit up, but the

man put a hand to his chest, keeping him from moving.

“You need to relax. Everything is going to be okay now. We

won’t let him hurt you anymore.” He turned to look at Raven and
Demos over his shoulder. “Thank you for calling me.”

“I was afraid something like this would happen.” Demos sighed

and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s not that I don’t like Torren,
but I don’t think he’s a good mate for Aslan. The kid needs someone
who understands him, someone gentle. Torren is neither of those
things.”

Aslan was getting more pissed off with every word out of their

stupid mouths. They did realize that he was sitting right there, right?
He didn’t appreciate being talked about like he wasn’t there or was
too stupid to understand. “Where is Torren?”

“Shh,” the stranger said, obviously trying to soothe him. “He can’t

hurt you.”

Why did he keep saying that? Torren would never hurt him.

“Where. Is. My. Mate?” He bit off each word, allowing an unfamiliar
growl to slip into his voice. “I want Torren.”

“Raith?” Raven asked uncertainly. “Why is he asking for

Torren?”

Invincible 47

“I’m sitting right fucking here!” Aslan screamed, shoving the

man’s hand off of him and launching out of bed before anyone could
stop him. “Tell me where he is!”

“Aslan, do you remember what happened?” Raith asked him,

keeping his voice soft and even as though coaxing a frightened child.
“You’re covered in blood. You were screaming when we got here like
you were in pain. Don’t you remember?”

For big bad warriors, they were really freaking dense. “I hit my

head on the nightstand. Torren healed me. He would never, ever hurt
me.” He felt it with conviction right down to his soul. “He says he
doesn’t love me, but that doesn’t mean he would hurt me.”

The three men shared confused looks. “How can he love you?”

Raven asked. “He doesn’t even know you.”

Aslan shrugged. It was the same thing Torren had said to him, but

he knew his mate was just scared. There was something that sparked
between them every time they were together. The feeling was more
intense and combustible than anything Aslan had ever felt in his life.
He’d overreacted and panicked. That was stupid. He’d know better
next time.

Whatever was between him and Torren wasn’t some silly love-at-

first-sight crap like they told in fairy tales. It was much deeper than
that. He didn’t understand it, didn’t know where this certain
knowledge came from that they were destined for one another. And
though it was true that he’d spent only hours in Torren’s presence, it
was as though he’d known the man for a lifetime.

“He loves me. He just won’t admit it.”
The men exchanged those annoying looks again. “Why were you

screaming?” Demos asked cautiously.

Aslan paused, unsure how much he should share. They’d probably

just think him insane like everyone else did. However, if it got them
to stop talking about Torren like he was the bad guy, then he’d deal
with their skepticism. “The voices in my head were hurting me.”

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Everyone just nodded as though that sort of thing happened every

day. “Torren told us about the…voices.” Raven shook his head and
frowned. “You were hurting yourself, Aslan. You were beating your
damn head, and he was just sitting there.”

He didn’t remember much about what had happened before he’d

passed out, but he distinctly remembered Torren standing from the
bed. “He was about to help me when you ran in here. I saw him
standing up to come to me. You stopped him.” He spat the last part in
accusation. Aslan appreciated that they all cared about him and
wanted to protect him, but he didn’t need saving from Torren. “Where
is he?”

Raith was looking at him all funny, and Aslan didn’t like it. It

made him feel weird, like a specimen under a microscope. “Aslan, I
want you to do something for me.”

Aslan eyed him suspiciously. “What do you want me to do?”
“Just trust me.” When Aslan only arched an eyebrow at him, Raith

sighed and bobbed his head. “Do this, and then I’ll bring Torren to
you.”

“Okay.” Why hadn’t the guy just said so in the first place? “What

do I do?”

“I want you to close your eyes and think about Torren.”
Well, that was easy. He always thought about Torren.
“I want to ask you a couple of questions. First, how do you feel

when Torren isn’t with you? Do you feel tired or weak? Do you feel
depressed? Maybe your stomach feels kind of jittery.”

Aslan nodded, his eyes still closed. “Yes. I feel all of that.” He

didn’t know where this was going, but he hoped that Raith got on
with it. He really wanted to find his mate. Torren was sad. He
wouldn’t tell anyone, but Aslan could feel it.

“Torren hasn’t claimed you, right?”
“No, he said we needed to talk first, and that he can’t love me.”

Which was a lie. Torren already loved him. He was just a stubborn
asshole and wouldn’t admit it. Aslan could feel that, too.

Invincible 49

“Tell me what Torren is feeling right now.”
Aslan heard the vampires gasp, but he ignored them, focusing his

full attention on Torren. “He’s sad because he doesn’t know what he
did wrong and why you won’t let him see me. He’s confused because
he doesn’t understand why he feels so drawn to me.” He tilted his
head to the side and concentrated harder. “And he’s nervous because
Kieran and his brothers have him pinned in one of the rooms
downstairs.”

“Ah, crap,” Raven spat. Footsteps thundered across the floor, and

when Aslan opened his eyes, he found only Raith and Demos.

“Where did he go?”
Raith just shrugged. “I imagine to find Torren.” He stood from the

bed and linked his fingers behind his back. “When Torren comes here,
and he…he looks different…” Raith trailed off, and he seemed to be
having trouble finding the right words.

“You mean when he’s all glowy?”
“Yes, when he’s all glowy. Can you touch him?”
Aslan wrinkled his nose as he thought about it. “Not really. I

mean, I can feel something, but it’s not really solid.”

“More like a cold pressure?” his interrogator prodded.
“Yeah, I guess it’s like that. Why are you asking me all of these

questions?”

“One more.” Raith held up a finger and started pacing. “This is

going to sound really weird, but have you ever died before?”

Demos snorted. “Well, obviously not.” He waved a hand up and

down from Aslan’s head to his toes. “He looks pretty healthy to me.”

Aslan winced. “Yeah,” he mumbled, “when I was with this other

vampire coven a few years ago. They drained me.” He tilted his head
to the side so they could see the scars on his neck from three different
sets of ruthless fangs. “I’m pretty sure I died because I was in this
place that was really dark and cold for three days.” He shrugged, but a
chill worked its way up his spine from the memory.

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“What happened after that?” Demos asked, a trace of horror

entwined with his words.

“I woke up still chained to the wall. I guess they were just going

to leave my carcass to rot.”

Raith stepped forward, his eyes shining with pity. “Can I see your

hand, little one?”

“Sure.” He held his hand out, and it was immediately surrounded

by Raith’s much bigger one. The man closed his eyes and mumbled
something under his breath for a minute before releasing him and
stepping away. “What was that about?”

Dropping his head and groaning, Raith didn’t answer him

immediately. When he did look up, his eyes went straight to Demos.
“He’s not just a witch. He’s Torren’s Infinity.”

* * * *

“Don’t you have jobs to do?” Torren sat on the loveseat inside the

suite that Kieran had brought him to and crossed his arms over his
chest. Wasn’t there any damn security around this place? He didn’t
like his mate staying here if these werewolves were going to be so lax
in their duties.

“It’s night,” Kieran answered calmly. “The vamps take turns on

the night patrol.”

“Why did you bring me here?”
“We’re tired of our sister being such a basket case because she

thinks you’re going to take her pups away from her.” One of Kieran’s
brothers, Torren wasn’t sure which, leaned against the wall with a
hard look on his face.

“Easy, Parker.” Kieran raised his hand and waved his brother off

before turning back to Torren. “We all love those pups. They’re our
family now. Since you’ve known about them for weeks and haven’t
expressed any interest in seeing them, I’m assuming you don’t give a
shit.”

Invincible 51

Why did everyone always jump to conclusions about his actions

and immediately think of him as a coldhearted bastard? “Did it ever
occur to you that I’ve kept my distance because I care? The twins
were already kidnapped once because of me.”

“That’s nice,” another of the Delany brothers sneered. “You’ve

said you don’t want them back, which I’m grateful for, but what kind
of man are you that you won’t take responsibility for your own
children?”

“Eli!” Kieran barked. “Knock it off, asshole.”
“Enough!” a feminine voice declared as a petite, raven-haired

beauty stepped through one of the doors that likely connected to a
bedroom. “You attacking him isn’t getting us anywhere.” She
straightened her spine and plastered a smile on her face as she
approached Torren, but he could see through her brave façade. “Hello,
Mr. Braddock. I’m Raina Delaney.”

Torren rose from his seat and took her hand in both of his own,

bending down to brush his lips across the delicate knuckles. “Please,
call me Torren. It’s very nice to finally meet you.”

Her smile wobbled a bit, but she nodded and motioned for him to

sit again. “I’m sorry that I can’t say the same for you, and I’m sure
you understand why.” She eased down to the edge of the cushion and
clasped her hands together in her lap. “I love my children very much,
Torren. I hope we can come to some sort of agreement because I
won’t lose them.”

The trembling in her voice crushed him. “I am not such a bastard

as your brothers would have you believe. I will provide anything you
need for the twins. I would like to be a part of their lives, perhaps as
an extended uncle. I have no illusions that I am in any way fit to raise
a child, let alone two of them, though.”

The she-wolf didn’t look totally convinced, but the tense set of her

shoulders relaxed marginally. It seemed to take her a minute to gather
the courage to ask her next question. Torren waited patiently.

“Do you have questions?”

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Well, that wasn’t what he’d expected. “Your mate is another she-

wolf named Teegan, correct?” She nodded slowly, a hint of
defensiveness in her eyes. Torren bit the inside of his cheek to keep
from smiling. She was a fierce one, and he liked that. “And your
brothers play a large role in their lives?”

“We would die to protect them,” Parker said levelly. “Want to try

it?”

A caustic reply was on the tip of his tongue, but Torren choked it

back. They were only protecting their family. He could respect that.
Nodding at the wolf, he started to turn back to Raina, but Raven chose
that moment to come bursting through the door.

“Don’t kill him!”
Everyone’s eyes went wide, and Raina actually giggled. “You big

gorilla, no one is going to kill him.”

Raven stumbled to a stop and pushed his blond locks back from

his face. “Uh, right. Sorry about that. Aslan said that you
were…umm…well, it doesn’t matter I guess. I’ll just…” He looked
around the room, and back toward the door. “Yeah, I’ll just go.” And
that’s exactly what he did, leaving everyone chuckling in his wake.

Torren idly wondered what Aslan had to do with the Enforcer’s

appearance in the room, but he could only deal with one quandary at a
time. Right now, he needed to focus on Raina and the issue of the
twins. There could possibly be one very simple way to put all of her
fears to rest. “Could I see the pups?”

There was a collective growl that went around the room, and

Raina tensed again. Then, very slowly, she relaxed and offered him a
tentative smile. “Just sit tight.” She popped up from the loveseat and
hurried back through the same door she’d come through minutes
before.

No one spoke while they waited, the Delaney brothers choosing to

stare daggers at him in exchange for civilized conversation. When the
silence became oppressive, Torren cleared his throat and sat up a little
straighter. “How old did you say the twins are?”

Invincible 53

“The doctor isn’t exactly sure, but he estimates between six and

eight months.” Kieran lifted his shoulders jerkily in what was
probably supposed to be a shrug. “It’s a little harder to tell with
hybrid babies, I guess.”

Torren mentally calculated the time frame. If the doctor was

correct, and a wolf-shifter gestational period was approximately three
months, then that was only nine to eleven months. Why had he
thought the pups were older? He hadn’t been in Utah in more than a
year.

While he was still trying to puzzle it out, the bedroom door

opened once more, and Raina stepped out with a bouncing baby boy
squirming against her chest. Another woman—Torren assumed it was
Teegan—followed behind her, carrying an identical bundle in a
similar manner.

“This is Randall,” Raina said with a soft smile on her lips as she

sat beside Torren once more and turned the baby to face him. She
looked up at her mate and nodded, indicating that it was okay for
Teegan to sit on the other side of him.

“And this is Thomas,” Teegan added quietly.
Raina and Randall, Teegan and Thomas—cute.
A mass of curly, blond hair adorned the tops of their heads, and

they each had eyes as blue as a summer sky. They giggled and
gurgled, the sweetest little dimples appearing in their cheeks when
they smiled.

“They’re beautiful,” Torren said quietly. So nervous he could spit,

he reached out hesitantly and took Thomas’s tiny hand, stroking the
top of it with his thumb. Those pudgy little fingers curled around his
hand as the pup squealed in delight.

After a moment, Torren released his hand and turned to take

Randall’s, going through the same motions, though there really wasn’t
any need. If he was being honest, he’d known from the moment their
mothers carried them into the room. Though adorable and precious,
the twins looked nothing like him or their biological mother.

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Part of him was relieved, but a big part, a part he wasn’t

expecting, felt like he was drowning as his chest constricted so tightly
he could barely pull air into his lungs. The thought of having children
had scared him to death, but somewhere deep inside, it had also
warmed him. He’d been a father.

“They’re beautiful,” he repeated, forcing the words through the

tightening in his throat. “And they’re very lucky to have such
wonderful mothers. You don’t have to worry anymore.” With one last
caress to the infant’s soft skin, Torren released him and stood from his
seat. “Those are not my children, though.”

“How do you know that?” Kieran questioned him.
“They have no magic.” It was as simple as that. “They’re

definitely hybrids, but their father was not a witch.”

“Maybe they’ll have magic later,” Eli tossed out. “How can you

know for sure?”

Torren sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he stood in

the circle of defensive weres. “Each Magik family has their own
unique magic. It gives off a kind of pulse, I suppose.” His heart was
breaking as he tried to explain, but he just didn’t know why. This is
what he’d wanted. Wasn’t it? “While the twins are happy, healthy,
and adorable, they have no magical pulse, and certainly not the magic
of a Braddock.”

“Whatever,” Parker growled.
He couldn’t stay there any longer. He didn’t know what was

happening to him or why he was feeling so heartbroken, but he had to
get out. Just steps from the door, he paused when it swung open and
Aslan stood in the doorway. His eyes were red and his bottom lip
trembled slightly. Just then, he was the most amazing sight that
Torren had ever seen. “Hey,” he said lamely.

“We’re not finished,” Parker barked at him. “You think you’re so

damn superior. They’re hybrids, so you just cast them aside because
they aren’t up to Braddock standards.”

“As much as I wish it were so, they are not mine.”

Invincible 55

“Maybe and maybe not,” Eli responded. “I happen to agree with

Parker. I think they are, and you’re just too much of an asshole to
admit it. You don’t deserve them.”

“Enough,” Aslan said quietly, but with a trace of steel in his tone.

Then he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms
around Torren’s waist. “I’m sorry.”

Though it made him a weak shmuck and he knew it, he needed the

comfort that only his mate could give him. Lifting Aslan into his
arms, he buried his face in the warm skin of his throat and breathed
deeply, letting the sweet smell calm and soothe him.

What the hell was wrong with him? He was acting like a fucking

child, and it didn’t sit well with him at all.

“This isn’t over.” That had to be Jericho. The man hadn’t spoken

a word since Torren’s arrival until this point. “He’s planning
something.”

Raina rose slowly from her seat, passed Randall over to Kieran,

and in the next blink had Jericho slammed up against the wall as her
claws extended and her fangs punched through her gums. “It is over,”
she snarled. “That man is in pain, and if you can’t see that, then
you’re dumber than I thought. Let it go, Jer. Leave him in peace.” She
turned and growled at the rest of her brothers. “That goes for all of
you.”

Fuck, was he that easy to read? They probably all thought he was

a weak, neurotic mess. And the truth of it was that’s exactly how he
felt. The more he tried to work out the reasoning behind it, however,
the more his head throbbed.

“Take me back to my room,” Aslan whispered, placing a soft kiss

on his cheek. “We need to talk.”

For the first time, Torren realized just how ominous those words

sounded when on the receiving end of them.

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Chapter Six

There was a hollow ache in Aslan’s chest that wasn’t his own. He

didn’t understand how he could feel Torren’s emotions, nor did he
know how he could connect thoughts to those feelings, but he didn’t
begrudge the fact. If he could sense what was inside his mate, he’d be
better able to give the witch what he needed.

Neither of them spoke as Torren carried him up the stairs and

down the long hallway to his bedroom. He’d almost insisted on
walking, but then he realized that holding him in his arms was exactly
what Torren needed. Being surrounded by the strength and warmth of
the man wasn’t a hardship, so Aslan had bit his tongue and simply
enjoyed the ride.

Torren paused outside of the closed door, and his arms tightened

around Aslan. “Raith is still here.” He didn’t sound very happy about
it, either.

“Yes.” There really wasn’t anything else he could say. Torren’s

brother was on the other side of that door, and no matter what Aslan
had said, Raith wasn’t intending to go anywhere until he spoke to
Torren.

With an unhappy grunt, Torren pushed the door open and stepped

into the room, still refusing to relinquish his hold on Aslan. His
shoulders tensed, and his eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”

The angry quality of his tone was rough, dangerous, and possibly

the sexiest sound Aslan had ever heard. Shivering involuntarily, his
cock twitched inside his jeans, swelling harder the longer Torren
continued to make the rumbling sound in his chest.

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“We need to talk,” Raith answered simply as he rose to his feet.

“When were you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”
There was the delicious growl again, and Aslan’s breathing sped,

his pulse accelerated, and he wiggled in Torren’s arms, grinding his
aching dick over the man’s midsection. Do it again.

As if Torren had heard his silent plea, he nuzzled the side of

Aslan’s neck and growled softly, his chest vibrating with the sound.
“Is that what you want, baby?” Hoarse and raspy, he whispered into
Aslan’s ear while his warm breath caressed his skin.

Raith cleared his throat, pulling their attention back to him. “You

two have been apart for a really long time.” He exhaled in a great
whoosh and scrubbed both hands over his face. “This is a fucking
nightmare.”

“Oh, good, you’re back.” Raven sauntered into the room with a

cocky smile on his face, Demos, Cassius, Varik, and Stavion
following close behind him.

It was starting to feel a little crowded with so many enormous

men in his room. “What’s going on? Why is everyone in my room?”
Aslan flopped his hand around. “Go away.”

“Sorry,” Raven answered, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “No

can do.”

“Not happening,” Demos agreed. “What the hell is an Infinity?”
Torren tensed in his arms, and his head whipped around to pin

Raith with his dark gaze. Very slowly, his attention returned to Aslan,
staring at him as though he’d never seen him before. Aslan frowned.
“Do I have something on my face?” Crap, maybe he was getting a zit.
That would really suck.

“It can’t be,” Torren whispered. “I…I…”
“Stop fighting it, brother.” Raith shuffled closer to them, but kept

a respectful distance. “Let go and feel it.”

Aslan didn’t know what the hell was going on, but the two

witches were starting to make him nervous. “What’s he talking

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about?” he demanded of his mate. “What are you fighting? What are
you supposed to feel?” He began struggling, trying to free himself
from Torren’s arms. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Torren’s arms tightened, preventing his escape. “Aslan, calm

down.”

Instantly, Aslan went completely still, and the anxiety that had

threatened to overwhelm him vanished, replaced by a deep sense of
peace and contentment. “How did you do that?” he breathed in awe.

Instead of answering, Torren stared into his eyes unblinkingly,

and Aslan couldn’t help but stare back. As he watched, he could have
sworn that a soft, shimmering light flickered in the gold specks
around Torren’s pupils. Looking deeper, losing himself in those
endless pools of onyx, Aslan felt as though he’d known Torren for not
just his entire life, but for lifetimes before that.

The moment stretched on, and suddenly, he found himself getting

angry. He didn’t know where the agitation came from, but it was there
all the same. Without conscious decision to do so, he heard himself
saying, “You’ve kept me waiting a long time, Torren Braddock.”

Torren growled, grabbed the back of Aslan’s neck, and crushed

their mouths together in a kiss that lit Aslan up like fireworks on the
Fourth of July. It was hard, hungry, demanding, and possessive,
consuming him until his world tilted on its axis and ceased to spin,
holding them motionless in this one perfect moment of time.

“No!” a voice roared inside his head, making him jump. “Leave!

Make him leave!”

“Fight it, caro,” Torren panted against his lips. “You’re stronger

than he is. Silence him.”

It wasn’t easy, and the voice didn’t completely disappear, but

Aslan was able to mute it until it was barely more than a dull whisper.
It was draining, however, as though he’d turned the volume down on
the radio but had to fight against the dial to keep it in place.

“Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?” Stavion

bit out, obviously unhappy about his lack of knowledge.

