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Keepers of the Night
ISBN # 978-0-85715-920-5
© Copyright Nikki McCoy 2012
Cover Art by Posh Gosh © Copyright March 2012
Edited by Stacey Birkel
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination
and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or
places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form,
whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of
the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound
Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil
proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs
and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator
of the artwork.
Published in 2012 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL,
United Kingdom.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This
story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 2.
This story contains 189 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book
containing 11 pages.
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Keepers of the Gods
KEEPERS OF THE NIGHT
Nikki McCoy
Through the aftermath of one God’s lust for power, three men must find the courage to love and forgive
if they are to survive the ruthless schemes of a Goddess bent on revenge.
Malen and Turek thought they had found completion when they found each other. Despite
the pain of their pasts, they were able to form a bond built on trust and forged in faith. When
the call came to once again rise up against the cruelty of Mikel, the son of Death, they were
among the first to answer-to battle alongside their friends and defend their race. It was when
Mikel’s reign of terror had been brought to an end, however, that their true battle began.
Xilonen was a man on the edge of desperation. Throughout his tortured life, he’d dreamt
about finding and pleasing his mate. But when the time finally came and he met the two men
destined to be his for all eternity, his dreams were brought to a shattering halt. Forced to
betray his Gods, his kind, and his mates, Xilonen went on the run. But soon he found that he
alone could not protect his brother, Shayne, from the cunning plans of their mother, the
Goddess of Night. He needed strength, guidance and courage.
He needed Malen and Turek.
Now they must find it within themselves to move past the pain of betrayal and lies to the
love and faith that could bind their hearts. But will they find it in time to stop Night from
stripping Shayne of what she had so heartlessly taken from Xilonen…his innocence?
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Dedication
To those who are able to look beyond the physical appearance, the past, and the mistakes, to
the true beauty that lies within our hearts and those of the ones we love.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following
wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
MS Contin: Purdue Pharma
Explorer: Ford Motor Company
Xbox 360: Microsoft Corporation
Greyhound: Greyhound Corporation
Bacitracin: Xellia Pharmaceuticals
Harley: Harley-Davidson USA
Tripp: Tripp NYC, Inc.
Twizzlers: The Hershey Company
Jacuzzi: Jacuzzi Brands, Inc.
Mustang: Ford Motor Company
Coke: Coca-Cola Company
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Prologue
“Return him to me now!”
Xilonen stumbled at the angry shout, losing his grip on the stack of plates he carried.
“I should have killed you when you were born, you worthless piece of filth. He’s mine, not yours!
No one could ever love something as pitiful as you. You’re a monster, just like your father was.”
As his knees hit the linoleum floor, the pain of shattered ceramic slicing through his
jeans and flesh was barely registered over the ruthless, mental assault of the Goddess of
Night. Clenching his head as though it might break apart, he weathered out the storm of
blistering insults. They ripped through his mind in a whirlwind of violent rage, threatening
to steal his sanity. Then, just as swiftly as it had come, the storm passed. His mother’s
thoughts faded to a low hum and joined the sea of others that never allowed him a moment’s
peace.
After taking several deep breaths, he climbed unsteadily to his feet. Blood trickled
down his shins and he lifted his pant legs to inspect the damage. A few of the cuts were
particularly deep but it was nothing that wouldn’t keep until he got back to the motel.
He glanced nervously at the open door of the office on the other side of the kitchen. His
co-workers had already left for the day, but there was no way his boss wouldn’t have heard
the echoing crash of dishes. This was the seventh time he’d broken something in the past two
weeks since starting the job. Jerry was always nice about it, blowing off the incidents as
accidents, but Xilonen knew it was only a matter of time before the man started docking his
pay.
Xilonen threw away the largest shards of the broken plates then went to the utility
closet. There was a noticeable tremor in his hands as he reached for the broom and dustpan.
He needed a drink badly. Not only to keep the DTs at bay, but to calm his nerves as well. The
drugs only drowned out a portion of his power, forcing him to find additional ways to cope.
Only two more chores left before he could collect his pay for the night and hit up the liquor
store around the corner.
Jerry poked his head out of the office as he began sweeping. “Are you okay out there?”
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Too embarrassed to look up, he replied, “Yeah. Almost done.”
“Good, good. When you get that cleaned up, why don’t you come see me in my office?”