Invincible 59

Well, he could just join the goddamn club, because Aslan didn’t

have a clue, either. Something was different. Something had changed
inside Torren, and Aslan’s entire body yearned for the man. “Yeah,
okay,” he finally said with a heartfelt sigh. “I’d like to know what’s
going on as well.”

Torren smirked at him and kissed the tip of his nose. “Let me tell

you a story.”

“Does it start with ‘once upon a time’?”
With a sly wink, Torren set him on his feet and nodded. “Actually,

it does.”

* * * *

Since Aslan’s friends had wanted to be included in the

conversation, they ended up moving their meeting to the spacious
library. Torren didn’t really care where they went as long as Aslan
remained close enough to touch.

Watching his mate chattering away with his friends, Torren

smiled and relaxed back into one of the armchairs. The man was so
full of life, babbling excitedly as he waved his hands around in
animated movements. His smile could light the darkest well, paling
the sun in comparison. He was so beautiful that it almost hurt to look
at him.

“You’ve got it bad,” Raven teased him as he flopped down into

the chair beside him. “I really wish you could see the dopey look on
your face right now.”

“I’ve waited a long time for him.”
“Okay, everyone zip it,” Stavion ordered, settling onto the sofa

and calling for Jory to join him.

The Enforcers found seats as well, those with their own mates

motioning their men to them. Torren couldn’t have been more pleased
when Aslan bounced across the room, climbed right up into his lap,
and curled against his chest. “Okay, love, let’s hear it.”

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“Whatever we tell you does not leave this room,” Raith began

from where he was leaning against the desk at the front of their group.
“Not only is it extremely personal, but it could be very dangerous for
Aslan and Torren.”

Everyone nodded their understanding and gave verbal vows that

they’d not do anything to endanger the lives of their friends. Torren
was a little shocked to be counted as a friend amongst the Enforcers,
but he found it sparked a flame of warmth inside his chest as well.

Nodding at his brother, Torren gave his silent approval for Raith

to begin the story as it had been told to them when they were young.

“Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away.” Raith stopped

and winked at Aslan, sending him into a fit of adorable laughter.

Torren picked up the square box of tissues on the table beside him

and sent it sailing toward his brother’s head. “Stop flirting with my
mate and get on with it, asshole.”

Raith just laughed as he caught the box and placed it on the desk

behind him. “Fine, I’ll skip the history lesson and get to the point. In
the early fifteen hundreds the Book of the Banished was used to call
forth an army of the dead. War ensued. People died. You get the
idea.”

They all nodded, though Torren had to fight the urge to groan.

Obviously, his brother was not the most skilled storyteller, but at least
he was hitting the main points.

“Well, short story shorter, a circle of thirteen witches was able to

cast the souls back into Purgatory where they belonged. Too
dangerous in the wrong hands, the book had to be destroyed.”

“Only, when the circle attempted to destroy it, the curse

rebounded,” Torren said, taking over the story. “The legend goes that
the thirteen fell to their knees and cried out to the heavens as their
souls were ripped in two and one half was lost to the universe.”

“That’s horrible,” Aslan whispered, looking up at him with wide

eyes. “Were those your ancestors?”

Invincible 61

“I’m getting to that part.” He offered his mate a soft smile and

pecked his forehead before returning to the story. “Bound in wolf skin
and animated by the cursed blood of a vampire, the book sought to
bind itself with the closest living soul in a bid for survival.”

“That’s what happened to Camdin.” Galen nodded thoughtfully

while he slapped at Bannon’s wandering hand where it snaked up the
inside of his thigh. “Would you knock it off?” It was kind of comical
the way Bannon huffed and pouted as he sunk back into the cushions
and crossed his arms over his chest. Galen just rolled his eyes.
“Anyway, so that’s how Camdin essentially became the book, right?”

“That’s right.” There was a little more to the story about the faerie

and his curse, but that part wasn’t for Torren to tell. “Anyway, the
circle sealed the book within Camdin so that only one of the thirteen
could open it.”

“So, is it your bloodline?” Cassius asked. “Is that how you’re able

to open the book?”

Here came the tricky part. Luckily for Torren, Raith took up

where he’d left off without having to be asked.

“While Camdin is physically bound to the Book of the Banished,

the circle was bound spiritually. They would never die, because the
minute one body stopped breathing, another was born.”

“Like reincarnation?”
Raith nodded at the Enforcer. “Something like that. Call it

whatever you like.”

“Okay, so what does any of this have to do with Torren and

Aslan?” Jory asked from his perch on the arm of Stavion’s chair.

“The fates smiled upon the circle for their sacrifice and gave

homes to the torn pieces of their souls.” Torren looked down at the
man in his lap and had to swallow around the lump in his throat.
“While shifters, weres, vampires, and whatever have fated mates who
complete them, a witch’s Infinity is literally their missing half.”

“Torren and Aslan are Twin Flames,” Raith explained. “They are

two bodies that share one soul.”

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“Wait, wait, wait!” Galen jumped up and started waving his hands

around to get everyone’s attention. “You”—He pointed right at
Torren—“are one of the thirteen that originally sealed the book?”

“We all are,” Raith answered before Torren had the chance. “It is

exceedingly rare for all thirteen to be born to the same family. In fact,
I don’t think it’s ever happened before.”

“But your dad died fifteen years ago.” Kendall sat up a little

straighter and frowned, obviously having trouble deciding how to
word his question.

Torren understood, though, and took pity on the pixie. “My

stepmother gave birth to our youngest brother, Indo, the night our
father was executed.”

Galen’s mouth dropped open. “He’s only fifteen! Where is he?

How could you just send him off on his own?”

How strange that Galen would be concerned for someone he’d

never met. Still, there was no need for the alarm. “He’s safe.” The kid
had no idea who he was or who any of his siblings were, but he was
safe.

Jory tilted his head, his blond hair falling over one shoulder as he

wrinkled his nose. “You have a daddy brother. That’s gross.”

“Well, when you say it like that,” Raith said with a mock shudder.

“Since I’m forty years older than Indo, I’m pretty sure he’s just my
kid brother. Witches don’t really think in those terms, though. The
reincarnation thing is weird, but Indo is very much my sibling and not
my father.”

“How old are you?”
Torren realized it was the first thing Aslan had said in a while.

“Sixty-two,” he said cautiously. “The original circle doesn’t die from
disease or old age, but we can be killed by other means.”

Nice going, jackass, he chided himself when Aslan’s eyes went

wide as dinner plates. Why couldn’t he have just answered with his
age and left it at that?

“Are we done now?”

Invincible 63

Without even checking with the others, Torren stood from his

seat, lifting Aslan easily and cradling him in his arms. “Where would
you like to go?”

“You know I can walk, right?”
Torren shrugged. “Yeah, so?” He knew Aslan wasn’t a child or an

invalid, but he just liked having the man in his arms. He couldn’t
remember their previous lives together, doubted his mate even
understood what it all meant, but he definitely felt the connection. It
was also an enormous relief to finally understand why he was acting
like such a crazy person.

With a snort, Aslan shook his head and wrapped his arms around

Torren’s neck. “You have a lot of explaining to do, so we should
probably get something to eat first.” He pointed toward the door and
clucked his tongue. “To the kitchen!”

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Chapter Seven

The story had been interesting, but Aslan hadn’t understood a

great portion of it. Since everyone else seemed to have been following
along, he hadn’t wanted to look like an idiot. So he’d kept his mouth
shut and hoped that Torren would explain it to him when they were
alone.

After storming into the kitchen and ordering everyone out like he

owned the place, Torren had provided that alone time in grand
fashion. “That was really rude,” Aslan chastised his mate. “They were
just doing their jobs.”

“You looked like you needed to talk, and I didn’t think you’d

want an audience.” He was completely unrepentant about his behavior
as he began pulling things out of the refrigerator to make them
sandwiches. “Go ahead and ask me anything. I have no secrets from
you.”

“How come you don’t look that old?” As far as he knew, witches

were not immortal. Yet Torren said he couldn’t die of old age.

“Why do you bother asking questions? You’ll never understand

it.”

Taking a deep breath, Aslan did his best to push the voice away

and ignore it. Now was not the time for him to be distracted.

“It’s part of the curse,” Torren answered without turning away

from the counter. “Our bodies stop aging when we reach however old
we were at the time our souls were split. I was twenty-six. What else
would you like to know?”

Hoping Torren wouldn’t think he was a complete moron, Aslan

blurted the most pressing issue on his mind. “I didn’t understand a

Invincible 65

word about this Twin Flames thing.” He didn’t even know where to
start asking questions, either. None of it made sense to him. Maybe
everyone was right. Maybe he was clueless.

“Well, of course you are.”
Aslan didn’t even bother putting up a fight with the cold, heartless

voice. What would be the point? “I’m sorry,” he said to Torren. “I
don’t mean to be so stu—”

He cut off abruptly when Torren growled and slammed the

mustard down on the counter with enough force to crack the bottom
of the plastic bottle. Then he was across the kitchen and in Aslan’s
face before he even knew what was happening.

“I don’t ever want to hear you talk about yourself like that again.

Am I understood?” His eyes flashed fire, and heat rolled off of him in
waves.

Aslan swallowed hard. His pulse tripped into overdrive, his palms

began to sweat, and every muscle in his body quivered with nervous
anticipation. He wasn’t afraid of the giant towering over him, but
something inside him responded to the steel-laced command in
Torren’s tone—something connected straight to his cock.

“Yes,” he whispered breathlessly, trying like hell to keep from

panting. “I understand.”

Torren’s eyes softened, and he caressed the side of Aslan’s face

with his fingertips. “Better.”

Shivering in delight from his mate’s touch and the fact that he’d

pleased the man, Aslan wrapped his fingers around Torren’s wrist and
pressed his face into the huge, soft palm, nuzzling his cheek against it.
He loved that Torren was so much bigger than him. It made him feel
safe and protected, as though nothing in the world could hurt him
while he was surrounded by Torren’s strength.

“I’ve really missed you.” It was a strange feeling, but he felt it all

the same—like part of him had disappeared and only now returned. “I
don’t understand any of this.” His eyes popped open wide when
Torren growled at him. What had he done wrong now? “Torren?”

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“Maybe I should have qualified my statement earlier. I never want

to hear you talk about yourself in a negative way, and I don’t want to
feel it, either. This is a lot, Aslan. Anyone would be spinning from all
of it right now. Just because you don’t understand, it does not make
you less intelligent than anyone else.”

It should have occurred to him that if he could feel Torren’s

emotions, then the same would be true in reverse. He couldn’t help
how he felt, though. What did the man want from him? He’d
promised that he wouldn’t speak his concerns aloud. That’s the best
he could do, though.

As though reading his mind, Torren sighed, scooped Aslan into

his arms, and settled him in his lap as he sat in Aslan’s now-vacated
seat. “Now, you listen to me, Aslan…” He trailed off and frowned. “I
don’t even know your last name.”

Aslan shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I stopped using it when my

parents sold me to that vampire coven.”

“When was this?”
“A couple of years ago, I guess. I was sixteen.”
Torren’s face took on a pinched look and his eyes creased in the

corners. “Please tell me that you’re eighteen.” He sounded choked
and maybe even a little sick.

Rolling his eyes, Aslan leaned forward and pressed their lips

together as he straddled Torren’s massive thighs. “I’ll be twenty next
month.”

To his surprise, Torren closed his eyes and groaned. “So young,”

he whispered as though it was painful for him to speak the words.

Deciding that line of thinking had gone far enough, he reached

between their bodies and pressed his palm to Torren’s zipper, giving
his soft cock a nice, gentle squeeze. “Not that young,” he said in what
he hoped was a seductive purr.

He guessed he’d gotten it right when Torren’s eyes popped open,

blazing with unhidden lust.

“You know what they say about playing with fire, baby.”

Invincible 67

Grinning mischievously, Aslan leaned forward again, tickling the

seam of Torren’s lips with his tongue, coaxing the man to open for
him. “No, but I hope it means I’m going to get a blow job in the
kitchen.”

Torren’s breathy chuckle parted his plump lips, and Aslan took

full advantage, sweeping his tongue inside his mate’s mouth. It was
hard to tell who groaned louder when their tongues met and twined,
but it didn’t really matter. Winding one arm around his waist, Torren
fisted his other hand in Aslan’s short hair, holding him still so he
could take the kiss deeper.

Content to submit to his mate’s dominance, Aslan relaxed his

body, melting against Torren’s chest and moaning softly at the intense
pleasure that seemed to burn him from the inside out. Drowning in the
taste of his mate, reality warped, turning him upside down so that
when he finally came up for air it was to find himself sans his shirt.

The button on his jeans popped open with a skilled twist of

Torren’s long fingers. His zipper followed quickly as his cock swelled
and strained, pressing against the soft denim in its bid for freedom.

Torren’s quiet, growling moan filled his mouth as his soon-to-be

lover extracted his aching dick and stroked it lightly from base to
helmet. The act felt familiar, as though they’d done it a thousand
times before, and Aslan jerked in Torren’s embrace, flexing his hips
so that his length slid through his mate’s fist.

“More,” he begged, clutching at the fabric of Torren’s sweater and

dragging it over his head, needing to feel the hot, hard muscles
beneath his palms.

Instead of heeding his plea, Torren released his cock, jerked

Aslan’s head back on his shoulders, and attacked the sensitive skin
along his throat while he lifted him onto the table. Following him up,
Torren kept one arm around his waist, holding him in an inclined
position and placing himself between Aslan’s knees.

Very gently, Torren eased him back on the table and kissed a slow

path down Aslan’s chest, leaving a trail of liquid heat in his wake. His

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tongue swirled around Aslan’s navel and dipped inside while he
worked Aslan’s jeans off his legs and tossed them to the floor.

Sitting back in his chair, he gripped Aslan’s calves and pulled him

forward, sliding him to the edge of the table. “Spread your legs,
baby.”

Shivering and panting, he did as instructed, looping his elbows

under his knees and opening himself to his lover’s gaze. The new
position made him feel exposed and vulnerable, but when Torren
hummed in approval, the anxiety ebbed just as quickly as it had come.

Two thick fingers traced his bottom lip then tapped at it. Opening

instantly, Aslan captured Torren’s digits in his mouth, swirling his
tongue around them and sucking hard. His back bowed and a
strangled moan rose up from his chest when his mate palmed his
heavy erection once more, squeezing it in rhythmic movements that
made his asshole clench greedily.

“That’s it,” Torren praised him. “Get them good and wet.” His

soft hair tickled the inside of Aslan’s thighs just before incredible
moist heat surrounded the head of his cock. Torren swirled his tongue
around the crown then flicked at the bundle of nerves just under the
ridge, sending Aslan into a tailspin of need.

Sucking harder on his lover’s fingers, Aslan rocked as much as his

position would allow, driving his throbbing dick deeper into Torren’s
welcoming mouth. Wading through his blinding lust, an errant
thought slipped into his muddled brain, reminding him not to thrust
too deeply. Torren had a horrible gag reflex.

Confusion cooled some of his ardor. How the hell did he know

that?

Then it all ceased to matter when Torren’s fingers slid from his

mouth and pressed against his fluttering hole, ringing the muscles
with gentle but steady pressure. Taking a deep breath and willing
himself to relax, Aslan still couldn’t stop his gasp when those spit-
soaked digits pushed into his clenching channel and began pumping
lazily.

Invincible 69

The burn was minimal, the pressure intense, and the pleasure

mind numbing. His lover’s free hand gripped the base of his cock,
sliding and twisting in an upward spiral until his fist met his lips.
Over and over, Torren worked the rigid flesh in his mouth, moaning
and growling while he continued stretching Aslan’s entrance.

Jerking and spasming, Aslan made sounds he’d never heard issue

from his own lips before. When the next inward glide sent Torren’s
fingers brushing over his prostate, Aslan squeezed his eyes closed,
arched his back, and shouted to the ceiling.

While Torren’s hand kept stroking him, his mouth disappeared,

leaving the torrent of warm cum spurting from Aslan’s cock to splash
over his belly. Coming down from his orgasmic high, his body still
quaking in aftershocks, Aslan peered down between his legs to see a
very self-satisfied smirk on his lover’s ruggedly handsome face.

Releasing Aslan’s still-hard cock and easing his fingers from his

hole, Torren pushed his khakis off his hips, scooped the cooling cum
from Aslan’s belly, and used it to slick his engorged shaft. Renewed
desire slammed into Aslan, and he licked his dry lips while his cock
throbbed painfully as though he hadn’t just had the orgasm of his life.

The confident grin on Torren’s face was wickedly arousing as he

lifted his hand and crooked one finger. “Come here, caro.”

Apparently, he didn’t move fast enough, because in the next

instant, he was hauled into Torren’s lap, the thick head of his lover’s
cock poised at his opening. Their mouths crashed together, carnal and
savage while Aslan lowered himself over Torren’s length, feeling his
inner walls strain to accept his mate’s thick girth.

He was so full, completely filled, and it was heaven. The ache in

his ass, his balls, and his pulsing dick combined and exploded into an
inferno of all-consuming pleasure. Flames of erotic desire licked at
his skin, crawling over his body and engulfing him in their passionate
embrace.

Instinct took over, and he began to rise and fall, flexing his thighs

and bracing his hands on the table behind him as he impaled himself

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on Torren’s cock. His head fell back on his shoulders, a high keening
noise ripping from his throat when his mate’s hands began roaming
his chest and tugging at his pebbled nipples.

Then those strong hands moved to his hips, grasping him firmly

and encouraging him to move faster. “That’s it, baby. Fuck my cock.”
His grip tightened, his fingers digging into Aslan’s flesh as he began
thrusting upward, driving into Aslan’s ass in lightning-quick strokes.

“Ahhh!” Aslan cried out, his pleasure spiking as he teetered on the

edge of climax. “Torren!”

“Yeah, scream, Aslan. Scream my name.” Torren yanked him

forward, molding their chests together as his arms locked behind
Aslan’s back. “Come for me,” Torren rasped in his ear. “Come on my
cock. Milk me dry.”

He whispered words that Aslan didn’t understand, but they

sounded important, and suddenly it felt as though the sun itself had
burst inside of him. Aslan screamed until his throat was raw and his
head spun. Explosions wracked his body, tearing his release from
him, and he coated Torren’s cobblestone abs with his heated seed.

Floating somewhere above his body, he heard Torren’s roar as

though from a great distance, felt the splash of his lover’s climax
filling his depths, and then everything disappeared as he drifted into
darkness.

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Chapter Eight

Placing Aslan back on the table, Torren couldn’t stop his chuckle

when his mate didn’t even twitch. Scrubbing himself first, he then wet
a dishcloth with warm water and cleaned Aslan as best he could. It
would at least be enough to get them back to the man’s room.

Grabbing Aslan’s jeans off the floor, he looked between the denim

and his lover. Tossing the pants to the side, he picked his own sweater
up instead, tugged it over Aslan’s head, and pulled it down his body
to hide all of his bits and pieces.

He’d just finished buttoning his own pants and lifting Aslan into

his arms when his brother stepped into the kitchen with a knowing
smirk on his face. “I’m going to guess the screaming we heard was a
good thing this time.”

“You’d guess correctly.” It was better than good. It was amazing.

“Do you think he’ll be pissed?”

Raith shrugged. “That you claimed him? I doubt it.” He stepped

aside to allow Torren to exit the room and followed behind him as
they climbed the stairs. “Do you remember anything yet?”

“Bits and pieces.” It was more like a slow trickle, and he’d

occasionally get a little flash of his previous lives with Aslan. They’d
first met just a year after the battle between the Magiks had ended.
The war wasn’t quite as over as they thought, though. Six months into
their relationship, they were dragged from their beds and slain in the
middle of the night.

He’d found Aslan again in Salem Village in 1692—the year of the

Salem Witch Trials. Again, it had ended in death for both of them just
months after meeting. Then once more in 1854 they’d found their way

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together. And once more it had spelled tragedy less than a year later
when a circle of witches had kidnapped Aslan and beheaded him.
Torren had been so devastated over the loss that he’d taken his own
life, unable to bear the passing days without his mate.

It had been almost a hundred and sixty years since, and now that

they were bonded, Torren felt each one of those years like a white-hot
poker to his gut. None of that mattered, though. He had Aslan in his
arms, and he’d be prepared this time. His past failures would not be
repeated. No matter what he had to do, Aslan would be protected
because he couldn’t lose him yet again.

“This could get complicated,” Raith said quietly, leaning against

the doorframe as Torren tucked Aslan into bed and pulled the blankets
up around his shoulders.