A sick feeling swept through him and it took all that he had to keep his expression
neutral as he looked up. He knew what was coming but hadn’t expected it to happen so
soon. Of all the employers that had taken him on, Jerry had been the only one to treat him
like a decent person despite his many faults. The guy had the kind of personality that sucked
people in and made them feel good about themselves—whether they wanted to or not. It had
inspired Xilonen to work harder, try harder to become the kind of employee a trusting man
like Jerry deserved.
He gave a quick nod then finished cleaning up his mess. In Jerry’s office, he took the
chair in front of the desk and waited for his boss to decide how to break the news to him.
“I want you to know that I think you’re a great kid. A hard worker. And that’s a rare
quality to find in an employee nowadays, but I’m afraid I have to let you go.” Jerry’s brows
were slanted down in what appeared to be sincere regret, his plump face pinched and
lacking its usual joviality.
Xilonen knew the reasons why, but he still couldn’t stop himself from trying to salvage
his only means of income. “If it’s about the dishes, you can dock their cost from my pay. I’ll
try to be more careful.”
The man sighed and leant back in his chair. “It’s not that. Everyone has accidents. Look,
I told you this would be a temporary job when I took you on. Without any form of
identification, I can’t officially register you with the government as an employee. That also
makes it impossible for me to prove your age. I know you said you’re twenty-one but, in all
honesty, you do look like you’re seventeen. And, since I sell alcoholic drinks, I just can’t take
the risk of ABC coming in here and pulling my licence for having a minor under my
employment. I’ve already got another man for the position.”
Jerry reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a white envelope. “I’ve
included an extra fifty with your pay. I’m really sorry to have to do this but I’m sure you
understand. Try Sheila’s Diner down the block. She might have some work for you.”
Xilonen smiled weakly as he took the envelope. He’d been to every business in town
searching for work. The few owners who had agreed to pay him under the table had fired
him shortly afterwards for the same reasons Jerry was too polite to admit to now. No one
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wanted to work with a dysfunctional reject who had to rely on drugs and alcohol to get him
through each day. He would never fit into normal society, but neither did he have the option
to stop trying. Not with the responsibility that was waiting for him back at his motel room.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll do that.”
Jerry’s face crinkled in concern and he opened his mouth to say more, but Xilonen
quickly rose from his chair and left the office. He’d worn out his welcome and couldn’t take
another pity speech. They were so much worse than the disgust and hatred he encountered
most of the time. After grabbing his jacket from the wall hook in the kitchen, he left the
building through the back door and made his way to the only liquor store where they didn’t
card him.
By the time he arrived back at the cheap motel he rented a room from, half of the bottle
was empty. The owner, Rick, was waiting for him behind the counter as he walked in. With
grey-specked hair and skin like leather, it was hard to believe the man was only in his mid-
thirties. Time hadn’t been kind to him, but then Rick wasn’t the type of man to appreciate
kindness in any form.
A shiver coursed through Xilonen as the man’s lust-filled gaze travelled over his body.
The memories that look induced surged to the forefront of his thoughts and he shook his
head in an attempt to get rid of them. This man was a human. Twice his size and with a
disturbing attraction towards him, but essentially harmless. Not a half-God bent on making
him suffer for his obstinacy.
Rick blatantly adjusted himself, leaving his hand on his crotch to rub it suggestively. “I
wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. Get fired from another job?”
Xilonen ignored the question. He pulled the envelope from the inside of his jacket
pocket, handed it to Rick and waited while the cash was counted.
“There’s only ninety-seven dollars here. You still owe me a hundred and three.”
“The rest is in my room. I’ll be right back with it.”
Rick reached out and caught his wrist before he could leave. “You don’t have to, you
know. My offer still stands.”
Xilonen jerked back but the man only tightened his grip. Fear spiked his heart rate and,
before he could mask it, Rick pulled him closer to the counter.
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“Let go of me.” The anger he tried desperately to muster wouldn’t come, leaving his
demand to come out as a breathless plea.
Human. He’s just a human! Xilonen reminded himself.
“Do me one good and I’ll make sure you get all the business you can handle. I know
you can use the money to feed your brat, not to mention your little habit there.” Rick’s gaze
shifted to the bottle in Xilonen’s hand.
At the mention of his brother, the anger that had been eluding him rushed to the
surface.
“I’ll get you the money.” Yanking his wrist free, he kept his eyes on the man as he
backed out of the office. Rick wasn’t gay, but he’d screw anything with a hole and, right then,
Xilonen didn’t trust him to take no for an answer.
Once he was sure Rick wouldn’t follow him outside, he took another swig of whisky
and walked to his room. Noise from the TV inside blasted him as he opened the door. Sitting
on the twin beds, he found his brother and a guy he didn’t recognise playing on the Xbox 360
he’d bought Shayne for his last birthday. The stranger had to be at least a decade older than
Xilonen, with lanky, dirty-blond hair held back by a baseball cap and a well-defined chest
covered only by a wife-beater.
Xilonen’s anger should have flooded him at that moment but, after his mother’s recent
attack, all he could feel was the pang of betrayal.
“Shayne.” His voice too low to carry over the volume, he shut the door and walked
over to the dresser to turn off the TV.
“Hey, asshole! I was playing my game.”
Xilonen forced himself to look his kid brother in the eye, something he hadn’t been able
to do in months, and pointed to the man sitting on the other bed. “Stop cussing. You
promised me you wouldn’t let anyone into this room while I was gone.”
Shayne jumped up, his small hands fisted tightly at his sides. “No, I didn’t. You told me
not to let anyone in, just like you told me I couldn’t go anywhere alone or talk to anyone you
didn’t approve of first. I’m stuck here all day in this piece o’ shit room while you get to go
out and do whatever the hell you want. I’m sick of it! If I wanna bring my friends over, I
will.”
Xilonen could only stare, frozen in shock.
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“Calm down, man,” the stranger told him. “I’m one of the good guys. I found him
wandering around out by the Sundance shopping mall and thought I’d make sure he was
safe. Not a good place to be after dark.”
Xilonen turned to acknowledge the guy, who stood up and offered his hand. The man
was about half a head taller and fairly clean, which at least gave the impression that he
wasn’t homeless. The smile that revealed straight teeth softened the rough edges of his looks,
but did nothing to hide the leering glint in his eyes.
Xilonen took an involuntary step back then willed his body to still. “Look, thanks…”
“Todd.”
“Uhh…Todd. Thanks for bringing him back here safely but I’ve had a really bad day. I
think it’s best if you leave.”
Todd stepped in closer. Xilonen couldn’t stop himself from flinching as one of the guy’s
hands came up to cup his cheek while the other clasped his waist firmly. His breath
quickened at the close proximity.
“I didn’t stay here just to play games with the little dude. He told me a lot about you.”
A violent shiver passed through Xilonen and he moved back only to find himself
trapped by the dresser behind him. Todd inched forwards, bringing them close enough for
Xilonen to feel hot breath fan his hair.
“We all get lonely sometimes. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, although I find it hard to
believe you’re still a virgin. Sexy as you are, you’ve got to have men chasing you down all
the time.”
Xilonen looked over in horror at his little brother, who had the audacity to blush.
Shayne shrugged one shoulder but held his gaze in defiance.
“Thought maybe if you got laid you’d loosen up a bit. Maybe settle down and get a life
so I can go back to Mom. You can’t keep waiting for…you know…”
Xilonen did know, but he didn’t want to think about the mates he’d wanted to save his
virginity for right then. Discovering his brother was so unhappy that he’d set him up with a
stranger just to go back to their mother was bad enough. Swallowing past the lump in his
throat, he pushed at Todd’s chest but the man wouldn’t budge. “Get out.”
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Todd took his waist in both hands and ground their hips together. Bile rose up as the
hard length of the man’s arousal rubbed against his flaccid cock. “I’ll be gentle with you. I’ll
even get us a spare room so your brother can stay here.”
Xilonen turned his head just as Todd leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “Get out!” he
shouted. Absorbing a portion of the man’s energy, he shoved as hard as he could. Todd
stumbled back, taken unawares by the sudden lethargy created by the loss of energy, and hit
the window beside the door.
The human shook his head as if to clear it. “I’m only trying to help,” he said in a harsh
tone. “Your brother doesn’t deserve a drunk looking after him.”
No. His brother deserved so much more than anything Xilonen could provide for him,
but damned if he was going to justify his actions to a complete stranger. Knowing he didn’t
have the strength to win a physical fight, Xilonen took in more of the man’s energy then
shoved him out of the room.
“Stay away from us or I’ll call the cops.”