“How is that?” He wasn’t really listening, his full attention

focused on the breathtaking man sleeping on the mattress.

“You have responsibilities as an elder. He’s going to be a huge

distraction for you. I can already tell that it’s been a long time since
you were together, and the need to always be close to him is going to
consume you. War is coming, brother, and we need to be prepared.”

Torren spun around and growled at Raith. “You think I don’t

know what’s at stake? Do you really believe that I don’t know what’s
coming? I’ll do my job, brother. He won’t be hurt again.” No matter
what he’d tried to tell himself—and most of that he’d kept from
everyone else—the war between his kind was already stirring. “We
have to find the others.”

Their best hope at winning rested in having the original circle

reunited. Individually, they were strong. Together they were a force to
be reckoned with.

“Halloween is next week. There’s not enough time to find

everyone,” Raith argued.

Torren wasn’t stupid, though. He knew that, which was exactly

why he’d sent Bannon to find Raith and Lynk in the first place. As the
eldest three, they were the strongest. If their enemies chose to attack

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during the witching hour on Halloween, at least the coven was
somewhat protected.

“It will have to be enough. Nicholas McCarthy should be here

before the meeting next week. He’s not very powerful and has spent
most of his life hiding his gift. He’s still a witch and could be helpful,
though.”

“Raven told me what Aslan is,” Raith said just above a whisper.

“If the other circles come…” He took a deep breath and pushed his
black curls back from his face. “I think we need to reschedule the
meeting. It’s too dangerous.”

“We’ll leave when Aslan wakes up and discuss this when we get

back to Casper.” His brother had legitimate concerns, but there were
too many unknown factors for Torren to make a decision just then.

He needed time to think, to consult with some of the other

members of The Council, and then worry about what their next course
of action should be. While he was responsible for the safety of the
entirety of their world, his first and main concern was for the well-
being of his mate.

Raith didn’t look happy about being dismissed, but he nodded

curtly and backed out of the open door. “I’ll be ready to leave when
you are.”

“Why are you always such a dick to everyone?” a sleepy voice

asked from behind him.

Turning and kneeling beside the bed, he smiled tenderly at his

lover. “I’m not a dick to you.”

Aslan rolled his eyes, but his lips stretched into a silly grin. “Let

me get in the shower and pack a bag. I’ll be ready to go in about
twenty minutes.”

“I think I should join you,” Torren replied seriously. “It would

conserve water. Besides, you might need help reaching all the nooks
and crannies to make sure they’re clean.”

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“How considerate of you.” Aslan gave him a teasing wink and

pushed up on his elbow to deliver a blistering kiss to Torren’s lips.
“Start the water. I’m right behind you.”

No one needed to tell Torren twice. Now that he’d bound them

and entwined their souls, fitting them together like two puzzle pieces,
his heart was so full of warmth and love that he thought he’d burst
with it. More memories assaulted him, crashing over him and
soothing his frayed nerves.

He wondered if it had been that way each time they were

separated. The only memories he could remember from his previous
lives involved Aslan, though, so he couldn’t be sure. All of his life—
well, this life—he’d harbored trust and control issues, been
emotionally stunted, detached, aloof, and reserved.

While he hadn’t been a monk over the years, sex always left him

feeling hollow and unfulfilled. For years he’d felt gutted, like he was
only part of a man. There had always been something missing, and
the depression that knowledge caused had slowly eaten away at him.
Before he knew it, he’d become a cold, calculating, and unfeeling
prick, pushing away everyone who had, did, or would ever care about
him.

With Aslan at his side, he finally felt whole. Making love to his

mate was earth-shattering, yet it fed him emotionally as well. It was
as though Aslan was the light to his darkness, the yin to his yang, and
he complemented him so perfectly that he wasn’t sure where he ended
and his lover began.

No matter the sacrifices, he’d do anything to keep the feeling

inside of him. Above all else, Aslan would be protected. No way
would Torren allow them to be separated again. Ever.

* * * *

Arching his back, his fingers gripped the sheets beneath him while

his head thrashed back and forth on the pillow. A thin coating of

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sweat covered his lover’s nude body, made his tan skin glisten in the
soft flickering of the candlelight.

Torren’s long, dark hair clung to his damp forehead and trailed

down his defined shoulders. A rough five-o’clock shadow adorned his
jaw while his eyes flashed with need, desire, and an untamed lust that
made him look every bit the fierce warrior he was.

The wind howled viciously outside their small home, battering

against the window as though determined to break inside. Blue-white
beams from the full moon filtered into their room, casting the corners
into darkness but shining on them in its blessing.

His mate’s body undulated between his splayed thighs, his hips

rolling as his thick cock sank and retreated, surging into Aslan’s
yielding body. Their gazes met and held, the pressure building, the
passion soaring, and the storm raged on around them.

Aslan didn’t fear a bit of rain, though. It was unmatched by the

tempest his lover invoked within him. Shards of unmatched pleasure
sliced through him, igniting his body and sending him hurling over
the edge into free fall.

Sucking his bottom lip between his teeth to muffle his groan of

ecstasy, Aslan came in a blinding climax that stole his breath and
muted his senses. Torren’s grunt of release was just as quiet, but no
less satisfying as he pumped through his orgasm, filling Aslan’s
depths with his seed.

Tangled together, panting and shuddering, they clung to one

another while their heart rates slowed, settling into a familiar
synchronized rhythm. Soft, moist lips brushed over his cheeks, his
eyelids, his nose, and finally his mouth. Torren stroked his hair, his
back, his hips, and every part of him he could reach.

“Have I told you today how much I love you?” he whispered.
“Yes,” Aslan breathed. “But I never tire of hearing it.”
“Then I love you more with each breath I take. Thank you for

being mine.”

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But it was Aslan who was grateful. When Torren had found him,

his life had been bleak at best. Until his mate had rescued him, he’d
been an empty shell with no home and no one to call his own. Now, he
had more love than he could possibly deserve, and each day he
thanked whoever was listening out there in the universe that Torren
had chosen him.

They belonged together, though. He had vague recollections of

their previous time together, and it only deepened his certainty that
no matter the obstacles thrown before them, they would always find
their way back to one another. Not even death could separate them
forever.

Just as he was debating climbing out from beneath the warmth of

the blankets to clean up, loud banging sounded on their front door,
followed by a multitude of angry voices. Aslan tensed, his eyes
widened, and he looked to Torren for guidance.

The banging grew loud, shaking the entire house, and suddenly an

ear-splitting crash sounded from the front room and footsteps
thundered across the hardwood floors.

Torren hugged him close and kissed his forehead before pushing

him away and springing up from the bed. “Go,” he directed.

“You can’t fight them all,” Aslan argued, but he was already out

of bed and pulling on his nightshirt. The footsteps were getting closer,
almost to their door now. Opening the door that led to the adjoining
room, Aslan cast a pleading look over his shoulder at his lover.
“Come with us.”

Their bedroom door exploded inward, and several large,

menacing men advanced toward them. “Go!” Torren roared. “Take
the baby and go!”

Jerking upright in bed, Aslan felt the hot sting of tears as they

slipped over his cheeks. A bubbling sob welled up in him, and before
he could cut it off, it burst through his parted lips. His entire body
shook and his heart felt like it was being shredded inside his chest.

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Long, powerful arms wrapped gently around his waist, pulling

him back against the solid wall of his lover’s chest. “Shh, baby. It was
just a dream,” Torren murmured to him. “It was only a bad dream.”

It wasn’t a dream, though. It was a memory. Aslan couldn’t

remember which lifetime it was, what year, or even where they’d
lived, but he felt it with a certainty that he had indeed lost his child
and died in his mate’s arms that night. “We had a baby.” A precious
little boy who had Torren’s raven hair and matching eyes. “His name
was Addison.” How they’d come to have a child he couldn’t
remember, but that wasn’t important just then.

“My sister’s child,” Torren answered his unspoken question. “She

had died in childbirth, so we took the infant in. I was scared to death
and had no idea what I was doing, but you were amazing with him.
My heart nearly exploded from my chest every time I watched you
two together.”

By the time he finished speaking, his voice was rough and hoarse,

as though he forced words through a constriction in his throat.
Wrapping his arms around his midsection, Aslan rocked back and
forth, weeping for a child that he had lost so many years ago. The
memory had been so real, so vivid. He’d remembered each detail of
their room, the storm outside their window, and the all-encompassing
love he’d felt for his family.

When those men had beaten down their door, sheer terror gripped

him in its iron clutches. Then they were dragged out onto their front
lawn and forced to kneel on the sodden ground, and Aslan had known
there was no hope. He’d watched his child carried away into the
night, and his heart had ceased to beat. Though he was awake now,
the gut-wrenching heartache wouldn’t leave him.

In the four days since he’d arrived in Casper with his mate, his

dreams had become more frequent and more realistic. Sometimes
he’d even have flashes of their previous lives while awake, but it was
rare and not nearly as richly detailed. Though they often left him

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shaken, he treasured each recollection because it confirmed what he’d
known from the beginning.

He loved Torren Braddock with all of his heart, and the stubborn

witch loved him back, even if neither of them had said it aloud. How
could they not with the history they shared? The emotions that
assailed him in his dream world were as real as any he felt when he
was awake, and his love for his mate was always the most intense.

“We’ve been through a lot,” Torren said after a long moment of

silence. “I’m still remembering things every day.” His arms tightened
around Aslan. “I’m so sorry that I let you down. I swear it won’t
happen this time.”

“Do you think it’s strange that our first names have never

changed?”

Torren chuckled softly. “I hadn’t really thought about it, but I

suppose it is. I love that you just blurt out whatever you’re thinking.”

Well, then the guy better hold on to his ass for this one. “I love

you, Torren. I guess I’ve loved you for about seven hundred years, so
don’t tell me that it’s too soon. I don’t pretend that I understand how
all of this works. My brain might be a little slow, but there’s nothing
wrong with my heart.”

Torren growled but didn’t comment on Aslan’s negative statement

about himself. Instead, he eased them back to the mattress and
cuddled him to his chest so that Aslan could hear their hearts beating
in tandem. “Loving you has never been the problem.” He sounded
thoughtful, as though his mind was divided and not fully there in the
moment. “I’ve always loved you, caro.” He sighed heavily, resting
his chin on the top of Aslan’s head. “Sometimes love isn’t enough,
though.”

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Chapter Nine

He was getting absolutely nowhere.
While he could feel something blocking him from fully

investigating Enforcer Hollis Becker’s magic, Torren couldn’t tell if it
was from the man himself or from an outside force. “You do
understand that The Council intends to execute you if you don’t come
clean with me, right?”

Becker glared at him, his upper lip curling over his teeth. “Those

are my pups, and I want them back.”

He’d been spewing the same garbage for the better part of an

hour. Torren might have believed him if he hadn’t met the twins for
himself. While they were certainly wolf-shifters, they were hybrids.
He hadn’t delved any deeper to determine what that other part was,
but with their mother being a wolf-shifter, there was no way the
Enforcer could have fathered them.

“They are not pureblood shifters. How many times do I have to

say this?”

“Teegan loves me. She came with me willingly. You have no right

to keep me here.”

“Can ya not do a spell on him or somethin’?” a voice asked from

the other end of the corridor.

Torren turned to see Bannon Murphy striding toward him, his

mate, Galen, marching right beside him. “What are you doing here?”

“I want to try again,” Galen answered, elbowing Bannon in the

ribs when he started to speak. “We’ve bonded now, and my powers
are stronger. I’d like to give it another shot.”

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It was obvious from the scowl on the shifter’s face that Bannon

did not like this. It was also obvious that they had argued about
Galen’s presence there and Bannon had lost. Torren, however, was
grateful for any help he could get. “Be my guest.”

“I’d like to touch him. I think I could get a better read.”
“Absolutely not,” Bannon growled, winding his arm around

Galen’s waist and pulling him back from the bars of the cell. “You’ll
not be goin’ near him.”

Galen rolled his eyes and huffed. “Torren, could you maybe

sedate him so that Mr. Overprotective here will calm the hell down?”

Chuckling under his breath, Torren uttered a simple sleep spell

and watched unflinchingly as Becker fell to the concrete floor right
where he stood. Luckily, that was near the door of the cell, so at least
Galen wouldn’t need to go inside.

“See, love? Perfectly safe.” He patted Bannon’s arm where it still

clutched at his chest and whispered a few soothing words to his mate
before pecking him on the lips. “You know I can help or you
wouldn’t have brought me. I love you, but I need you to trust me.”

“It’s not you I’m havin’ a problem trustin’, a ghrá.”
“Then you’ll just have to come with me so you can protect me

from the big, bad wolf.” He grinned mischievously and tugged
Bannon forward. Slowly and carefully, he knelt on the floor, giving
Bannon a reassuring smile when the man growled deeply. Then he
reached through the bars and curled his slender fingers around
Becker’s wrist.

His eyelids closed, his long lashes fluttering against the tops of his

cheeks, and he shook his head fractionally. Turning his attention to
Bannon, Torren noticed the man watching his lover intently, his eyes
crinkling at the corners as his head tilted to the side. With a bit of
awe, he realized the pair was using their mating bond to communicate
telepathically.

“Wolf-shifter and human,” Bannon mumbled. “There’s somethin’

else, but Galen says that doesn’t feel like a part of him. It’s more like

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a shroud coverin’ him.” He frowned and his eyebrows drew together
as he finally looked up at Torren. “What does that mean?”

Torren felt both relieved and frustrated. “It means he’s been

cursed. I could feel the shroud Galen’s talking about, but I couldn’t
tell if it was his own or from someone else. Thank you.”

“Why don’t you look happy about the information?” Galen asked

as he pushed to his feet and stepped away from the cell.

“Because if he’s been bewitched, I can almost guarantee that it

was Natalie Halstead who did it. If she’s executed before I can
convince her to undo the spell, then Enforcer Becker will be
permanently damaged.”

“The spell doesn’t die with the witch.” Galen bobbed his head. “I

remember you saying that before.” His head tilted to the side, his soft,
brown curls falling over one eye. “You’re more powerful than she is.
Why can’t you reverse the spell?”

“It doesn’t work that way.” Torren pinched the bridge of his nose

and sighed as he tried to think of how to explain. “The only way I can
reverse the spell is if I take her magic. Otherwise witches can’t tamper
with each other’s spells.”

“Then take her magic,” Bannon said as though the answer was

very obvious and Torren was dense for not seeing it.

“I don’t want it.” Torren shook his head and linked his hands

behind his back. “Magic is like an extension of a witch. Natalie’s soul
is dark, and therefore so is her magic. Dark magic can taint a witch,
poison them. I have too much to lose to risk that.”

“You really love him, don’t you?” Galen’s eyes softened, and a

goofy smile spread over his lips. “I’m glad Aslan has you.”

“Yes, I love him. Our memories are returning and we have a lot of

time to make up for, but fate cannot be ignored.” He didn’t want to
talk about Aslan, though. His mate was never far from his thoughts,
and already he was fighting the urge to rush up the stairs, find his
lover, and ravish him to within an inch of both their lives.

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“Then I’m thinkin’ ya need to be polishin’ your negation skills.”

Bannon looked sympathetic, but not overly so. He was still a little
peeved at Torren for deceiving them when he’d been sent on his last
assignment.

Not that Torren could blame him, but at the time, it couldn’t be

helped. He’d done what he had to do to protect everyone in the only
way he knew how. He couldn’t take it back, and he wouldn’t
apologize for it.

“Is Aslan busy?”
Torren smiled. It had been almost six days since Aslan had seen

his friends. With Halloween only two days away, he knew his baby
was nervous about what might happen. Galen would be a nice
surprise to lift his spirits. “I think he’s trying to teach Lynk and Raith
how to play the Xbox. I’m sure he could use a break. My brothers are
not exactly gracious students.”

Even as he spoke the words, Raith’s voice drifted down into the

basement, loud and angry. “You cheating little shit! How am I
supposed to blow you up if you won’t sit still?”

They all burst into laughter at Raith’s indignation. Then Galen

pushed up on his toes, kissed Bannon’s cheek, and waved before
jogging out of the room. Bannon watched him go before turning back
to Torren. “So, what’s the plan?”

He didn’t want to do it, but he was running out of time and

options. “When do Nicholas and Jonas arrive?”

“Tomorrow evenin’,” Bannon answered immediately.
Torren nodded. “Then Phillip McCarthy can wait. I’m hoping

Nicholas can either reason with him or give me something more to go
on.” He looked the Enforcer in the eye, took a deep breath, and let it
out slowly. “I need you to take me into your dreamscape, along with
Natalie.”

* * * *

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“You cheating little shit! How am I supposed to blow you up if

you won’t sit still?” Raith’s tongue was stuck between his teeth, and
he jerked his entire body as he tried unsuccessfully to blow up
Aslan’s car in front of him. “This blows!”

“This blows!” Wren sang, clapping his little hands together as he

bounced up and down on the cushion beside Raith.

“Raith!” Aslan admonished as he paused the game and knelt down

in front of the little pixie. They still had no idea where the boy’s
parents were or how to contact them. Thank the gods that Galen had
spotted him while searching for Torren’s brothers.

Bannon’s brothers had located the child and rescued him from a

pack of werewolves in Missouri, and then brought the orphan to The
Council. He was exceptionally bright for only five and cute as a
button. Aslan adored him but sometimes his heart would ache when
he looked at Wren. With his ebony curls and smoky eyes, he looked
so much like what he imagined Addison would have at that age—the
child Aslan had lost all those years ago.

“Wren, what did I tell you about repeating what your Uncle Raith

says?”

Wren wrinkled his nose and tilted his head to the side. “That I

shouldn’t say them, because Uncle Raith and Uncle Lynk say bad
stuff.”

A quiet chuckle reached his ears, and Aslan looked up to see

Galen standing near the end of the sofa, beaming from ear to ear. He
grinned back, pleasantly surprised to see his friend. Galen wasn’t
paying much attention to him, though. “Hello, Wren. Do you
remember me?”

“Galen!” Wren jumped up from his seat and darted across the

room, throwing his arms out for Galen to pick him up. “You didn’t
come back to play,” he pouted once he was in Galen’s arms.

“Did, too,” Galen replied and stuck his tongue out, earning him a

giggle from Wren. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

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“Yep.” He bounced a little and gave Galen a smacking kiss on the

cheek before looking over his shoulder at Aslan. “Can we play,
please?”

“Yeah,” Galen teased. “Please, Aslan? Can we play?”
“Sure,” Raith answered, passing over his controller. “I can’t get

this fu—ow!” He glared at Aslan as he rubbed the back of his head,
sending Lynk into peals of laughter. “I mean, I suck at—ow! Damn it,
Aslan! Ow! Stop hitting me!”

“Then stop swearing,” Aslan said calmly, crossing his arms over

his chest and mirroring Raith’s glare.

“Fine. I quit.” He pushed up from the sofa and stomped out of the

room like a petulant child. Lynk was laughing so hard his face was
bright red, and he seemed to be having trouble breathing as he
stumbled out of the room as well.

“Is Uncle Raith mad?” Wren whispered to Galen, his little face a

mask of worry.

Aslan crossed the room and held his arms out, delighted when

Wren reached for him immediately and curled into his chest. “Uncle
Raith is not mad at you. Sometimes you get mad when you lose a
game, right?” Wren nodded slowly. “That’s all it is. He’s just a sore
loser.”

“I don’t like when he yells.”
“Oh, honey, I know.” Aslan stroked his soft curls and swayed him

side to side. “No one here will ever hurt you.”

“My daddy hurt me,” Wren whispered and buried his face in

Aslan’s throat as he hiccupped. “I don’t want to go back. I want to
stay here with you.” His arms wound Aslan’s neck and clung to him
tightly. “Please. I’ll be good.”

Looking over at Galen, he saw the heartbreak he felt staring back

at him in his friend’s expression. Tears filled Galen’s eyes, but he
wiped them away roughly. With his arms full of a scared little boy,
Aslan didn’t have that option, so he just let his tears spill down his
cheeks.

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“Aslan?” Torren appeared in the room, Bannon right beside him,

and both looking very concerned. “Baby, what happened?”

Not wanting to alert Wren to his tears, Aslan just shook his head

and glanced down at the top of the pixie’s head. Understanding lit in
Torren’s eyes, and he hurried across the room to lift Wren out of
Aslan’s arms and cradle him gently to his own chest.

“Hey, little man. What’s with the long face?”
Watching Torren with Wren was beautiful, and it did little to stem

the flow of his tears. How the man could have ever thought he
wouldn’t be a good father was beyond Aslan. Torren was so
wonderful with Wren.