It was an utter bluff but the human didn’t need to know that. After slamming the door
closed, he went to the closet and grabbed a bottle of pills from the top shelf. Doubling his
usual dose, he washed down four of them with the liquor still in his hand. The pair of duffel
bags also on the shelf came next, and he tossed them onto the nearest bed before yanking
open the dresser drawer.
“What are you doing?” Shayne asked.
He continued to pull out their clothes and stuff them into the bags.
“Z, I’m sorry I brought that guy over. I just thought… I know you want to save yourself
for your mate, but if you keep running like this you’ll never find him. I don’t know what’s
going on with you anymore. Ever since you came back from your trip, you’ve been
acting…different. What happened to you?”
A single tear leaked out but Xilonen brushed it away. His brother had every right to be
angry with him. Xilonen had torn him away from the only life he’d known and forced him to
go on the run for reasons he couldn’t explain. Nothing was stable, and, with the potential of
danger lurking in every shadow they crossed, Shayne was being given no choice but to live
in a cage of solitude no twelve-year-old should have to endure.
“Talk to me, damn it!” Shayne yelled.
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That stopped him. Xilonen turned to face the fury and anguish shining in his brother’s
eyes. On the outside, Shayne was an exact replica of himself at a younger age. Straight, black
bangs fell forward at an angle to conceal one of his large, sky-blue eyes. His frame was
slightly small for his age, but that would change with maturity. It was the innocence in his
delicate features, however, that marked them as worlds apart.
Between their father’s insanity and their mother’s crushing obsession with power,
Xilonen had never had the childhood he wanted so much for his brother. Shayne was
everything to him. The very reason for his existence. And yet, staring into the deep well of
his brother’s need to understand what was going on, he knew he could no longer keep
fooling himself. Even if he wasn’t handicapped by his power, he didn’t have the resources to
keep Shayne safe from everyone out to destroy their lives. By trying, he was only succeeding
in taking away the very thing he was trying to protect.
Shayne’s innocence.
Xilonen set the bottle aside and sank to his knees, burying his face in his hands. When
two thin arms wrapped around him, he felt his resistance crumble. Squeezing his eyes closed,
he leaned into Shayne’s comforting embrace.
“Is it the Gods? Did they find out about us?” Shayne whispered.
Xilonen nodded. Not exactly the truth, but not a lie either.
“Why don’t you tell Mom? She’ll know where to hide us so we don’t have to keep
moving.”
His heart ached at the simplicity of those words. If only it were that easy. With the other
Gods and Keepers, he might stand a chance at convincing them that Shayne had held no part
in their mother’s treachery. By the law that had been passed several years ago, children born
of the union between a God and a Keeper could not be killed unless they used their powers
to cause harm to others.
Xilonen would be found guilty and put to death immediately, which didn’t bother him
at all. In fact, it would be a blessing. But that would leave Shayne vulnerable to the schemes
of their mother, and, no matter how much the Goddess of Night pretended to love her
youngest son, Xilonen knew it was only a farce.
He hugged his brother back, taking refuge in the comfort. The money he had saved was
only enough to get them to another town where he could try his luck with work again. They
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would be homeless wherever they ended up until he could make enough to afford another
motel room. The gamble that he would be able to do that on the first day of their arrival was
too much of a risk. He needed to find someone with the means and willingness to care for his
brother and keep Shayne hidden. Someone who was strong enough to keep him from the
clutches of their mother.
Someone like…
A low keening slipped past his control but he quickly turned it into a growl. The idea
he’d been fighting ever since returning from his trip had become inevitable. There was no
other choice. Xilonen could still see the hurt and betrayal on the faces of the men he’d been
longing for his entire life. A bitter laugh bubbled up in his chest but he swallowed it down.
For years he’d been so afraid that his mate would see all of his faults and reject him for them,
but, when the time had finally come and he’d found not one but two walking dreams meant
only for him, it was he who’d done the rejecting.
It didn’t matter that he’d been forced to in order to keep Shayne safe. Or that he’d done
what he’d had to in order to give his mates the best chance at survival. He’d thrown away
their trust, and this time it wouldn’t only be pain that he saw when he looked upon them
again. It would be hatred and contempt—the two things he would rather die than receive
from his mates. But there was no other option left. As much as they might despise him, he
knew they wouldn’t blame his brother for his actions. They were better than that.
So much better than him.