When Aslan had first arrived, the staff had been the ones caring

for Wren. Once he’d met the little boy, he had been enchanted, and
they’d been pretty much inseparable since. It might have taken a little
longer for Torren and his brothers to warm up to Wren, but once they
let their guards down it took precisely ten minutes for them to be
wrapped around the little guy’s tiny fingers.

“I want to stay here,” Wren answered, his fists clenched in

Torren’s shirt. “Can I please stay here? I’ll be good. I promise.”

“Don’t you want to see your mommy and daddy?” Torren spoke

lightly, but he’d already confessed to Aslan how attached he was to
Wren already.

Wren shook his head, making his dark hair flop around his face.

“Daddy yells a lot since Mommy went to Heaven. He’s not nice like
Uncle Raith, though.” Torren looked at Aslan in confusion, but he just
shook his head, wanting Wren to continue. “I promise I won’t get
hungry all the time or leave my toys on the floor,” he vowed. “I won’t
even cry when I have bad dreams.”

Small for his age, Wren looked even tinier in Torren’s massive

arms. But he wasn’t afraid. He clung to the witch, looking very
content to stay right where he was for as long as Torren would let
him. Aslan wasn’t sure his heart could contain so much love and not
split wide open, but he was willing to risk it.

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“Buddy, do you know your daddy’s name?” Torren asked quietly

as he patted Wren’s back. “Is there something that grown-ups call
him?”

“The cook called him Bastard.”
Aslan suppressed a snort and looked away quickly so that Wren

wouldn’t see his smile. Bannon wasn’t quiet as successful at hiding
his humor, however, as he chuckled quietly. He looked absolutely
smitten with the child—just like everyone else who’d met him.

“How about something else?” Torren asked, obviously trying not

to laugh as well. “And you shouldn’t say that word.”

“’Cause it’s a bad word?” Torren nodded, and Wren did as well.

“Some people called him Mr. Reeves.”

“That’s good,” Torren praised the boy. “I’m very proud of you for

remembering that.”

Wren’s sweet face lit up in a huge grin. “Can I stay now? Please,

please, pretty please?”

Torren chuckled and kissed him on the forehead. “I’m not going

to let anyone ever hurt you again. You got that?”

Nodding rapidly and still grinning from ear to ear, Wren threw his

arms around Torren’s neck and hugged his fiercely. “Thank you,
Torren. I love you.”

Torren looked surprised but recovered quickly, holding Wren

close and resting his cheek on the top of his head. “I love you, too,
little man.”

Just like that, Aslan was a bawling, blubbering mess all over

again. It really wasn’t his fault, though. In that moment, watching the
man he loved comforting the little boy in his arms, Aslan saw his
entire future laid out in front of him, and he wanted it so much that he
ached with it.

“You can never have that. Your mate will tire of you soon and

cast you aside like the others. Come back to us. We’re the only ones
who truly care about you.”

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It had been several days since he’d heard the snide, calculating

voice. With his heart overflowing with love, it was almost too easy to
tune the little cocksucker out, though.

“You’re wrong,” he said silently. “I have everything I need right

here.”

“Why is everyone crying?” Raith asked as he walked back into the

room with a small carton of chocolate milk in his hand.

“Who’s crying?” Galen’s voice cracked, and he wiped at his eyes

again.

“Are you still mad?” Wren asked, refusing to relinquish his hold

on Torren. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

Raith smiled and shook his head. “You didn’t make me mad, little

dude. Look, I brought you some chocolate milk.” He held it up and
winked. “So, am I forgiven?”

Wren wiggled until Torren passed him over to Raith. “Yes, now

gimme.”

Raith chuckled, but Aslan frowned. “What do you say?”
“Umm, gimme, please?”
Aslan snorted and rolled his eyes. “Close enough. Raith, make

sure he eats something with that.”

“I’ll race you for the last ice-cream bar.”
Wren squealed and darted out of the room once he was on his feet,

Raith hot on his heels.

“That’s not what I meant!” Aslan yelled after them. He huffed and

threw his hands in the air. “I give up.”

Torren wrapped him up in his arms and spun him around in a

circle. “Stop worrying so much, caro. We’ll make sure they eat their
vegetables and brush their teeth before bedtime.”

“You are an idiot.” Aslan was laughing as he pressed his mouth to

Torren’s, though. “I love you, too, you know.”

“Mmm,” Torren purred. “How much?”
“Take me to bed and I’ll show you.”

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Chapter Ten

After a quick check to be sure that their guests would keep an eye

on Wren, Torren tossed Aslan over his shoulder and raced down the
hall toward their suite. Reaching up, he swatted his little mate on his
upturned bottom. “What are you giggling about?”

“Impatient much?”
“I’ve been thinking about sinking my cock into your tight ass all

day. What do you think?” It wasn’t a lie. He’d been sporting a semi
since he woke up that morning, walking around on autopilot and
debating just blowing the whole day off and taking Aslan to bed. He
still needed to meet with Bannon, but he had a couple of hours yet,
and he intended to make every single minute count.

Stepping into their bedroom, he flung Aslan on the bed and

prowled up his slim body, growling seductively in the way he knew
drove his man wild.

“Gods, I love that,” Aslan moaned, dropping his head back on the

pillow to expose his neck and give Torren more room to play.
“Hurry.”

Torren had no intentions of doing anything so foolish. “I finally

have you right where I want you, and I plan to take my time.”
Spotting the scars on his mate’s neck, Torren traced them lightly,
frowning at the marks on the otherwise flawless skin. He’d seen them
before, but never asked how Aslan had come about them. “What is
this?”

Aslan tensed, lifting his head as though in slow motion to look

into Torren’s eyes. “It’s nothing. Just a couple of scars.”

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“And that was a brush-off if I ever heard one. You want to try that

again?” He arched an eyebrow in question, letting his lover know in
no uncertain terms that he wasn’t budging on this.

Aslan shrugged and pushed up to press his back against the

headboard but wouldn’t meet Torren’s gaze. “I was sold to a vampire
coven a while back that used me as their personal snack machine. One
night they got a little carried away.”

Anger roiled through him, boiling his blood that something had

happened to his mate and he’d not been there to protect him.
“Continue.”

“They ripped my neck open and basically drained me. I guess I

died after that. I woke up some time later tired, hungry, and hurting
everywhere.”

Aslan hadn’t been claimed or bonded to Torren at the time. How

had he come back from that? Logically, Torren knew that a witch had
to die and reawaken in order to become a Limina. Having been to the
other side and returning to the realm of the living was what created
the threshold in the first place.

“When you d–died.” It was almost too much for him to get the

word out, and the mere thought sent his heart racing in panic. Taking
a deep breath to calm his nerves, Torren tried again. “When you died,
where did you go?”

“Somewhere dark, cold, and lonely,” Aslan replied in a hollow

voice. “I don’t ever want to go back there.”

Purgatory. While a soul was trapped in Purgatory they could be

recalled to this realm. Who had called Aslan back, though? “Baby…”
Torren trailed off, unsure of how to phrase his question. It was likely
that whoever had pulled Aslan back from the abyss wouldn’t want to
draw attention to themselves. “Did you hear a voice or see anyone
while you were in that dark place?”

To his surprise, Aslan nodded slowly. “There was a man there at

the end. He was really hot.” Aslan giggled when Torren growled at

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him. He didn’t like his mate thinking about other men like that. “He
looked kind of like you, actually.”

Torren perked up at the information. “Like me how?”
“Big, dark hair, these sexy black eyes.” He laughed and swatted at

Torren when he growled again. “He had a tattoo.” Aslan rubbed his
right arm from shoulder to elbow.

Swallowing hard, Torren tried not to get his hopes up. “Did he say

anything? Did he tell you his name?”

“I think so, but I can’t remember it.”
“Think, baby. This is really important.”
Aslan bobbed his head again, his eyebrows scrunching together as

he concentrated. “It was a funny name. I thought he’d mispronounced
it or I’d heard him wrong.” He sucked his bottom lip between his
teeth and chewed it vigorously. Then he started mewling softly,
rocking himself back and forth and slapping his palm against the side
of his head in frustration.

Taking his mate’s wrist, Torren gently pulled his hand away from

his head and drew his lover into his arms. “Hush now, caro. It’s
okay.”

“You said it was important.” Aslan started thumping his forehead

against Torren’s chest. “God, I’m so fucking useless.”

“That’s enough,” Torren said firmly. He grabbed Aslan’s chin and

forced his head back so that he could look into his eyes. “You are
without a doubt the most amazing person I know. Besides myself, you
are the only person who I trust unconditionally. No matter what
happens or what we’re up against, I know that you’ll always have my
back. In my book, that is far from useless.”

While essentially the same at his core, this reincarnation of Aslan

was still someone new, with unique feelings, thoughts, concerns, and
uncertainties. Torren had been so happy to find his Infinity that he
hadn’t stopped to consider that. He was treating Aslan as though he
was the same man he’d been over a hundred and fifty years ago,
which he realized wasn’t fair to either of them.

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The connection was still there, however, the bond between them

as strong as ever. Since finding the balancing half of his soul, he’d
been less gruff and far easier to get along with—according to his
brothers, anyway. He still had a hard time placing his faith in others,
though. Not so the case with Aslan. The man owned him, and Torren
was more than pleased with his possession.

The memory of love during their lifetimes was comforting but

unrealistic. Aslan was a different man, and therefore Torren would
need to love him differently. It was a learning process, but he couldn’t
deny the warmth that spread through him each time Aslan did
something as simple as smile or hold his hand.

Part of him wanted to blame the whole thing on their shared soul.

A much larger part wanted to punch him in the mouth for being an
idiot. Fate had designed Aslan to be perfect for him in every way,
shape, and form from his small, lithe body to his endearingly quirky
personality.

Somewhere deep inside, Torren had pushed away and denied a

seemingly ingrained need to care for someone. Up until a week ago,
he’d been certain that he didn’t need anyone but himself. The truth of
the matter was that Aslan needed his strength, and Torren needed to
surrender some of his rigidly held control. They were so well matched
that their union could have only been formed by destiny. And who
was he to deny the carefully set path rolled out before him?

“Did I lose you?”
Torren felt a soft hand cup his jaw and his lover’s thumb brush

across his bottom lip. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he smiled
tenderly and pressed his mouth to Aslan’s. No matter what form the
man took, it was so easy to love him. “Sorry, baby. I was just
thinking.”

“Good things, I hope.”
Sliding his hands beneath the hem of Aslan’s shirt, Torren pressed

his palms flat against the warm expanse of his mate’s belly as he
nibbled at his delectable lips. “Definitely good.” His voice was thick,

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husky, and barely recognizable to his own ears. He didn’t miss the
shiver that rippled through his lover, either, and it made him grin.

Aslan let out a shaky breath and snaked his arms around Torren’s

neck to pull him closer. Rolling to the side, Torren pressed his lover
into the mattress and slipped Aslan’s shirt over his head to reveal the
taut, quivering muscles beneath. Insinuating a hand between their
tightly pressed bodies, he massaged the growing bulge straining
against Aslan’s zipper with his palm as he attacked the fragrant skin
at the base of his throat.

Humping up against Torren’s hand, Aslan released a series of

sexy little whimpers that seriously tested Torren’s self-control. He
wanted to take his time and enjoy exploring his mate, but those erotic
sounds pouring from Aslan’s kiss-swollen lips went straight to his
cock, causing it to jerk almost violently within its confinements.

“More, more, more,” Aslan chanted, grabbing Torren’s hand and

pressing it more firmly to his swollen dick as he rocked harder and
faster. His eyes glazed with mindless need, his skin flushed with
arousal, and as his heartbeat accelerated, so did Torren’s.

Deciding to give them both a small measure of relief, he

whispered a few carefully chosen words and groaned when their
clothes vanished, leaving their damp, heated skin to press together
without barriers. Torren’s cock wept in gratitude, dripping a generous
amount of pre-cum from the slit and onto Aslan’s inner thigh,
allowing for a slippery glide as Torren thrust against him.

“Oh, fuck, yes! Your hand is so hot,” Aslan moaned. “Feels

good.”

Torren’s hand now held his lover’s naked cock, jacking him

quickly as the length pulsed inside his fist. The spongy crown
glistened with clear drops of liquid, and Aslan’s lower abdominals
flexed as he writhed under Torren’s touch. Giving the rigid shaft a
final squeeze, Torren released his hold, moving Aslan’s hand to
replace his. “Hold this for me.”

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Half chuckling and half moaning, Aslan grabbed his cock and

stroked fast, his hand a mere blur as it raced up and down his length.
His muscles tensed, and he rolled from side to side, bucking his hips
up occasionally as the most exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain
covered his face.

Sensing that he didn’t have much time before his lover erupted

like Mount Vesuvius, Torren dove across the bed and grabbed the
lube from the nightstand with a triumphant cry. It would only take a
fairly elementary spell to have Aslan stretched and slicked, but it felt
kind of like cheating. He loved preparing his mate and fighting the
slow buildup of sexual tension until he felt he’d go mad with need.

Coating his throbbing cock first, he then dribbled more of the gel

over his fingers and tossed the bottle to the side. Aslan was moaning
in earnest, his eyes squeezed tight as he thrust up into his tight fist.
Legs spread wide and feet planted on the mattress, he unknowingly
held himself open to Torren’s questing fingers.

They were both too far gone for slow teasing, so Torren skipped

the preliminaries. Separating his mate’s muscled globes with his slick
digits, he found the prize he sought and pushed into Aslan’s clenching
hole with two fingers, straight up to the second knuckles.

“Are you going to do this alone, or do you think you can wait for

me?”

Aslan’s movement slowed only marginally, and he didn’t even

open his eyes as he spoke. “I’ll wait if you hurry the fuck up and get
that gorgeous cock in my ass.”

“Damn, I love your dirty little mouth.” Adding a third finger, he

stretched his lover as quickly as he could without hurting him, his
control teetering precariously on the edge.

“Torren, please!”
He loved the begging more than he loved the dirty talk. Unable to

wait any longer, Torren extracted his fingers and lined the head of his
dick up with his lover’s pink hole. “Ready?”

“Fuck me, damn it!”

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Guess that’s a yes. Surging forward, his eyes rolled to the back of

his head as his cock was encased in the tightest, most incredible heat
he’d ever felt. Aslan’s inner walls contracted around his length,
massaging rhythmically and sucking him in to the root.

Swiveling his hips, he grinded his groin against Aslan’s pert ass

while he gripped the back of his lover’s thighs, digging his fingers in
as he fought to hold back his orgasm. Pulling out until only the flared
crown was trapped inside Aslan’s clutching passage, he paused for a
heartbeat before driving back inside the snug channel.

Aslan’s head rolled from side to side on the pillow, his chest

heaved with his rapid breathing, and his damp skin practically
glittered in the light from the bedside table. Soft cries and deep moans
reverberated around the room, bouncing off the walls and hitting
Torren like lightning bolts of pure pleasure.

His cock swelled further, pulsing with his heartbeat as he thrust

harder, faster, driving deep as though searching out his lover’s soul.
Pushing Aslan’s knees back toward his ears, Torren practically folded
the man in half as he loomed above him, hammering into his body at a
furious pace.

Sweat dripped down his nose, and his hair clung to his neck and

shoulders. His chest rumbled and primal grunts huffed from his lips
with every demanding plunge. The need to possess his mate, to crawl
inside of him and take up residence pounded inside his head, sizzling
his receptors and frying his brain.

With only that thought in mind, he wound one arm around Aslan’s

waist, jerked him off the bed, and spun them so that he had the
smaller man pinned against the wall. “Hands over your head,” he
ordered.

Aslan’s eyes went wide, but he quickly complied, throwing his

arms up over his head and crossing his wrists. Torren pinned them to
the wall with one hand while he kept a firm hold around Aslan’s hips
with the other. “Let me in,” he growled before scraping his teeth over
his mate’s collarbone.

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Aslan tilted his hips up as the tip of Torren’s shaft found his

lover’s slick opening without any guidance from him. Just the feel of
his cock kissing the tight ring of muscles snapped any remnants of
self-control he harbored, and he drove forward until his balls slapped
against Aslan’s heated flesh.

It wasn’t enough. He couldn’t get close enough, deep enough. His

hips jerked in rapid-fire movements, but it wasn’t fast enough. Aslan
writhed against the faded blue wall, choking moans pouring from
him, but that wasn’t enough, either. Torren wanted him screaming.

Cheating or not, Torren mumbled a simple spell to keep Aslan’s

arms bound to the wall, freeing his hand for other pursuits. Aslan
gasped and the muscles in his arms flexed as he pulled against the
invisible restraints. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he
groaned long and low, surrendering himself to Torren.

Curling both elbows under Aslan’s knees, Torren rolled him until

his spine curved then pressed his thighs wide apart. “Stay,” he
grunted, and Aslan froze in position.

“Oh. My. Gods!”
It wasn’t quite a scream, but they were getting closer. Satisfied

that his lover wasn’t going anywhere, Torren began an all-out assault,
plowing into his clenching channel as he used his fingers to pinch and
tug at Aslan’s nipples. His mate’s cries grew in volume, and Torren
could practically see his heart thumping against ribs, but he wanted
more.

Slipping a hand between them, he used two fingers to rub over the

tight muscles stretched around his cock. With his other hand he
fondled Aslan’s sac, tugging his balls gently away from his body and
releasing them.

“Oh, damn…I can’t…I’m gonna…”
His mate had been reduced to a mindless pile of babbling goo—

just the way Torren wanted him. Abandoning the exploration of his
lover’s balls, he palmed Aslan’s dripping cock and stroked him in
time with his trusts. As his own climax barreled down on him, he

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pressed one finger alongside his shaft and pushed inside Aslan’s
tunnel.

There was the scream he was looking for. Aslan’s body bucked

and shuddered, his scream of ecstasy loud enough to be heard by
anyone in the house as he unleashed a river of cum to splash against
his belly and roll down his sides.

The sight of his debauched angel, the smell of his release, the

sounds of his pleasure, and the unyielding hold his ass held on
Torren’s cock finally pushed him over the edge. He roared until the
walls shook while he jerked and shuddered, pouring his essence into
his mate’s channel and filling his depths.

Once he’d drifted down from his blissful high, Torren released his

holding spell on Aslan, catching him in his arms and pulling him
close. “Thank you.”

“I can’t feel my legs,” Aslan replied, but he had the goofy little

smile on his face that only the well fucked could wear. “Damn, that
was amazing.”

Chuckling softly, Torren walked them to the bathroom and

propped Aslan up against the sink while he started the shower. He
didn’t know how much time had passed, and didn’t really care, but he
did need to speak with Bannon before the man gave up on him and
left. While it would be nice to wrap himself around Aslan and forget
the rest of the world existed, he had too many responsibilities waiting
on him to completely disappear.

“Thane,” Aslan whispered from behind him.
Torren froze and closed his eyes on a prayer, hoping like hell he’d

heard his mate correctly. “Where did you hear that name?” He turned
slowly and studied Aslan, giving him a hint of a smile so he knew
Torren wasn’t angry, even if his voice was a little gruff.

“That’s who was there in the dark place. I thought I had to be

hearing him wrong, and it was Blaine or something, but I’m sure he
said Thane. Do you know him?”

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Closing the short distance between them, Torren cradled Aslan’s

face in his hands and kissed him on the lips. “Thane is my brother.”
He didn’t want to push after Aslan’s reaction earlier, but he needed to
know. “Was he there with you at the coven?”

“I never saw him.” Aslan’s eyes looked so sorrowful as he shook

his head slowly. “I’m sorry, Torren.”

“Hush now.” He debated asking anything further, but in the end,

he just couldn’t stop himself. “Do you know where the coven is?” Not
only was there a chance that they still held Thane, but the bastards
needed to be brought to justice for what they’d done to Aslan and
probably countless others.

“I think it was here in Wyoming.”
Torren’s heart beat a little faster at the information as he stepped

away and tugged Aslan into the shower. “What makes you say that?”

Aslan shrugged. “I didn’t travel very far when I was moved to that

basement where I met Jory and the others.”

He didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to know the answer. The words

came without his permission anyway. “What happened to you there?”

“Nothing good,” Aslan whispered while he lathered his hair with

the shampoo. His eyes dropped, and he had to take a deep breath
before he continued. “Jory and Willow got the worst of it, though.
The rest of us just got punched around and used as blood bags
mostly.”

“Aslan.” Torren reached for him, but Aslan stepped back from his

advance.

“I thought this was The Council house. Where the hell is

everyone?” Aslan changed the subject, effectively letting Torren
know that the previous conversation was closed to further discussion.

Deciding not to push, Torren allowed the topic change. “This is

one of The Council houses. They have several around the world. To
answer your question, Camdin hasn’t left his room since he got here.
Elder Means doesn’t care for the Braddocks much. He disappeared
the day I moved in.” He paused and frowned down at his toes. “And

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Layke has been suspiciously absent lately.” He wondered what the
other elder was up to, but figured he’d find out sooner or later without
too much digging on his part. It wasn’t like he didn’t already have
enough shit to deal with.

Washed, rinsed, and dried, Torren wrapped a towel around his

waist and stepped into his bedroom right as Wren came bursting
through the door.

“Wren, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to knock.”

He’d meant to sound stern, but he doubted he’d pulled it off well. The
kid was just too damn cute standing there with his wide eyes and
bright smile. From the moment Aslan had waltzed into his office and
dropped Wren in his lap, Torren had lost his heart.

“Sorry,” Wren answered, not looking it at all. “There’s a big

doggy in the living room.” He held his arms wide to show off how
big. Then he put his hand to his mouth and giggled. “He’s holding
Uncle Lynk and licking him.”

“Ah, shit.” Torren turned to his dresser but paused and looked

over his shoulder at Wren. “Don’t repeat that.”

Wren giggled again and bobbed his head up and down obediently.

Aslan waltzed out of the bathroom with his own towel wrapped
around him and beamed when he saw Wren. “What are you doing
here, little monster?”

“Big doggy!” Wren repeated as he bounced a little where he

stood.

Aslan arched an eyebrow at Torren and shook his head. “You

handle that. I’ll get Wren ready for bed.”

“I want to pet the doggy.” Wren pouted, his little lip sticking out

and trembling pathetically.

Torren had no idea who was in his living room, but he wasn’t

letting Wren near them. “What if we get you your own puppy?” he
found himself asking. God, he was such a pushover. One little quiver
of that pink lip and he was putty in the kid’s hands.

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“Yay!” Wren clapped his hands together and darted from the

room.

“I’ve got him.” Aslan threw on a pair of sweats and chased after

the tiny pixie. He did pause at the door, however, and threw Torren a
wink over his shoulder. “I want a puppy, too.”

“Okay.” What the fuck? Before he could recall the words, Aslan

had disappeared, his laughter ringing down the hallway. Torren just
hung his head and sighed. “I am so screwed.”

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Chapter Eleven

Aslan hurried down the hall to the living room to find out what all

the commotion was about. “What’s going on?”

Raith had Wren perched on his hip and was laughing so hard he

could barely breathe as he pointed across the room.

A huge, russet-colored werewolf held Lynk in his arms while he

licked up the side of his neck and rumbled in what Aslan hoped was
approval. Lynk didn’t look to be a willing participant as he struggled
against the wolf’s hold, hurtling every insult under the sun at him.
Bannon stood off to the side, shaking with his own amusement as
Galen danced around the werewolf, swatting him with a rolled up
newspaper.

“Put him down,” Galen ordered, stomping his foot. “Right now,

Kieran. I mean it!” He whacked the wolf on the nose again. “Now!”

Kieran looked up and huffed at him before going back to nuzzling

and licking at Lynk. Bannon roared with laughter, Raith had turned a
brilliant shade of red, and even Wren was giggling madly.

“Let me go, you stupid, overgrown, idiotic fur ball!” Lynk jerked

one way and then the other. He kicked out, landing a solid blow to
Kieran’s knee, but the beast didn’t even flinch.

Aslan had a feeling that things were about to get ugly, though.

“Raith, go put Wren down for the night. He can take a bath in the
morning.”

Still chuckling, the witch nodded and carried Wren off to get him

ready for bed. Aslan had to admit that he was proud, though a little
shocked, at how quickly the Braddock brothers had fallen into the
routine of caring for the child.

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“What the hell is going on in here?” Torren roared, making Aslan

jump as he swung around to look up at his mate.

“Umm, I’m going to guess that Lynk is Kieran’s mate. And he

doesn’t look like he’ll be letting go any time soon.”

He was afraid Torren might choke at first. The man stared at his

brother trapped in the arms of the wolf for a full minute before he
doubled over in laughter. It was the first time Aslan had seen him
really and truly laugh. It did funny things to his belly and made him
feel all warm and mushy on the inside. His big, scary lover was
utterly gorgeous when he laughed, and Aslan decided he was one
lucky man.

While Torren and Raith were giants compared to him, Lynk

wasn’t much taller or wider than Aslan. Kieran in shifted form
completely dwarfed the man as he held him in his furry arms and
continued to stroke Lynk’s neck with his impossibly long tongue.

“Kieran Delaney, I’m going to call your sister,” Galen threatened

with his hands on his hips. When that didn’t work, he went to hit
Kieran with the newspaper again. It was all very hilarious until he
missed and caught Lynk on the shoulder instead.

Aslan pressed himself flat against the wall and covered his ears

with his hands as Kieran let out an ear-piercing roar. Setting Lynk on
his feet, he pushed the man behind him and growled viciously at
Galen. Bannon was there in the blink of an eye, grabbing Galen up
and jerking him away from the beast. Aslan slid down to the floor and
trembled violently as all hell broke loose, sure that someone was
going to get hurt before they got Kieran under control.

“Oh, for the love of Christmas,” Lynk huffed. He marched right

around Kieran to stand between him and Bannon and shoved him in
the chest. “Would you knock it off already?” Aslan was about to beg
Torren to intervene when Lynk did something he’d never have
expected. He grabbed a hunk of fur on Kieran’s chest, jerked it
roughly, and tilted his head to the side to expose his throat. “Just get it
over with.”

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There was no pause, no confusion or awkward moment of

indecision. Kieran jerked Lynk into his arms and struck hard and fast,
embedding his canines in the smaller man’s neck. Lynk cried out, but
it didn’t sound like he was in pain. Aslan was still extremely grateful
that Torren didn’t need to bite him, though. No matter that Lynk
seemed to be enjoying himself, it didn’t look very pleasant to Aslan.

Extracting his fangs and licking over his mating mark, Kieran

began to shrink as he slowly returned to his human skin. When he had
shifted fully, he reached up to cup Lynk’s cheek, wearing the sappiest
grin on his face. All he got for his efforts was a right hook to the jaw,
though.

“Now go away,” Lynk said icily before spinning around and

storming out of the room like an angry buffalo. Kieran just rubbed at
his jaw with a perplexed expression on his face.

“You aren’t even safe in your own home,” the cruel voice

whispered in Aslan’s mind.

“Maybe you should be going home now,” the female coaxed, her

voice dripping with honey.

“Yes, indeed. You have no use for these barbarians.” The other

male voice sounded highly agitated, which wasn’t at all normal. “Did
you see that beast almost make a meal out of your friend? What kind
of ruffians are these? We must go at once.”

“And your gallant knight didn’t even try to protect you.” This

voice was new and made Aslan’s heart hammer as he trembled
violently. “Why look at him now. He hasn’t even noticed you here on
the floor. Perhaps it’s only your body he loves.” Aslan jumped and bit
down on his tongue to cut off his yelp when invisible hands began
caressing his chest and abs. “What a lovely body it is, too.”

He brushed inconspicuously at his chest, trying to knock the

nonexistent hand away. This new voice wasn’t as cold as the first, but
just as inauspicious—just as ominous. “He doesn’t love you.
Remember how he let you die? He will always put himself first, put
his needs above yours. Remember.”

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Unsolicited memories assailed him, flashing through in his mind’s

eye like highlights of a movie clip.

The rain beat down on them as they were shoved unceremoniously

to the sodden ground. The torrential downpour wasn’t enough to
extinguish the flames that engulfed their home, though.

A baby’s cry rose up over the wail of the wind and the pounding

of the rain. Aslan fought against his captors, struggling to get to his
feet and to his child. A sudden backhand sent him flying sideways,
face-first into a puddle of icy water.

“Give us the Regelatis!” one of the men ordered. His hand fisted

in Torren’s hair, jerking his head back on his shoulders. “Give it to
us or he dies.” His head tilted unnecessarily toward Aslan.

In the next instance a big hand grabbed his chin to yank his head

up, and the cold tip of a blade pressed against his throat. Aslan
ceased his struggles, begging Torren with his eyes to just give them
what they wanted. He wasn’t afraid to die, but he was terrified of
what they’d do to Addison.

He could see it in his mate’s expression, feel it in the

overwhelming guilt and sorrow that flowed from Torren and into him.
Torren wasn’t going to give them the book.

Coming out of his memory, Aslan felt like he was surfacing from

a frigid lake as he sucked in deep breaths to his aching lungs. His
chest felt heavy as though his heart was ripping in two, and unbidden
tears pooled in his eyes.

“Come home with us,” the new voice whispered to him, and

Aslan recognized it as that of the man who’d carried Addison away in
the storm. “We can protect you. Love you. We can give you what he
can’t.”

Unseen hands began stroking him again—along his throat, over

his chest, up his arms. Ignoring the touches, Aslan lifted his head and
looked across the room to find Torren and Kieran snarling in each
other’s faces, standing so close that their noses almost touched.

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Off to the side, Galen was stroking Bannon’s chest, whispering to

him and obviously trying to calm him. Aslan didn’t think it was really
working, though. Bannon looked about two seconds away from
launching himself at the werewolf.

Their shouts, growls, and snarls all mingled together in a

cacophony of noise that Aslan didn’t understand. He didn’t register
any words, though he knew insults were flying between Torren and
Kieran. Nothing made sense to him, and he was so tired.

“Sleep, Aslan.” Invisible fingers stroked through his hair. “We

can give you what you need.”

Just as he was drifting off, a warm weight settled in his lap, and

small hands squished his cheeks together. “I’m scared,” Wren
whispered, his eyes brimming with tears. “Torren is very mad.”

Those smoky, gray eyes were like a lifeline, wrapping around his

heart and pulling him back from the void. Cradling the child to his
chest, Aslan stroked his hair and kissed the top of his head. “Yes, he
is. Grownups get angry sometimes, sweetheart. That doesn’t mean
that we would ever hurt you or that we don’t still love you.”

Wren nodded and burrowed in closer, curling his knees up to his

chest and resting his head on Aslan’s shoulder. “Can I sleep in your
room?”

“Tell him no.”
“Of course you can. Do you want to get your piggy?” It was the

ugliest damn pig that Aslan had ever seen, and he couldn’t fathom
why Wren loved the thing so much, but whatever made the boy happy
was fine by him.

Wren nodded eagerly, his smile coming fast and easy.
Getting his feet under him, Aslan started to stand, but sharp,

sickening pain exploded in his temples, causing him to cry out as his
back arched away from the wall. He had just enough presence of mind
to tighten his arms around Wren to keep the child from being thrown
to the floor, but it was a near thing.

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The pain subsided in his head, but before he could even catch his

breath, it felt as though white-hot pokers were rammed through both
of his sides. Aslan screamed again, throwing his head back against the
wall and releasing Wren as sweat coated his entire body. He’d never
felt anything so painful, and had serious doubts that he’d live through
it.

“I can make it all go away. Just let go. Come home, Aslan.”
Wren climbed back up in his lap and slapped at his cheeks.

“Aslan?” His sweet little voice was so full of concern.

He wanted to answer the summons, but the nonexistent spears in

his sides chose that moment to twist, and Aslan grinded his teeth
together until he was sure they would shatter to keep from screaming
again. If he did what the voice said, it could all stop. But at what
price?

Luckily, he didn’t get a chance to find out. Strong but gentle arms

slid under him, lifting both him and Wren into Torren’s protective
embrace. Those soft lips that were made for leisurely kissing brushed
over his forehead, murmuring comforting words to him. Wren’s tiny
hands landed on either side of Aslan’s face as he leaned up to mash
their noses together.

“You all better?”
Though he didn’t think it was possible, Aslan found himself

chuckling quietly. “Yeah, little man. I’m all better now.”

Wren wrinkled his nose adorably and nodded once as he petted

Aslan’s cheek like he would a cat or a puppy. “Do you want a Band-
Aid?”

Torren’s laughter rumbled through his chest as he pulled them

closer to his heart and started walking down the hallway. Kieran’s
angry voice drew him to a stop, though, and Aslan squeezed his eyes
closed, praying the idiot would just go away.

“I’m not finished talking to you.”
“Well, I am finished. We can talk later.”
“Torren, this is important. I need your help on this!”

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Torren growled under his breath. “Then I suggest you call a

repairman, because my give-a-damn is busted. Fix your own mess,
Kieran.” Then he turned back and left the man sputtering behind them
as he carried them to their bedroom.

“Aslan said I get to sleep here.” Wren lifted his head and pointed

at the big king-size bed. His expression held a hint of stubbornness,
but Aslan knew he’d relent without argument if Torren said no.

Of course, Torren had no resistance to the little imp. “Do you

want me to get Mr. Pokey?” What a ridiculous name for a stuffed pig,
but Wren had refused to rename him.

“Please?”
Torren winked and settled them both in bed, waiting for them to

get comfortable before he pulled the blankets up around their
shoulders. “I’ll be right back.”

Aslan sighed in contentment when Wren snuggled up to his chest

and rested his little hand on the side of Aslan’s neck. The boy’s next
words brought a hitch to his breathing and tears to his eyes. “I love
you,” Wren whispered around a yawn as though it was no big deal at
all.

“I love you, too,” Aslan returned, trying to be just as nonchalant,

but thinking he probably didn’t pull it off very well.

Wren was almost asleep when Torren returned, but he blinked

open his eyes and patted the mattress behind him, indicating that was
where Torren should sleep. With a gentle smile, Torren held up one
finger before he grabbed a pair of sleep pants and disappeared into the
bathroom.

Finally dressed for bed, he crawled under the blankets and draped

an arm over Wren to rest on Aslan’s hip. “You okay, baby?”

Feeling the warm weight of his mate’s hand on him and listening

to Wren’s soft snoring, Aslan reached over and skimmed his finger
down the slope of Torren’s nose. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to
be.”

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Torren looked concerned, but he simply bobbed his head and

nestled down on his pillow. “I love you, caro.”

It was the first time that he had said it directly, and chasing

quickly behind Wren’s declaration, Aslan wasn’t sure how much
more he could take. The two were trying to kill him. So, he did what
anyone would do in his place. He grinned like the cat that ate the
canary. “I love you, too.”

His heart full to overflowing, Aslan closed his eyes and joined

Wren in a peaceful sleep—the stuffed pig, Mr. Pokey, forgotten at the
foot of the bed.

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Chapter Twelve

Waiting until he was sure Aslan was fast asleep, Torren eased out

of bed and stood, just staring down at the two people who had become
his entire world in a very short amount of time. They hadn’t talked
about it at length, but Torren knew how much Aslan loved the little
boy in his arms. His own heart melted into a liquid puddle every time
Wren smiled at him.

After hearing the pixie’s accounts of his parents, Torren knew

he’d fight tooth and nail to keep Wren from having to go back there.
With any luck, maybe he could get some information from the pack
alpha they’d rescued Wren from. Hopefully, it would be enough to
press charges against a certain Mr. Reeves.

What would become of Wren after that, though? Was The Council

house an appropriate place for the little one to grow up? After the
stunt Kieran had pulled in the living room, Torren had his doubts.
Still, something ached in his chest at the thought of giving up Wren.

While he’d tried to remain impervious to the child’s charms, he

had failed miserably. The minute he’d been plopped down in Torren’s
lap, Wren had offered a sweet smile, traced the tattoo on Torren’s
forearm, and admonished him for drawing on himself. Torren fell in
love instantly.

Wishing he could stay in bed but knowing he had important

business to attend to, he scrubbed at his face and bit back a sigh of
longing. Not willing to risk waking either of his sleepyheads, he
tiptoed from the room dressed only in his sleep pants, and closed the
door quietly behind him.

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Entering the living room, he was pleased to see that someone had

at least found Kieran some clothes. While nudity was a common
occurrence amongst shifters and weres—and apparently didn’t bother
them in the least—Torren wasn’t fond of naked men running about
his house with Aslan and Wren there.

“How is Aslan?” Galen asked the minute he saw him. He fidgeted

nervously, his eyes shining with desperation for news about his
friend.

“He and Wren are sleeping. He seems okay, but I’ll talk to him

more when he wakes up.” Torren had been holding back, not wanting
to frighten Aslan, but after the episode earlier, he knew he couldn’t
wait any longer. The voices had been quiet for the last few days, but
obviously, they were back with a vengeance.

“You need to tell him,” Raith said from the sofa.
Torren wasn’t in the least surprised to find Lynk absent from the

room. That was another mess he’d have to deal with, but it wasn’t
high priority at the moment. “I will when he wakes up. Let him rest
right now.”

“I just hung around to apologize,” Kieran said from near the door.

“I swear I have no idea what happened. I just came over to talk about
the pups, and then Lynk walked in the room…” He frowned down at
the beige carpet and shook his head. “I’m going to go, but I’d like to
talk to you later.”

Since Torren needed Lynk’s help, and he doubted his brother

would acquiesce with Kieran there, he nodded at the werewolf. “I’ll
give you a call.” The man was trying to be civil, and Torren figured
the least he could do was meet him halfway. “Even though the twins
aren’t mine, my offer still stands. I will help in any way I can, but I’ve
kind of got my hands full right now.”

Kieran bobbed his head in understanding. “Yeah, I got it. We still

have a lot of questions, and I’m hoping you can help.”

“And I will,” Torren assured him. “In the meantime, try giving

Alpha Taylor a call. From what I hear, I think he might be able to help

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you find the pups’ biological father.” For whatever reason—and
they’d need to find that answer as well—everyone, including the
witch, Natalie, had thought the children belonged to Torren, so there
had been no reason to go searching for their parentage. They certainly
had reason now, though.

“I’ll do that. Thanks for not killing me, and I am sorry about

Lynk.” Kieran looked a little sad as he turned toward the door. “He’s
never going to forgive me.” Then he was gone before Torren could
offer any kind of condolences.

It was probably for the best, since he had no clue what he was

going to say. Lynk was pissed, but if he was Kieran’s mate, that
meant Kieran Delaney was Lynk’s Infinity. He could fight it all he
wanted, but Torren knew from experience that his brother wouldn’t be
able to resist the pull forever.

“Are ya still wantin’ to dreamwalk?”
Pushing away thoughts of his brother’s less than romantic

claiming, Torren turned to Bannon and inclined his head. “Yeah, let’s
get this over with.”

“I’m coming, too,” Galen said at once, crossing his arms over his

chest defiantly. “You know I can help, so don’t even give me any
lip.”

Bannon growled and narrowed his eyes, but it was obvious that he

would give in. “Wouldn’t even think of it, now would I, darlin’?”

It wouldn’t do for him to laugh, but damn, it was funny to watch

the big shifter bow before his much smaller mate. Was Torren like
that with Aslan? He thought he probably was, and surprisingly, was
more than okay with it. “So, how do we do this?”

* * * *

Tranquilizing himself was a bitch, and Torren just knew his mate

was going to throw a fit when he found out. Since they didn’t have the

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special sleep drops that Bannon normally used, they didn’t have many
other options, though.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t get some small measure of

satisfaction out of shooting Natalie Halstead…even if it was just with
a sedative dart. Seeing the vile, manipulating tramp crumple to the
floor with the sneer still on her lips was a surprisingly enjoyable
experience.

Being inside Bannon’s fucked-up, creepy-ass dream, however,

was not. “What is this place?”

“Bannon has issues,” Galen answered immediately. He shrugged

when Bannon snorted at him. “I’ve learned to just go with it.”

“You can create anything you want here?”
“Aye, for the most part. Is there somethin’ you’re needin’?”
Torren looked down at his nude chest, cotton sleep pants, and bare

toes. “Some different clothes would be nice.”

He should have known to be more careful in his request. The next

thing he knew, he was dressed in a formfitting, white halter dress with
pink and green polka dots. The hem barely reached to midthigh, but
Bannon hadn’t stopped there. The white go-go boots that reached up
to his knees were definitely a nice touch.

Galen grabbed his ribs and fell against Bannon, howling with

laughter until he was gasping for breath. Bannon held his mate up and
just waggled his eyebrows, giving Torren a loud wolf whistle. “Shake
it, darlin’!”