Pulling away, he stood and finished packing their meagre belongings. “Mom can’t help
us this time, but I think I know who can. Get the rest of your stuff. We’re leaving.”
“Who is it?”
“A few guys I met while I was away. Do you need to take a shower?”
“No,” Shayne said coldly. “I took one earlier. Are you going to tell me where you’re
taking me this time or is it going to be another surprise?”
Xilonen paused at the return of his brother’s anger. He’d always had to keep a portion
of his life separate from what he shared with Shayne, but recent events of the past five
months had created a rift between them that could never be bridged. Not if he wanted to
hold on to the little respect his brother still had for him.
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“I’m sorry I keep dragging you from town to town, but this might be the last time we
have to move. Please, just…get ready.”
The urge to argue was in his brother’s eyes, but thankfully Shayne held his tongue and
gathered the rest of their things. Xilonen paid off their motel bill and called a cab to take
them to the Greyhound bus station. After purchasing two tickets to Ruidoso, New Mexico,
where his mates had previously told him they lived, he took a seat on a cold, plastic chair
next to his brother and hoped he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of their lives.
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Chapter One
In the early morning light, the familiar terrain of the Sierra Blanca mountain range came
into view. Snow was just beginning to melt from the treetops and animals were emerging
from their winter shelters to greet the coming of spring. The greenery of the forests was a
welcome change from the constant glare of city lights and haze of pollution that cloaked the
stars at night. But there was no relief to be found in the tranquil atmosphere. He was
beginning to think there never would be until their search was over…and even then only if it
was successful.
Anger seethed and broiled in his gut. At this point, he was ready to kill the very man
they were trying to save. For months they’d been travelling almost nonstop. Malen had lost a
family he’d been a part of for centuries and turned his entire life upside down.
And for what? A brat who obviously didn’t want to be found, much less helped. For the
third time that morning he cursed his rigid sense of responsibility.
It was like they were chasing a shadow in the dead of night. One that was purposefully
eluding them, for reasons he hadn’t the slightest clue about. And yet he knew he couldn’t
give up. By some maddening twist of fate, he and Turek had been given another mate—a
man born with the unique qualities that should complete them. However, those qualities had
yet to be revealed to him.
Yes, Xilonen had prevented the slaughtering of an army of Keepers gathered to defend
their race, of which Malen and Turek had been members, but he’d done so at the needless
expense of others’ lives. Then there was the question of his involvement with Mikel, the half-
God who had started the rebellion. During the final battle, it had appeared as though Xilonen
had given the defenders an edge by distracting Mikel and his men. If that were the case,
however, why had he fled the scene afterwards instead of owning up to his actions?
Things just didn’t add up where his second mate was concerned.
Frustration rivalled his anger and he wondered just what in all the Gods he was doing
chasing after a halfling who wanted nothing to do with him. But he knew why. A picture of
the man who plagued his thoughts and dreams popped into his mind.
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Xilonen was everything and nothing he would have envisioned in a mate. Physically,
he was breathtaking. Lean and finely boned with a sinuous layer of muscle underneath pale
flesh. Above full lips and a straight, pert nose was a set of thickly fringed eyes coloured the
most striking shade of electric blue that Malen had ever seen. His long, silken hair had often
fallen across his face the times Malen had seen him, hiding it as though to add mystery to his
delicate features.
All of this beauty, however, was distorted by a veil of distrust and a fuck-you attitude.
Malen understood that everyone was entitled to physically portray themselves in any way
they felt comfortable, but one couldn’t help but get the distinct impression that Xilonen
looked the way he did in order to repel others. Malen’s mind also couldn’t keep from
wondering what kind of person hid behind that two-toned black and red hair, the multiple
piercings, and black, gothic-style clothes.
And would that person ever want to get to know him and Turek?
Malen shook off the painful tightening in his chest. He couldn’t afford to let his
emotions get in the way. He would find his second mate and keep him safe until the threat to
his life passed. What Xilonen chose to do after that was completely up to him.
Thirty minutes later, Malen pulled into the garage and cut the engine to his Harley.
Turek was already off his bike, saddlebags in hand, and waiting for him by the door. Malen
gathered his own luggage and kissed his mate briefly as he entered their cabin. He threw his
bags carelessly onto the couch then made a beeline for the stairs leading to the den below.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll be up in a few,” he said without looking back. “Just need to take care of something
first.”