“You’re an idiot.” Torren crossed his arms over his chest and

glared, though he was fighting to hold in his own amusement. It had
been ages since he’d just joked around and had fun with…friends.
With some shock, he realized that’s exactly what the residence of
Haven had become to him. Whether he’d meant for it to work out that
way or not, he now had friends—which meant more people depending
on him to keep their asses safe.

“Oh, crap, I wish Aslan could see this,” Galen managed to get out

through his mirth.

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In the next moment, a sleep-tousled Aslan came shuffling in

through the fog surrounding the clearing they stood in, rubbing at his
eyes and looking totally confused. The moment his gaze landed on
Torren, all bleariness fled, and he arched an eyebrow as though
Torren was in some serious trouble.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed, love?”
Busted. Torren shot a murderous look at Bannon before

smoothing his hands over his abs and grinning brightly at his lover. “I
have a pretty dress.”

All three men in the circle created by the fog fell on their asses

and laughed until Torren though they’d rupture something or possibly
pass out from lack of oxygen. Their shared camaraderie felt good, and
Torren was happy to be a part of it. Still, they needed to get things
moving, and he had no desire for Aslan to be anywhere near Natalie
when they did.

Clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention, he motioned for his

lover to come to him. Aslan popped up off the ground and jogged
across the clearing to stand in front of him. The dress disappeared,
replaced by a plain, black T-shirt and a pair of well-worn, faded jeans
while a pair of black hiking boots adorned his feet. “Much better,”
Aslan purred, running his hands over Torren’s chest. “That dress
made your ass look big.”

Chuckling quietly, Torren slid his knuckles under Aslan’s chin

and tilted his head up for a kiss. “You can’t be here, Aslan. Don’t
argue with me on this one. It’s dangerous, but we’ll discuss why in
the morning.”

“It’s because of the voices, right?”
So intuitive. “Yes, and I’m sorry that I haven’t told you before

now. I’ll explain everything when you wake up, okay? Can you trust
me for just a little longer?” It was asking a lot considering the secrets
he’d been keeping, but Torren hoped for the best.

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“I’ll always trust you,” Aslan whispered as he took Torren’s hand

and placed a kiss in the palm. “Will you come back to bed when
you’re finished slaying the wicked witch?”

“You couldn’t keep me away if you tried.” He clenched his fist as

if holding onto the kiss Aslan had bestowed upon him and pressed his
hand over his heart. It was a sappy and sentimental move, but it
matched the emotions swirling inside of him. “Go rest now, caro. I’ll
be there soon.”

“Don’t make me miss you for too long.” That’s all he said before

looking over his shoulder at Bannon, giving him a brief nod, and
strolling back toward the edge of the circle. The fog swirled as he
stepped through it then rolled back into position, knitting itself back
together as Aslan disappeared, taking Torren’s heart with him.

“Are ya ready then?” Bannon asked, pulling Torren out of his

melancholy. “Should I bring the witch now?”

“There are at least five witches in this house,” he teased. “I’m

here, one just left, and I’m pretty sure that two others are still awake.”

Bannon huffed and rolled his eyes. “You’re as bad as Galen, ya

are. You’re knowin’ the witch I’m meanin’.”

“Yeah, let’s do this.”
The words were no more out of his mouth when Natalie walked

through the fog, her eyes locking on Torren with an understated
hatred. Her blonde hair curled in ringlets over her shoulders, her
complexion as smooth and flawless as the perfection of buttercream.
No more than five-foot with a willowy frame and narrow waist, many
had mistaken her for weak and vulnerable. Her girlish appearance was
nothing more than a clever ruse by Mother Nature, intended to hide
the vile, cruel nature that wrapped around her soul like a serpent.

“She’s scared,” Galen whispered, his voice too quiet to carry

across the distance.

If that was the case, no one would know by looking at her. She

held her head high, her shoulders pushed back so that her ample

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breasts thrust forward. Torren could detect no quivering, nothing to
indicate that she wasn’t perfectly in control of herself.

“You know this won’t work,” she called to them, but made no

move to come closer. “I know your tricks.”

“She doesn’t know all of them.” Galen once again spoke quietly,

the cocky smile evident in his tone.

“Release Hollis Becker,” Torren called back to her.
“I’ve done nothing to the shifter.”
“She’s lying.” Galen narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowed in

concentration. “She also knows that you realize she’s lying.”

“Why those pups?” Ignoring the warning bells going off in his

head, he took a chance and pressed on, trying to lead her thoughts to
where he needed them to go. “You knew they weren’t mine. Why did
you think you could use them against me?”

Natalie remained silent, but Galen gasped, his hand twitching as

though he’d move it to his mouth. He schooled himself at the last
moment, though, adopting a look of indifference, but Torren could
feel him shaking. He just didn’t know what emotion caused his
muscles to quiver as they were.

“She knew they weren’t yours,” Galen mumbled out of the side of

his mouth. He swallowed hard, and he sounded a little sick when he
continued. “You were supposed to be with her.”

“Excuse me?” Torren managed not to shout the question, but his

body burned with rage. “I’m supposed to what?”

“She didn’t want your magic. She wanted—still wants—you.”

Shivering again, Galen stared straight ahead, his eyes locked with
Natalie’s across the clearing. “You were with the cub’s mother, but it
should have been her. She murdered the mom, but something
happened before she could get the twins.”

Torren wasn’t buying it. She might have known the children

weren’t his. She may have even realized that the time frame was close
enough that she could trick him into believing otherwise. Whatever

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she knew or didn’t know, the objective had always been to obtain his
magic. But to what purpose?

With a flash of intuition, he realized that it didn’t matter.

Whatever her plan, she had failed. She hadn’t obtained his magic, the
pups, or even her freedom. While she’d tricked Enforcer Jonas Tracer
into releasing her, Bannon had brought her right back. From this
moment forward, she was at his mercy, her fate nestled securely in his
hands.

With a confidence he hadn’t felt in a long time, he knew exactly

what he needed to do. There was no way she would surrender to him.
Her heart was an ugly black hole, devoid of any emotion resembling
compassion. There was just one thing he needed to know before he
stepped over that proverbial line into no return.

“Where are the other children?” The paranormal children who had

blindly followed her sweet smile and hauntingly enchanted voice to
their peril. While they hadn’t died at her hands, she as good as sealed
their fates by draining their powers. It was a dark and poisonous
magic that should have never been unleashed upon the world.

“I don’t know,” Natalie answered steadily.
Galen frowned and cocked his head to the side. “She’s telling the

truth. She didn’t take the missing kids.”

“I never killed a single one of them.” Natalie’s gaze bored into

Torren. “You know what I did to them, and I don’t regret it,” she
continued arrogantly. “I sent each one of them back to their homes,
though.”

“Well, fuck,” Torren spat. That just opened a whole new can of

worms that he wasn’t looking forward to dealing with. “Release your
spell on Becker.” He knew it was a pointless demand, but he wasn’t
looking forward to what needed to be done.

“Make me.” The lilt to her voice and the glint in her eyes that he

could see even from a distance said that she looked forward to the
prospect.

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Though not his first choice, that’s exactly what Torren intended to

do.

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Chapter Thirteen

The sun was peeking over the horizon when Torren finally

dragged his eyelids back and arched against the sofa. Well, at least he
could conclusively say that those damn sedative darts worked.

Pushing to his feet and stretching the knotted muscles in his back,

he eventually groaned and followed the sound of voices and smell of
coffee to the kitchen. Raith and Lynk were there, talking in low tones
with Bannon while Galen cut up pancakes for Wren. Aslan was
nowhere in sight.

“He’s still sleeping,” Galen said without looking up. “I think he

had kind of a rough night.”

Torren nodded, but his brow knitted in concern. Wanting to get to

his mate as quickly as possible, he unloaded everything on his
brothers in one quick drop. “I think I know where we can start
looking for Thane.” All eyes snapped to him, but he ignored them.
“I’m going to have to take Natalie’s magic. I’m not looking forward
to it, but this has gone on long enough. We’ll figure out what to do
with Phillip when Leader McCarthy gets here. That’s it.”

“Where is Thane?” Raith asked, rising from his place at the table.
“We’ll discuss it later. I need to talk to Aslan.” Turning to leave

the kitchen, he paused but didn’t look back. “I want to swear both of
you in as Enforcers. The choice is yours, however, so you need to
decide by tomorrow night. Halloween,” he emphasized, in case any of
them missed the significance of what they were facing.

Without waiting for a reply, he strode out of the kitchen and down

the hall to wake his lover. It took no time at all to reach his door, but
it felt like the longest journey of his life. Steeling his heart, his

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courage, and his resolve, he pushed the door open, knowing he’d soon
be walking out of it for the last time.

* * * *

They were so closely intertwined that Aslan knew the exact

moment Torren had woken from his drug-induced slumber. Pushing
up in bed, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat waiting with his
back to the headboard. Something was wrong. He could feel it like a
heavy weight on his chest—like dark, insidious clouds that tumbled
restlessly inside his soul.

When Torren walked through the door of the bedroom they

shared, Aslan swore he felt the temperature drop. Cold, bone-
numbing fear settled into his heart, freezing his blood and making him
quake under his lover’s gaze.

The torment and longing that warred inside Torren at that moment

was not only visible in his eyes, but blasted from him in waves,
hitting Aslan like an emotional wrecking ball. Whatever the man had
to say, it would be nothing good.

When his mate didn’t come to him but moved to sit on the

loveseat near the window, his throat constricted, burning as the panic
began to claw at him, making it hard to draw in air to his lungs.

“Do you see now? You were only temporary. He doesn’t want

you.”

Aslan tried to push the voice away, but it was harder to drown out

the litany of noise in his mind when his emotions ran so close to the
surface. In fact, the only times he’d been able to completely erase the
voices was when he felt confident in his place at Torren’s side. Just
then, however, he felt anything but certain.

“You’re hearing the voices again, aren’t you?” Torren crossed one

leg over the other and pressed his fingertips together, looking relaxed
and self-assured.

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Aslan nodded since he was incapable of any type of audible

response. His mouth and throat were so dry, his chest so constricted,
he doubted he could utter so much as a hum at the moment.

Torren had promised to help him, and in a way he had. He’d still

yet to explain anything, and Aslan had been too scared to ask. As long
as he could keep the anxiety at bay, the constant whispering and
murmuring was easy to ignore. Knowing where those noises came
from was unlikely to give him any peace, but whether he wanted
answers or not, he had a feeling he was about to get them.

“You are a Limina,” Torren said matter-of-factly, as though Aslan

was supposed to know what the hell that meant. He didn’t have long
to worry over the definition, because Torren began speaking again
almost immediately. “You are a threshold between the world of the
living and the dead. During times when the veil between the worlds is
the thinnest, such as Halloween, spirits will be able to pass through
you from Purgatory and back into our realm.”

So, the voices he heard weren’t figments of an overactive

imagination and a fragile psyche? He wasn’t broken, damaged beyond
repair? He was hearing the ramblings of the deceased. It should have
been more of a surprise, but Aslan realized that somewhere in his
subconscious, he’d already made the connection.

It was the new voice—the eerily familiar sound of the man who

had stolen his son and spirited him away in the night so many years
ago. That had been the catalyst that finally pushed him into
understanding, but it was such a foreign concept that he’d refused to
allow himself to even entertain the possibility.

“So, I’m sure you understand how important it is that we don’t let

this gateway open,” Torren pressed on, unaware or uncaring that
Aslan was beginning to fall apart. He stared down at his steepled
fingers as he spoke, sounding cold, clinical, like a physics professor
lecturing his students on subatomic particles. “Raith will teach you
some exercises to help you control your magic when you become
overemotional.”

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“My magic?” Aslan croaked. What the hell did that mean?
Torren studied him for a moment before he returned to the

contemplation of his fingernails. “Were you not aware that you are a
witch?”

Hell no, he hadn’t been aware! He didn’t have any magic. His

father was a witch, but Aslan had never exhibited the gene—a
constant source of disappointment on top of everything else. Never in
his life had he performed a spell or done anything else extraordinary.
And there were plenty of times when that little trick would have come
in damn useful.

“I take it that you didn’t know.” Torren’s stilted, formal speech

was grating. Aslan had only heard Torren like this once before, and it
had resulted in devastating rejection. Is that what was happening
now? Was Torren essentially telling him good-bye?

Instead of destroying him as he thought it would, the knowledge

pissed him off. Flying out of bed, he knocked Torren’s ankle down
from his opposite knee, pushed in between his legs, and poked him
right in the chest. “You fucking bastard!”

Obviously, his mate hadn’t been expecting his reaction because

his eyes rounded as he sucked in a sharp breath. Just as quickly,
though, he returned to his cool disinterest. “Aslan, calm down.”

“Shut up,” Aslan warned, his tone dripping with venom. “My

whole life people have decided I wasn’t worth it. Hell, I never even
understood what ‘it’ was, but apparently, I just didn’t measure up. I
get it. Everything has been hard for me, but you try living your entire
life with these goddamn voices in your head.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Torren asked in polite

interest…nothing more.

“I tried!” Aslan exploded. “My parents couldn’t decide if I was

crazy or possessed, so they sold me like a faulty stereo in a yard sale.
Would you tell anyone else after that? Would you open that part of
you to other people just so they could strip you bare and leave you to
bleed? You’re not the only one with trust issues, Torren Braddock.”

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“This isn’t about me.” Calm. Collected.
“You’re damn right it’s not. It’s about us. Four different times

we’ve found each other, and that means nothing to you? You’re just
going to throw it all away? Other people can think I’m strange, weird,
or just plain stupid. It’s okay for them to turn their backs, but
you…you are my protector, my rock. You do not get to walk away
from me.”

The barest flicker of emotion passed through Torren’s eyes, too

quickly for Aslan to name it. His anger deflated as quickly as it had
flared, leaving him drained and weary. Slowly lowering to his knees,
he rested his head on Torren’s thigh and wrapped his fingers around
his lover’s calf. “I need you, Torren. I can’t do this without you.”

“But you don’t need him. I can show you things. You can be

strong, fearless…powerful. Let me show you.”

The longer Torren remained silent, the more Aslan’s resistance

began to crumble. How much more could he take before he just caved
in on himself?

“It’s better this way,” Torren said stubbornly, but Aslan could feel

the muscles quiver in his thighs. “Four times we’ve found each other,
and three times it has ended in tragedy. It can’t happen again.”

“He speaks the truth and you know it. Together your lives are

forfeit. Alone, you can soar.”

He hated that voice, hated the intoxicating sound of that siren’s

call, but it had done the trick to pull him out of his despair. It would
be so easy to stop fighting and just give himself over to the growled
demands and the promises offered to him. Someone else had made a
promise to him, though, one he was much more interested in, and he
intended to make his lover remember it.

Torren had given him what he needed, allowed him to slam the

door on his insecurities and bolt it shut. While Torren might think he
was doing the right thing, separating them to protect Aslan, he was
wrong.

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Crawling up his mate’s body and straddling his hips, he grabbed

Torren’s face in both hands and kissed him with every ounce of joy,
devotion, desperation, need, and desire that raged inside him. “We’re
stronger together. I’m not letting you give up on us. We were meant
to be together, two parts of a whole in the most elemental sense. I
belong to you.” He sealed their mouths together for another taste of
his lover before pulling back again. “Belong to me.”

Torren panted against his lips, his cock rising up in his pajama

bottoms to rub against Aslan’s crease. He wasn’t finished being an
obstinate bastard, though. His fingers gripped Aslan’s hips, holding
him frozen in place. “Aslan, stop. This isn’t going to happen. It was
wrong of me to claim you without your permission, and I apologize. I
don’t want you, though.”

They’d never talked about it, but Aslan knew Torren had claimed

him their first time together. It was one of the most beautiful
memories Aslan had and his lover was trying to sully it with his lies.
“That might hurt if you weren’t such a horrible liar. You love me,
Torren. Admit it.”

“No.”
“Say it.” Aslan tickled the seam of Torren’s lips with his tongue,

coaxing them open. “Say it.”

Torren opened his mouth, most likely to say something else

stupid, but Aslan didn’t give him the chance. He plunged his tongue
inside, laying siege to the warmth depths. “Say it,” he demanded.

A glorious moan of grudging surrender burst through Torren’s

swollen lips, and his arms locked around Aslan’s back like steel
bands. He began babbling incoherently, words in a language that
Aslan didn’t understand at first. Though he still couldn’t decipher the
exact phrasing, he got the general idea when their clothes vanished
and a blunt pressure pressed against his hole.

“Sorry,” Torren grunted. “I can’t…I need…fuck!”
Though Torren’s cock still rested along his lower belly, lined up

beside his, Aslan felt his inner muscles stretch as though something

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invaded his channel. There was no burn, no pain, only an earth-
bending pleasure that made him moan and jerk in Torren’s embrace.

The pressure increased, the specter phallus invading his innermost

depths, stretching him wide as an unseen lubricant wetted his outer
ring and between his cheeks. “Torren, oh, sweet hell, please,” he
begged, rocking his hips so that their leaking cocks rubbed together
over his lover’s rippled abs.

In one smooth, coordinated move, Torren lifted him up,

positioned the crown of his dick at Aslan’s hole, and pulled him back
down onto his lap as he thrust home with bone-jarring intensity.
Torren held him crushed to his chest as he pounded into him wildly.
One hand landed on Aslan’s right ass cheek, the fingers digging in
and spreading him open.

He couldn’t move, didn’t want to, willingly accepting everything

his mate gave him. When Torren’s teeth clamped down on his
shoulder just shy of breaking the skin, Aslan had to reconsider his
aversion to biting when his pleasure spiked to unparalleled levels.

“Can’t last.” Torren groaned against the side of his neck as he

rode him hard, bucking up into him like a demon possessed. Then he
did the one thing guaranteed to push Aslan over the edge. “I love
you,” he whispered raggedly, sending Aslan spiraling out of control.

His release blasted through him without warning as he shouted to

the ceiling and long ropes of pearly semen spurted from his pulsing
cock. Resting his forehead against Torren’s, Aslan rode out his
climax, shuddering almost violently when his mate’s orgasm painted
his inner walls, branding him as taken.

Wrapped in the warm glow of postorgasmic bliss, there was only

silence inside Aslan’s usually overcrowded brain. “If you aren’t
careful I might start to think you like me.”

Torren held him quietly for a long time, still buried deep inside his

tunnel as he drew lazy circles on Aslan’s spine. “I’m sorry, caro.”

Placing a soft kiss on the side of his lover’s neck, Aslan smiled as

he felt himself getting sleepy again. “You’re forgiven. Don’t pull

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away from me, Torren. I need you.” His life was a chaotic mess, and
he needed Torren to ground him, give him purpose, and make things a
little less daunting.

A contented sigh rose up out of his lover, and Torren nuzzled his

cheek against the top of Aslan’s head. “Not nearly as much as I need
you.”

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Chapter Fourteen

There were a lot of people gathered in the meeting hall the next

night, most of them Torren had never met before or had only brief
associations with. He felt uncomfortable sitting on the raised platform
behind the elongated podium with the other elders. He’d have much
preferred to sit down on one of the benches with his mate.

Aslan caught his eye from his seat in the front row and winked

mischievously as he subtly brushed a hand over his groin. Torren’s
cock twitched in response, and he suppressed a groan while shooting
his lover a look that promised retribution once they were alone. Aslan
looked delighted at the prospect, laughing and blowing him air-kisses.

“Okay, now that everyone is here, we can get started,” Elder

Layke Winters said with a sophistication that Torren could only envy.
“First, why don’t we get the introductions out of the way? Xander?”

A mountain of a man with long, dark hair and creamy caramel

skin stood to address the room. “Alexander Brighton,” he said,
smiling widely to show off his gleaming white teeth. “My pack just
arrived yesterday and will be helping to acclimate the new
Moonlighters to life here in Haven.” His expression darkened, and
Torren sensed a quiet fury within the big shifter.

He’d yet to meet the men Xander referred to, but knew from some

of the Enforcers that the small pack of Moonlighters had been in
rough shape when they rescued them from the mountains in Arkansas.
It had taken a little persuasion, but eventually The Council granted the
funds to purchase the acreage that ran adjacent to Haven.

As a Moonlighter himself, Xander was certainly the most logical

choice to help the newcomers. While Haven was one huge melting

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pot of those beaten, broken, and homeless, unfortunately, it could still
be dangerous for the white-pelted shifters.

Torren didn’t know much about shifters in general, but everyone

knew about the Moonlight Breed curse. There might be a wide variety
of shifters, but none of them became an animal with a white coat
other than those who had been cursed.

The breed had been hated and hunted for as long as he could

remember. People feared them, claiming that being in the presence of
a Moonlighter during his or her shift would drive anyone to madness
almost instantly. While the myth had been somewhat disproven in
recent months, it would take much longer to change the mass’s
opinion and curb their mistrust.

A smaller man with stylishly mussed hair stood beside Xander

and took his hand. “Xander is our alpha,” he offered proudly, though
unnecessarily.

Xander brought the man’s hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over

the knuckles before offering a soft smile. “Hush now, chulo.”

Ah, his mate. It was getting easier for Torren to recognize other

relationships now that he had Aslan in his life—and therefore a basis
for his analysis. “And this is?”

“Braxton Carmichael,” Xander responded, returning his attention

to the elders. He didn’t release Braxton, though, even going as far as
to curl a protective arm around his shoulders. Motioning behind him,
several other men stood, including Flynn, Boston, and Malakai.

Torren wasn’t really on a first-name basis with the three, but he’d

met them and liked them well enough. As for the others, he had no
issues with them or their status as Moonlighters, but he was never
going to remember all of their names. God, his head was starting to
hurt. Why had Layke insisted on these introductions? Wouldn’t it be
more prudent to just get down to business? Hell, Torren could mingle
and meet everyone at the party afterward if it was that important.

Once Xander was finished and everyone resumed their seats, four

other men rose from across the aisle. “Alpha Ridley Thatcher of the

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Trinity Pack,” the tallest of the group announced then proceeded to
introduce his beta and two Enforcers. “We’re here to talk guns.”

Okay, now they were getting somewhere. Still, there were other

things to discuss first, orders to issue, and hopefully new elders and
Enforcers to swear in. Elder Means sat to Torren’s right, staring down
at his lap as though he’d rather be anywhere than in the room at that
moment. “Elder, is there something you’d like to say?”

There was a sad smile on his lips when the representative of the

lycans and weres looked up. “I’m an old man, Elder Braddock. I
know you think that I harbor ill feelings toward you, but that isn’t
true. I simply feel that I have served my purpose—and possibly not as
well as I could have. I just want to rest and be left in peace.” He
gained his feet and nodded to the crowd. “I resign.” Then he stepped
down from the stage and exited through one of the side doors without
another word.

“Uh, yes.” Layke looked to be fumbling for something to say.
“Good riddance to the old codger,” Elder Cortez boomed with a

lazy flick of his wrist. “Times change and if he can’t learn to adapt,
then we need new blood.” The vampire smiled lasciviously and licked
his lips, but ruined the effect by laughing shortly afterward.

“Now we need to appoint another elder,” Torren said, only a slight

pout to his voice. Why couldn’t things ever just be easy for him?

Aslan chuckled at him and shook his head. “Behave,” he mouthed.
“I nominate Kieran Delaney,” Cortez said casually.
Kieran jumped his feet and shook his head. “Oh, hell no. That

really isn’t going to happen.”

“What about Raina?” Galen stood as well and linked his hands in

front of him. “She’s smart, understanding, compassionate, but fierce
as they come when crossed. She’d make an excellent elder.”

“Oh, Galen, I’m really not qualified.” Raina Delany jumped up

beside him, blushing all the way to the tips of her tiny ears. “There
has never been a woman on The Council.”

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Torren idly wondered where the twins were, but after a quick scan

revealed that Teegan was absent from the proceedings, he figured he
had his answer. “I think it’s a great idea.” Whether she knew it or not,
Raina had the perfect temperament, the exact balance of kindness and
ruthlessness needed to lead. “I second the nomination.”

“All those in favor?” Layke asked.
Except for those who had no idea who Raina was, the vote was

unanimous. “We’ll swear you in after the meeting.” Torren gave her
an encouraging grin, and though she looked a little shocked, Raina
nodded her agreement and settled back down beside her brothers. It
took only a couple of seconds for the surprise to disappear, replaced
by a very self-pleased smile.

Yes, she would make a damn fine elder.
“Now, I believe Jory Lahman has been selected as the

representative for the demons.” Layke arched an eyebrow at Stavion’s
mate. “Do you have any objections?”

Jory chewed his lip for a long time before he stood and shook his

head. “I can do this.” Stavion looked like he’d bust from the seams
with pride. Torren didn’t know the whole story, didn’t want to, but
he’d heard enough about Jory’s past to understand just how far he’d
come. Truth be told, he was kind of proud of the runt as well.

Layke took another vote, and again, everyone was in favor of

handing the reigns over to Jory. “Camdin Maywater couldn’t be here,
but he has agreed to accept The Council seat for the fae. Those in
favor?” People seemed less inclined to throw their support behind an
elder that couldn’t even be bothered to attend his first gathering, but
in the end, the majority won out.

“Finally, that leaves a representative for the shifters. Are there any

nominations?”

One of the newcomers from the pack of Moonlighters bounced up

from the bench—a shrimp of a man with spikey, blond hair and a
cocky grin. “Make Xander an elder.”

“Keeton, sit down,” Xander growled out of the side of his mouth.

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“Why do you think he should be elder?” Torren asked.
“Well, why the hell not?” The guy—Keeton—tilted his head to

the side, a spark of defiance flashing in his eyes. He reminded Torren
of Aslan, which went a long way in convincing him that he liked the
guy already. “He’s smart, kind, loyal, protective of the people he
cares about.”

Braxton scrambled his feet as well, knocking Xander’s hand away

when the alpha tried to hold him back. “He’s brave, honorable, and
fair. You couldn’t ask for a better leader.”

“Braxton, I am going to redden your ass when we get home.”

Xander’s comment earned him a cheeky grin from his mate and
several chuckles from the rest of the room.

“Agreed,” Boston and Flynn said at the same time.
“Absolutely,” Stavion added.
“I don’t particularly like the fucker, but he’d make a good elder.”

Raven shrugged when Keeton and Braxton glared daggers at him.
“What? I was agreeing with you.”

Several others offered their support and after putting it to a vote,

The Council had itself a new shifter elder with little hassle. Thank
fuck for small miracles.

“Next on the agenda.” Cortez shuffled some papers around in

front of him. “Who wants to get rid of this fucking registry?”

Torren about choked at the lack for formality but hid it quickly.

Hell, they were all friends here. What was to say that they had to act
like gods on high to get the job done? And if that was the case, why
did he have to sit up there without his mate?

His expression serious, he crooked a finger at Aslan, beckoning

him up on the dais. Aslan looked startled as he hurried up on the stage
and grabbed Torren’s hand. “What’s wrong?” he whispered. “Did
something happen? Are you okay?”

Damn, he loved this man. How had he ever thought he could walk

away? “Just this.” He pecked Aslan on the lips as he slid the man into
his lap and curled his arms around him. As he’d expected, no one had

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a problem with Aslan perched in his lap. Most weren’t even paying
attention to them, and those that were just assumed knowing grins. It
was a good thing, because Torren didn’t really care if they liked it or
not.

Apparently, Aslan didn’t care, either, because he positioned

himself more comfortably and refocused on the meeting. Everyone
seemed to be arguing about the registry still. While most opposed the
idea, there were a few in favor of it.

The most prominent of those was Alpha Blaise Taylor from the

Cloud Peak Pack. “The registry has been invaluable in helping us
locate not only prisoners but fugitives as well.”

Unfortunately, Torren couldn’t argue with him on that one. He

also understood why most members of the gathering felt the registry
was too intrusive, though. Maybe they could come to a compromise.

“Quiet,” he called, settling everyone down and gaining their

attention. “What if we do away with the official registry maintained
by The Council?” Cheers went up around the room, but Torren called
them back with an upheld hand. “But I propose that the packs, covens,
circles, et cetera maintain their own registries that will be available to
The Council only if the need arises to find a missing person or
persons.”

There was a murmur of discussion, a few questions, some more

finagling, but they finally came to an agreement. “You’re really good
at this.” Aslan kissed the underside of his jaw. “I love you, Torren.”

Torren squeezed his lover tighter and kissed the side of his neck.

“You make me want to be a better person.”

“What about carrying guns?” Alpha Thatcher called. “This cloak-

and-dagger shit is all well and good, but it’s the twenty-first century.
The bad guys don’t fight fair, and our Enforcers are dropping like
flies.”

This time it was Elder Cortez who headed the discussion. “I agree

we need better weapons, but the goal is to debilitate and capture, not
kill.”

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“With all due respect, Elder, they’re not too picky about killing

us.”

Cortez chuckled and bobbed his head. “Point taken, Ridley. You

always were a pain in my ass. What do you propose then?”

Ridley jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward his beta. “Blair is

a fucking weapons genius. We’ve got some ideas that might just fit
what you’re looking for if you’d be willing to consider them.”

“Any objections?” Cortez asked the other elders. Torren shook his

head. He was well onboard with arming the Enforcers with better
weapons. “Fine, we’ll talk more tomorrow evening.”

“Elder Braddock.” Leader Nicholas McCarthy stood and bowed

his head respectfully. “We found the wolf, Moonstar, dead a few days
ago. The binding spell between her and my brother is broken.”

Torren grinned. That was very good news. “And Mikko?”
“We’ve interrogated the entire staff and are currently working our

way through the sentries. So far, I don’t have any information about
what Phillip may have done with your brother, but I assure you that
I’ll keep digging.”

It was all Torren could ask. “Thank you, Nicholas.”
“What about Natalie Halstead?” Layke asked from the other end

of the long table.

As if the moment had been designed by destiny, the back door of

the meeting hall banged open as Lynk stormed down the aisle looking
mad enough to spit fire. “I’m going to kill that stupid son of a bitch!”

Torren saw Kieran flinch and suppressed a grin. “Who would that

be?”

“He’s completely overreacting as usual,” Raith answered as he

strolled in through the door behind Lynk. “It’s not a big deal.”

Lynk didn’t even acknowledge him. “He drained that bitch of her

magic. The result is disgusting. She’s all shriveled up like a dead
leaf.”

“Yes,” Raith drawled with an arched eyebrow at Lynk, “but the

good news is that Hollis Becker is free of his curse. I was able to

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reverse it once I drained the sleazy little harpy. Oh, and ding dong, the
witch is dead.”

“Is that a good thing?” Aslan asked, his eyebrows drawn together

in confusion.

In some ways it did make things much easier, but at what cost to

Raith? “Why?”

“You are not the only Braddock with a bit of magic, brother.”

Raith became serious as he marched closer to the podium. “You have
a mate who needs you, Torren. I couldn’t let you do it.”

The dark, ominous magic he’d felt slithering through Natalie now

resided inside his brother. It would slowly poison his soul, and there
was no way to take back what he’d done. It wouldn’t kill him, but it
could very well change all the things about Raith that Torren admired.
Only time would tell.

Still, he understood why the man had done it, and a small, selfish

part of him was grateful. “Thank you, Raith. We’ll figure out
something.”

Raith waved his hand in dismissal. “I feel fine, but either way, this

is my curse to bear and I chose it willingly.” He clapped his hands
together and rubbed eagerly. “Now, who’s ready to party?”

There was a little too much bravado in Raith’s tone for Torren’s

comfort, but the deed had been done. Maybe there was something in
the old archives that could help him. The reckless fool was his
brother, and though he insisted he was fine, Torren knew better. He
just didn’t know how to help him.

“Don’t worry,” Aslan whispered. “We’ll find a way to help him.”
Resting his chin on the top of his lover’s head, Torren sighed

heavily. Yes, they would, but it wouldn’t be easy. Then again, nothing
important ever was.

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Chapter Fifteen

Aslan couldn’t believe how hard his dick was. Watching Torren

take charge of the meeting was sexy as hell. What had really done it
for him, though, was when Torren had called him up on stage and
settled him right in his lap, silently declaring that Aslan belonged to
him and he didn’t care who knew it.

Roaming around the open field, he tried to readjust his aching

erection but finally gave up when every touch just made his cock
swell more. It seemed that everyone in Haven was scattered about the
field, talking in small groups, or just hanging out around the campfire.
Some of the young ones were wearing costumes, a few roasting
marshmallows with the help of their parents.

Wren was running amok of the new shifter pack in Haven. His

squeals of laughter rang out through the night when Xander lifted him
up and tossed him into the air before catching him and spinning
around in a circle. It was nice to see him having fun and just being a
kid.

Wandering over to the group, Aslan stopped beside two of the

smaller members and held his hand out. “I’m Aslan.”

“Braxton, and this is Keeton.” Braxton nodded toward Wren with

a tender smile on his face. “Is he yours?”

“Not officially, but I’m hoping.” He hadn’t talked to Torren about

it, and he knew that they would have to settle things with Wren’s
biological family first, but he wanted to be the boy’s father so much it
hurt.

“He’s a cutie,” Keeton said around his laughter when Wren

launched himself out of Xander’s arms and practically tackled a huge

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blond guy standing nearby. “That guy who looks like he just got
clobbered over the head is Logan.” Keeton wiggled his fingers,
showing off a wedding band on his left hand. “He’s mine.”

Braxton pointed toward two men sitting on the ground a few feet

from them. “The one shoveling food into his mouth is Jackson, and
the grumpy asshole beside him is his mate, Talon. And I guess you
already know Boston.”

“Kitty!” Wren yelled, grabbing Logan’s face and squishing his

cheeks together. “I wanna see!”

Logan held the kid awkwardly in his arms with a look of someone

who had no idea what he was doing, and it scared the hell out of him.
“Yes, show him the kitty!” Keeton called with a snicker. He sauntered
over and tickled Wren’s side. “Guess what, little man. We’ve got a
whole zoo!”

Wren’s eyes went wide and lit up with excitement. “Can I see? I

wanna see.” He wiggled around in Logan’s arms, squirming to get to
Keeton. Once he’d landed where he wanted to be, he wrapped his
arms around Keeton’s neck and bounced a little. “Please? Pretty
please?”

“Sure thing.” Keeton looked up at his mate and arched an

eyebrow. “Well, get to it. The kid wants to see a kitty.”

Logan crossed his arms over his chest. “Not going to happen,

angel.”

“Go on.” Keeton waved a hand toward the trees behind them. “No

one wants to see your naked a—rump, but we do want to pet a pretty
kitty cat.”

“You, too,” Braxton demanded of Xander. “Get your butt in those

trees and let’s see some tail.” He winked roguishly, and Aslan had to
slap a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. Oh, he was really
going to like having these guys around.

After another few seconds of arguing, the big shifters finally

relented, but they weren’t going down alone. “Talon, Jackson, get
over here.”

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Soon they were joined by not only those two, but Boston, Flynn,

and Malakai as well. “What’s up?” Boston asked as he wrapped his
arm around Malakai’s waist.

“The little man wants to see some animals.” Keeton batted his

long lashes and made kissy faces. “You wouldn’t want to break his
little heart, would you?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Boston spoke as he looked out

over the field. “Things are good here, but people are still skittish. I
think seeing five Moonlighters would cause a panic.”

Aslan wanted to smack himself in the head. He hadn’t even

thought of that. Maybe it was because he knew the rumors and
superstitions were untrue. Still, not everyone shared in his way of
thinking.

“I’m sorry,” he offered. “I didn’t realize. I didn’t think.” Fuck,

was he ever going to get it right? He could have put so many people
in danger, including Wren. “Crap, I didn’t…I…I…” Mewling sounds
welled through his lips but he couldn’t stop them as he rocked back
and forth.

“Hey, man, it’s cool.” Keeton touch his shoulder, squeezing it in

comfort. “It was my fault, really. I’m so used to it just being us that I
didn’t think about it, either. No sweat.”

“Aslan?” Wren’s sweet voice penetrated his panic, and Aslan

looked up, holding his arms out automatically when Wren leapt at
him. “Can I see the animals now? I want to pet a giraffe.”

The whole group burst into laughter. “Well, I don’t think we have

a giraffe, but we’ll find some animals for you to pet tomorrow.” Aslan
rubbed their noses together and kissed Wren’s forehead. “I think it’s
someone’s bedtime.”

“Who?” Wren asked innocently. Then his face brightened with

understanding before he turned and looked up at the huge alpha. “You
have a bedtime, too?”

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“Yes, he does,” Braxton answered without missing a beat. He

smacked Xander on the ass and pointed in the direction of the
campfire. “Go on, mister. And don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

Xander huffed and rolled his eyes before lifting Braxton over his

shoulder, swatting his upturned bottom, and marching away. A few of
the others left as well, leaving Aslan alone with Keeton until Jory,
Kendall, and Galen wandered over to make their own introductions.
Seeing Kendall reminded him of something, though.

“When will Wren get his wings?”
Kendall smiled as he caressed the little pixie’s back. Wren had his

head rested on Aslan’s shoulder and was already about half asleep, his
breaths becoming slow and even. “I think I got mine around twelve or
thirteen, so you have a few years. Besides, you won’t be able to see
them except for in the moonlight.”

A warm, solid weight pressed up against Aslan’s back, and soft

lips ghosted up the side of his neck. “He down for the count?”

“Yeah, he’s worn out.” Poor little Wren was snoring softly against

the side of Aslan’s neck. How children could go from hyper to
passed-out in seconds flat amazed him.

“I’m going to go check on Danica,” Kendall said quietly. “Would

you like me to take him up to the house? You can pick him up before
you leave.”

Bless Kendall. He never made Aslan feel like he wasn’t capable

of taking care of Wren, or that he wouldn’t be able to hold up to the
challenge of raising a child. All of his friends were so supportive, and
it made him realize that no matter what his past held, he was an
incredibly lucky man.

“Thank you, Kendall,” Torren replied when Aslan didn’t say

anything. “We shouldn’t be much longer.”

“No problem.” Kendall transferred Wren from Aslan’s chest to his

own, gave them a little wave, and disappeared. Aslan was pleased to
see that Kendall stopped on the way out of the clearing to grab his
mate, though. Cassius would keep them safe.

Invincible 137

“You worry too much.” Torren lifted him into his arms so that

Aslan had to lock his legs around his mate’s waist or risk falling.
“Have a little fun tonight, because things are going to get freaking
busy after this.”

He said it lightly, jokingly, but Aslan could feel the tension in

Torren’s neck and shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s almost midnight. Nothing has happened yet, but I feel like

we’re being watched.” It was a testament to the trust between them
that Torren hadn’t lied or tried to redirect the conversation.

“Here’s what I don’t get.” Resting his hands on his hips, Galen

stared out into the trees that surrounded the grassy area. “I understand
that Becker was being controlled or cursed or whatever by Natalie,
but that doesn’t answer how he got onto the estate in the first place.”

“Most likely a cloaking spell of some kind.” Torren followed

Galen’s gaze, his eyes narrowed, his senses alert.

“Aslan, run! Leave now!”
Jerking in Torren’s arms, Aslan pressed a hand to his temple,

trying to force the voice away. “Not now.”

“Tell Torren to go. Get everyone out. Get somewhere safe.

They’re coming. Hurry!”

Then voices exploded inside his head, making his ears ring and

pain throb inside his temples.

“He lies!”
“He can’t help you!”
“Stay with us. We’re the only ones who care about you.”
“Your mate will leave you. He doesn’t love you.”
“Let us help you. Let us in.”
“It’s them.” Aslan gasped as panic threatened to overwhelm him.

“The witches that came that night. The ones who took Addison. It’s
them, Torren. They’re coming. They want the book.”

He knew he wasn’t making sense, but he couldn’t corral his

frantic thoughts. The voices he’d been hearing for months were those

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of long-dead witches who had kidnapped his child and murdered him
and his mate.

“Hide, Aslan. Get away and hide.”
The voice, while urgent, didn’t frighten him like the others. If

anything, it calmed him and gave him courage. “Who are you?”

Torren looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Baby, are you

okay? What’s going on? What are you hearing?”

“Tell my stubborn-ass brother to go already, or I’ll bite him in the

balls again.”

“Your brother bit your balls?” Aslan wrinkled his nose. “Eww.”
“Not like that,” Torren said absently. “It was the first time he’d

shifted. He was just scared. I tried to—” He cut off abruptly and
shook his head. “Mikko.”

* * * *

Torren couldn’t breathe. He had no idea how Aslan was hearing

Mikko. Or maybe he did and was just too afraid to face the truth. Just
then was not the time to dwell on it, though. Something was coming.
He could feel it like a static charge in the air.

Setting Aslan to his feet, Torren gave him a little shove. “Find as

many Enforcers as you can. Start getting people out of here.”