Like the pent-up frustration that was riding him hard. A whisper of strained energy
from Turek brushed his senses as he rushed down to their gym. He knew he wasn’t being
fair to his mate. Turek was suffering just as much as he was. They were no closer to finding
Xilonen than they’d been from the start, and the stress of racing to get to the man before
someone else did was beginning wear on them. But at that moment, he didn’t trust himself to
keep a lid on his personal doubts.
Grabbing a pair of loose shorts and a tank top from a small dresser in the corner, he
quickly changed and pulled his hair into a band at the nape of his neck. The cold, padded
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bench felt good against his heated skin. It was easy to fall into the familiar rhythm of his
workout. Thoughts were lost to the burn of muscles being pushed beyond their endurance.
Sweat trickled down his temples and between his shoulders blades and still he pushed
harder. When exhaustion hit, he wanted it to be deep and consuming.
One period of rest without the constant stress of responsibility. That was all he was
asking for.
It was while he was on his back, arms stretched out to his sides with a cap barbell in
each hand, that he felt the front of his shorts pulled down and a streak of hot moisture swipe
the tip of his cock. Malen dropped the weights and lifted his head in time to see the
mischievous glint in Turek’s caramel-coloured eyes before they were covered by his mane of
light brown waves. A low hiss escaped Malen’s mouth as scorching heat engulfed his cock in
a single move. Blood pooled to his groin and the sudden swelling of his dick had him
gasping for air. His mate’s throat muscles began to work the sensitive head mercilessly.
Just as swiftly, Turek came back up. The suction of his mouth was so tight that Malen’s
cock had no choice but to obey its demands. It lengthened and filled to its full girth until the
lips that surrounded it were stretched wide. Another swipe of the tongue across the weeping
slit and those lips were once more buried in the coarse hair at his base. Malen resisted the
urge to thread his fingers through the other man’s soft hair. One touch and he wouldn’t be
able to restrain himself from taking over—assuming control as he set his own furious pace.
Turek was extremely submissive in the bedroom. So much so that Malen had to
constantly monitor his aggressiveness. Watching his mate bend to his will—hearing him beg
to be taken harder, rougher—was the strongest aphrodisiac he’d ever experienced. With his
long, sculpted body and coiled strength beneath golden skin, Turek exemplified everything
he’d ever wanted in a lover and a partner.
The occasions on which his mate asserted himself sexually were different but no less
stimulating. They also took place only when Turek was trying to prove a point…and
whatever that was this time, Malen knew better than to rush the man into making it. Not to
mention the fact that he didn’t want to. Some people chose fighting to get their arguments
across. Turek chose displays of love.
And damned if they didn’t grab his attention faster than anything else could have.
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Malen stopped him only long enough to strip out of his shorts then leant back on the
bench, folding his hands behind his head to keep from giving into temptation. Turek took
him to the hilt over and over again. His mouth was a furnace that boiled Malen’s adrenalin-
laced blood and pumped him until his hips began to thrust forwards with each strong pull.
“That’s it, baby. Damn, that feels so good. Don’t stop.” Malen groaned as his balls
tightened and he arched his back, ready to shout out his orgasm. But it never came. The
moist warmth of Turek’s mouth left his cock to travel lower. He bit back a curse as his cock
continued to throb without attention.
This was a first.
Dealing torture had always been, up until that moment, his domain. Propping himself
up on one elbow, his protest died before it had a chance as Turek swiped the flat of his
tongue along the crease of Malen’s ass while fisting his erection at the same time. Malen
grabbed the bars above his head and lifted his feet onto the wide bench, allowing his lover
better access to his sensitive hole.
Turek paused to look up and ask, “What do you like about me?”
The question threw Malen off. For a brief second, his mind flashed back to the rocky
start of their relationship, but there was no uncertainty marring his mate’s flawless features.
Large, gorgeous eyes held his with a quiet confidence.
“I love everything about you. You know that.”
Turek slid his hand up and down on Malen’s cock, keeping his grip firm and squeezing
slightly just under the head on each upstroke. His tongue lapped teasingly over Malen’s
entrance. Delicious sensations danced along Malen’s skin, drawing out a loud moan from
deep in his chest.
“Do you love me when I challenge you? Drive you insane?”