He’d expected Aslan to argue with him, so when the little man

just nodded and took off across the field, Torren was momentarily
stumped on what to do next. Watching his mate go, he had a sense of
foreboding that he couldn’t shake. Whatever was coming—it came
for Aslan.

“What do you need from us?” Raith appeared at his side as though

he’d teleported there.

“Tell us what to do,” Lynk added, determination blazing in his

dark brown eyes.

Enforcers were running around the clearing, gathering people up

and sending them on their way. Torren didn’t have a clue what story

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they’d come up with, but it must have been a good one, because so
far, no one was panicking.

“Lynk, go to the main house. If you can’t put a protection spell on

the whole thing, gather everyone in one room and lock it up tight. I
don’t even want a breeze to get through that barrier. Got it?”

“I’m on it.” Lynk sprinted across the field, dodging stragglers as

his feet flew over the dying grass.

“Raith, find Nicholas. He’s not strong, but we can use all the help

we can get.”

His brother was gone before he’d even finished speaking.
“What can we do?” Xander and his pack moved in to surround

Torren, though he noticed that the smaller mates were absent. Good
men. He’d give anything to have Aslan away from there.

“I need someone to find Aslan.”
“He’s by the bonfire,” Boston informed him. “I’ll be back in a

blink.”

“Your mates are safe?”
“Malakai is takin’ the Trouble Twins to the house.” Flynn

chuckled and shook his head. “A more difficult pair I’ve never met.
They’ll be fittin’ right in around here.”

“Okay, we’re here,” Raith panted as he jogged up beside Torren,

Nicholas and the vampire’s mate, Jonas, right behind him. “Protection
spells?”

“Yes, and hurry.” Then they were off again.
The calmness of the clearing had dissipated, leaving behind a

sense of urgency. “Just be ready,” he said, answering Xander’s earlier
query. “I hope you don’t mind getting a little dirty.” He started
walking toward the trees, chanting his own protection spells under his
breath, when someone yelled his name.

Spinning around, his heart seized in his chest and the air burst

from his lungs in a strangled moan. Boston jogged toward him with
Aslan in his arms. Torren’s mate jerked and convulsed, his eyes

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rolling back in his head as heartbreaking whimpers emanated from
him.

He couldn’t make his legs work, couldn’t see anything past the

unbearable sight of his lover in such obvious pain. Before Boston
reached him, the bonfire exploded, sending up twenty-foot flames that
broke off and rained down, igniting a ring of fire, trapping them in its
circle.

It was happening again. Just like all the times before, they were

destined to have their time together cut short.

“Give us the Relegatis!” A hand fisted in Torren’s hair, jerking

his head back on his shoulders so that the rain splattered over his
face. “Give it to us or he dies.” The asshole gave him a meaningful
look and tilted his head toward Aslan.

Somewhere in the distance, Torren heard a baby cry. His baby.

His son. One of the two reasons that Torren lived and breathed. The
other reason was kneeling beside him, a steel blade pressed to his
throat hard enough to nick the skin and draw blood.

Rage and fury bubbled in his veins, but these witches were more

powerful than him. Without his circle, he was helpless against them.
His body was locked in place, held immobile by the invisible
restraints of his captor’s bewitchment.

Cutting his eyes to the side, he found Aslan staring back at him

with despair written in the lines of his face. His eyes begged, pleaded
for Torren to give these men what they wanted. Everything was
written there, laid raw for Torren to see. Though the situation was
bleak, Aslan still believed in him. He still had faith that Torren would
save them.

He had no idea where the Book of the Banished was, though. And

even if he did, they would never allow them to live after he revealed
the whereabouts. Unable to even move—weak, vulnerable, felled by
an unworthy adversary—Torren could do nothing but watch as the
life drained from Aslan’s eyes.

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He welcomed death. Welcomed the end. Without his mate, without

his child, he had no joy, no sunlight, and no reason to draw his next
breath.

Shaking himself out of the depressing memory, Torren felt the

moisture of one hot, salty tear as it trickled from the corner of his eye
and off the tip off his nose. He growled as he wiped it away roughly.
He would not be weak again. This time, he would fight to protect
what belonged to him. This time, he would win.

Suddenly, Boston was thrown off his feet, hurdling backward

through the air with Aslan still clutched in his arms. He landed in a
heap near the roaring fire, and Torren watched as his mate rolled
across the grass and came to a stop several feet away.

He’d taken only two running steps when a mountain of a man

appeared out of nowhere, scooping Aslan up in his arms and turning
to face Torren with a devious grin. “It’s over, Braddock. You’ve
failed again.”

His fear from moments before was overshadowed by a cold, dark

rage, leaving him shaking from head to toe. Taking another measured
step forward, he clenched his hands at his side, his gaze locked on the
asshole, contemplating exactly how to end his worthless existence.
“Put him down,” he ordered in a low, dangerous tone.

“What will you do? You can’t stop me, just like you couldn’t stop

my ancestors. Back off and maybe we’ll let you live this time.”

All around him, Enforcers battled with the circle of witches, but

Torren paid them no attention. The witches were outnumbered and
even with their magic, they were no match for the Enforcers of
Haven. Already he saw two on the ground, limp and unmoving. That
left only three others, plus the fucker still holding his mate.

“What do you want with him?”
“I’m not stupid, Braddock. I know you’re more powerful than

me.” He clutched Aslan closer, obviously aware that Torren wouldn’t
do anything to risk harming his lover. “I want the Book of the

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Banished, and I want the original circle dead. I’m going to need a
little help to accomplish both.”

“It doesn’t work that way.” Torren growled and took another step

closer. “Only one soul can pass through the threshold.”

“Yes, but if it’s the right one, he can bring back the others.”
It was true. Torren’s own brother, Thane, had such an ability.

Even if Aslan’s life wasn’t at stake, there was no way he could allow
that to happen. “Put him down,” he repeated.

The witch shook his head and began backing away toward the

circle of fire. Torren watched as the flames parted, leaving a small
gap just big enough for his enemy to escape through. Fortunately for
Torren, the idiot hadn’t counted on the enormous white tiger that
catapulted through the air, hitting him in the back and crumpling him
to the ground.

Once again, Aslan went rolling across the grass, still seizing as he

curled in on himself. Damn, his baby was having a rough night.

Rushing across the field, he skidded to a halt, throwing himself on

the ground and wrapping Aslan up in his arms. His mate’s would-be
kidnapper wasn’t a threat to them any longer, would never be a threat
to anyone else. The big tiger—Xander—had seen to that, and Torren
could only be grateful.

There was still one battle left to win, and though it left his heart

bleeding, it was one that Aslan would have to fight alone. “Aslan!
Open your eyes. Fight for me, baby. You’re stronger than they are.
You can do this.”

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Chapter Sixteen

His entire body hurt like the ten shades of hell. The seizures

continued to ride him hard, barrel rolling him beneath a wave of
debilitating pain. His chest was on fire, burning hot like the blue
flame within an inferno. His eyes, his temples, his skull—it all
pounded like the bass blaring from a wall of speakers inside a techno
club.

Time and reality warped into something resembling a carnival fun

house. Nothing was real, yet everything was real. Darkness pressed in
on the edges of his vision, calling his name, reaching for him. The
tendrils of peace tickled at his senses, luring him closer into a place
where nothing could hurt him.

Desperate to make the pain stop, Aslan followed the curling rings

of fog that beckoned him into the unknown like a lover’s finger
crooking invitingly, teasing him with the promise of sinful delights.
Something held him back, something warm, solid, and unmovable.
Though he tried to shrug off the hold, it wouldn’t relent, calling him
back to where the pain seared through him like a nuclear blast.

“Aslan! Open your eyes. Fight for me, baby. You’re stronger than

they are. You can do this.”

He knew that voice, responded to it by instinct. Struggling against

the spasms that wracked his body, Aslan pried his eyelids back and
stared up at the most beautiful angel he’d ever seen. A dark warrior
angel, come to earth just for him.

“That’s it, caro. Right here. Keep looking right here.” If Torren

was afraid, he didn’t show it. His hands were rock steady as they
moved over Aslan’s face, stroking his cheeks and down the sides of

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his throat. His voice never wavered, never broke. As always, Torren
was his rock.

“No, you can’t trust him.”
“Come with us. Let us take you away from the pain.”
“Let us in.”
“Let us in.”
“Let us in.”
Over and over the words chanted inside his head, almost lyrical in

their rhythm and cadence. They called to him, coaxing him closer to
the dark void once again.

“No, damn it!” Torren shook him roughly. “It will not end this

way. Not this time. Open your goddamn eyes and see me!” His mate’s
mouth crashed down on his, his tongue plunged between his lips, and
he stroked the inside of Aslan’s mouth, leaving no crevice
unexplored.

Hard, hungry, desperate, the kiss pushed away some of Aslan’s

pain, replacing within him a new kind of scorching heat. “Torren,” he
whimpered, clutching at his lover’s shirt, terrified of being dragged
under again.

“I’m right here. I’m always going to be right here.” Torren took

his mouth again, demanding that Aslan respond to him as he claimed
what was his. “I love you.”

Those three little words that held the power of the world slammed

into him like the first rays of sunlight peeking through the clouds after
a violent storm. Something primal, instinctual, and almost savage rose
up inside him, pushing a growl through his lips as he flipped their
positions and pinned Torren beneath him on the ground.

The voices in his head raged and screamed, thrashing about and

throwing themselves at the cages he’d locked around his mind. Paying
them no attention, Aslan attacked Torren’s clothes, stripping his lover
with sure, quick fingers. “Can’t stop,” he warned.

Luckily, Torren understood, because he whispered the same

words he’d used the night before, though instead of stretching Aslan

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wide, Aslan plunged three fingers into the slicked and loosened hole
of his mate’s ass. The muscles gripped him, sucked him in, and
massaged his digits.

Too far gone for even that bit of foreplay, Aslan pushed his jeans

down his hips until his aching cock sprang free, the crown a deep
purple, engorged, and dripping an extraordinary amount of pre-cum.
Lining the tip up with Torren’s entrance, Aslan tried to beg
forgiveness with his eyes as he slammed forward, seating himself in
one jarring thrust.

Torren’s back arched up off the ground, his cock leaked liberally

against his abs, and the most magnificent cry of pleasure exploded
from his lips and into the night. Around them the fires burned, people
shouted, and the war waged on, but none of that mattered. It was
background noise, a distant rumble that barely registered as Aslan’s
entire world, his whole reason for being, centered to the point where
his cock plunged into Torren’s hot, tight, willing body.

He didn’t know what was happening to him or why he felt the

absurd need to possess his mate, dominate him, own him, but the need
was there, uncontrollable as he slammed into Torren hard enough to
make his own teeth rattle. The ground trembled beneath him, thunder
rolled overhead, and flames danced around them, the orange light
flittering across his lover’s sweat-soaked skin, making him glow like
some Egyptian sun god.

As his climax rose over him like the swell of the ocean, words

he’d heard only once before in a language he’d never spoken came
spilling through his panting lips. “Datum gratis. Duo corda sicut
unum. Obligo me ad vos. Offer totum, quod sum et pignus amoris mei
aeterna.”

The orgasm that tore through him left him blind and deaf, tired

and feeble as a newborn kitten as he pumped ropes of seed into
Torren’s convulsing channel. His mate roared out into the night,
sticky streams of cum shooting from his cock to cover his chest, abs,
and even his neck.

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Falling forward, unable to hold himself up for even another

moment, Aslan sighed when his lover caught him in his warm
embrace. “I’ve got you,” Torren whispered into his hair. “I’ve got
you, baby.”

“What the hell just happened?”
He could feel Torren’s lips stretch into a wide grin. “You finally

accepted me as your mate. Even if you didn’t realize it, there was
some part of yourself that you were holding back, too afraid to let
yourself be loved. When you let go of that, accepted who we are and
that we’re meant to be together, it kind of just exploded.”

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” He’d never forgive himself if he’d hurt

Torren.

“I have never experienced anything so amazing. And when you

claimed me, holy fuck. It was like the sun exploded inside my chest.”

Aslan chuckled breathlessly. “That’s exactly what I thought when

you claimed me. What were those words I said? I know what they
meant, but I don’t know the exact wording.”

“Given freely. Two hearts as one. I bind myself to you. Offer all

that I am and the pledge of my eternal love.”

“That’s beautiful. I like that.” It was only then that he noticed the

night around them was silent. Lifting his head from Torren’s naked
shoulder, Aslan scanned the clearing, his hand going to his mouth
when he noticed the multitude of fierce-looking animals, their pale
coats glimmering in the moonlight. “Are they…” He trailed off when
he noticed the two mangled bodies on the ground. “Who are they?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out.” Stavion grimaced as he

sauntered up to them, holding out a hand to pull Torren to his feet.
“Two got away, two are dead, and two others are being escorted to a
nice holding cell.” He looked Torren up and down, and then turned
his gaze on Aslan. “Nice show by the way.”

Aslan’s face went up in flames as he quickly stuffed his limp cock

back into his jeans. “Torren, do something.”

Invincible 147

His lover threw his head back and laughed, the sound coming

straight from his belly. “You started this, caro.” He relented,
however, picking his pants up from the ground and pulling them on.

“So, is it over?”
“Hardly.” Torren’s smile fell from his handsome face. “They’ll

regroup, maybe recruit more, and be back, but we bought some time
to reinforce our defenses.”

They had won this round, but there would be others. Aslan

understood what Torren was trying to tell him, but he felt confident
that as long as they stuck together they could face anything that came
their way. “Let’s get Wren and go home.”

* * * *

“Thane is the only one who can pull Mikko out of Purgatory.”

Torren scrubbed at his face, his eyes itching with sleep deprivation.
He’d been awake for nearly twenty-eight hours, doing what he could
to help ensure the welfare of Haven. Once they’d talked about
security improvements—even adding several new Enforcers with
Ridley’s announcement that he wanted to move some of his pack to
Haven—the topic moved on to finding his brothers.

He had an idea of where to look for Thane, but he was leery of

speaking his suspicions to Stavion. The vampire was either going to
be pissed or devastated. Torren wasn’t looking forward to either
reaction. “From what Aslan tells me, the place he was held before he
came here was close by, a short drive to be exact. I think that’s the
best place to start looking for Thane.”

“Did you say it was a vampire coven?” Raith asked. He looked

haggard, slumping in his chair in the library of Stavion’s mansion.
Torren worried about him, but had no idea how to help his brother
yet.

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Raith’s question made him realize that maybe he didn’t need to

unload the information, but could possibly lead Stavion to the answer.
“Yes, a vampire coven near here.”

“The only coven that’s close by is the Snake River Coven.”

Stavion shook his head, a frown on his face. Torren saw the exact
moment that understanding hit him. Stavion’s head popped up from
its bowed position, and his eyes bored into Torren’s. “No.”

“I’m not saying it’s true, but it’s where we need to start.” Gods, he

didn’t want to see the look of hurt and betrayal on his friend’s face. It
hadn’t been that long since Stavion had been an Enforcer for the
Snake River Coven before taking over the leadership role of Haven.
“I’m sorry, Stavion.”

Stavion held a hand up to halt him. “We’ll do what needs to be

done. I trust you and I trust Aslan. So, Snake River is where we’ll
start.” He pointed to two of his Enforcers. “Varik, Demos, you’ll
leave tomorrow night.”

“I’d like Lynk to go with them.”
Stavion dipped his head. “Good idea.”
A soft grunt drew his attention, and Torren smiled down at Aslan

where the man curled in his lap, sleeping soundly against his chest.
“He’s not going to have an easy life. The voices will always be with
him.”

“Then you teach him how to control them,” Jory said from

Stavion’s side. “Give him something to fight for and a place to feel
safe when it becomes too much.”

“I’d give him the world if I could. He won’t be in this alone.”
The library door opened, and Raven stepped inside, grinning from

ear to ear with a bouncing little boy balanced on his hip. “Look what I
found.”

Aslan jerked awake at Wren’s laughter, rubbing at his eyes and

moving off of Torren’s lap to sit upright, holding his arms out just in
time to catch the little pixie as he sprinted to them. “Hey, you. Did
you have a good nap?”

Invincible 149

Wren bobbed his head energetically. “Yep, but now I’m hungry.

Can I have waffles?”

“Yes!” Jory said enthusiastically. “I love waffles!”
The room erupted into laughter at his outburst, and Torren decided

that happy felt damn good. “Did you find out anything?” he asked
Raven as the Enforcer moved farther into the room and perched on
the arm of one of the sofas.

“Yes.” He looked pointedly at Wren. “I’ll fill you in later, but let’s

just say that it won’t be a problem. There is no one left to fight you
for custody. Congratulations, man.”

Torren had asked Raven to see what he could dig up on Wren’s

biological family. He’d even given him permission to use whatever
brand of interrogation he wanted on the werewolf alpha that had been
holding Wren captive. If Torren understood him correctly, all of
Wren’s family was dead, probably at the hands of that same alpha.
He’d find out later what Raven had learned, but just then his heart
was about to burst out of his chest.

“Hey, little monster, come here.” He lifted Wren into his lap and

looked him in the eye, hoping the boy would understand what he was
about to ask. “Do you remember when you asked if you could stay
with me and Aslan and your uncles?”

Wren bobbed his little head, his hair flopping around in his face.

Torren pushed the locks back and cradled his soft cheeks. “Do you
want to be part of our family, Wren?”

The child looked at him in confusion, but Aslan took his small

hand and drew his attention. “What Torren is trying to ask you is if
you’d like for him to be your daddy.”

“And you?” Aslan nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Wren looked like Santa Claus himself had walked into the room and
dumped a whole sleigh full of toys at his feet. “Yes, yes, yes!” He
squeezed Aslan around the neck and rocked back and forth. “I love
you.”

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“I love you, too.” Aslan closed his eyes tight and hugged Wren

fiercely before letting him go, smiling so brightly that it almost hurt to
look at him.

Then Wren turned his attention on Torren, holding onto his neck

as he buried his face in his throat. “Does Mr. Pokey get to stay, too?”

Petting his silky curls, Torren smiled and kissed the top of Wren’s

head. “Absolutely. And we’ll even get you that puppy.”

Wren nodded, squeezing Torren a little tighter. “I love you,

Daddy.”

Torren doubted there was a dry eye in the room after that. The big,

bad Enforcers coughed or cleared their throats, and all found
something very interesting to look at that conveniently hid their faces.
His own eyes flooded, making his vision blurry, but he didn’t care
who saw them.

He didn’t deserve them, not Wren or Aslan, but he would work

every day to be worthy of their love. Holding his child—his child—in
his arms, he curled his other hand around the back of Aslan’s neck
and pulled him close to kiss his lips gently. “It’s always been you, and
it always will be. I love you, Aslan.”

His mate looked too choked up to get any words out, but that was

okay. Torren saw it, felt it, every time Aslan looked at him, touched
him, or sighed contentedly as he slept in Torren’s arms at night. Aslan
was the sturdy one, the foundation that held up their relationship.
Torren was a powerful witch, but he couldn’t hold a candle to the
magic inside Aslan’s heart.

Hard times waited for them, but they would face whatever came.

Aslan had opened his heart, torn down his walls, and given him a
family in return. Maybe he’d never trust anyone as much as he did
Aslan, but maybe that’s the way it was supposed to be. He’d failed to
keep his mate safe before because he’d refused to reach out for help.

Looking at the men gathered around him, the men who had fought

by his side to protect what mattered most to him, Torren knew he
wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

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Individually they were strong.
Together…they were invincible.

THE END

WWW.GABRIELLEEVANS.COM

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Gabrielle Evans grew up in a small town in southern Oklahoma.

We are talking one red light that may or may not work depending on
the day of the week. She married her high school sweetheart and the
rest is pretty much history. They have two very active boys and one
high-strung wiener dog that keeps her constantly on the go. For now,
she parks her car in central Indiana, but who knows what tomorrow
will bring.

Gabrielle believes in love at first sight, falling hard and fast,

taking chances, and grabbing your happy-ever-after with both hands.
Most importantly, she believes that a great cup of coffee can cure
anything.

Also by Gabrielle Evans

Everlasting Classic ManLove: Haven 1:

Caution: Contents Under Pressure

Everlasting Classic ManLove: Haven 2: Faith, Trust, and Stardust

Everlasting Classic ManLove: Haven 3: Forgotten Sins

Everlasting Classic ManLove: Haven 4: Back Roads

For all other titles, please visit

www.BookStrand.com/Gabrielle-Evans

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com