In the back of his mind, he knew the odd conversation was leading somewhere, but his
concentration fled as one of his balls was sucked into the cavern of Turek’s hot mouth. His
mate increased the strokes of his hand and rolled his tongue languidly. When he switched to
the other ball, Malen thought he would go insane if Turek kept him on the brink any longer.
“Especially when you drive me crazy. Like you’re doing now.”
A low rumble of laughter vibrated along his genitals. Turek sucked in one last time then
dipped his head lower to lick eagerly at Malen’s hole again. As Turek’s tongue gently probed
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the bud of his entrance, the streak of fire that raced down his spine was the last straw. With a
growl, Malen jumped up, pulling his naked mate up with him. By the wrist, he led Turek to
the nearest exercise machine, a sitting bench with handlebars and weights attached to the
back.
He guided Turek to stand straddling the seat and placed his mate’s hands on a bar high
above his head. Another growl came out when he easily slid two fingers into his mate’s
clenching hole. Too easily. He pushed in a third and speared them in and out, covering them
with the lube that already coated his mate’s inner walls. An image of his mate slicking and
stretching his own entrance in preparation caused Malen’s cock to jerk and weep pre-cum.
“I’m ready,” Turek panted breathlessly. “Fuck me. Hard.”
Malen groaned at the desperate tone. “Good. You’ve made me wait long enough.”
Lining himself up, he grabbed Turek’s hips in both hands and plunged forwards. Turek’s
sharp cry echoed throughout the room, spurring him on. The surge of pain and pleasure in
his mate’s energy washed over him in a searing wave of ecstasy. He set up a fast, brutal
pace—pounding into Turek’s depths relentlessly. After the infuriating tease earlier, he knew
he wasn’t going to last long. Reaching around with one hand, he clasped Turek’s hard cock
and stroked it in time with his thrusts.
“I’m gonna—” Turek’s sentence was cut off by a loud shout. His body stiffened as he
sprayed the equipment with long, pearly ropes of cum. Malen’s orgasm was an unstoppable
force, rushing through him with the speed of a bullet. He came hard, burying himself deep as
his mate’s ass milked him for several seconds.
When he was finally able to move again, he tugged Turek’s hands down from the bar
and turned him around. The half-lidded look of satisfaction in his mate’s eyes was almost
enough to get him going again, but instead he settled for a slow, passionate kiss.
“Come on. It’s time I took you to bed.”
They climbed the stairs to the third floor and Turek stood to the side in the bathroom
while Malen pulled off his shirt and started the shower. Once inside, he took his time
washing his mate’s hair and every part of his body. Exhaustion was beginning to take effect
but Turek had yet to voice whatever was bothering him. Fortunately, Malen didn’t have long
to wait.
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“We weren’t always like this,” Turek said softly. “I gave you plenty of reasons to give
up on me, but you didn’t.”
Malen paused as he was reminded again of their struggle at the beginning of their
relationship. Cupping his mate’s cheek, he replied, “I knew you were worth fighting for.
Your behaviour was a survival mechanism. No one could blame you for it.”
“And you can’t blame him for it. Not if he did what he had to in order to survive.”
So that’s what this was about.
Scowling, he dropped his hand and began washing the sweat from his own body. “I’m
not the one blaming Xilonen. It’s every other Keeper and God out there jumping to
conclusions.” When there was no reply, he looked back to see a single raised eyebrow calling
his bluff. Malen sighed in exasperation. He should have known better than to try to fool his
mate. Turek had an uncanny ability to look past the barrier that most people erected around
their emotions to find the truth within.
“I just don’t understand him. With you, it was different. I knew why you were angry
and, with the advice of a few good friends, I was able to get to know you and help you get
over your past. But Xilonen took those options away when he ran. We know next to nothing
about him and, by running, he only made himself out to look like the criminal everyone
thinks he is. Hell, I can’t even blame our pack for deserting us. Most of them had family
members guarding the Vishian that could have been saved had he let us handle it.”
Turek’s brow furrowed. “Is that what’s really bothering you? The fact that our family is
hunting him instead of giving us the chance to prove his innocence?”
He remained silent for a while to gather his thoughts. There had never been lies
between them, and, as reluctant as he was to hurt his mate, he couldn’t lie to him now.
Shame had lived in his heart since the day their pack had turned their backs on them, though
they’d had every right to. Their pack members’ lives, along with nearly the entire population
of Keepers’, had been altered in drastic proportions. All because of the greed of a few Gods.
All Keepers were born with the ability to absorb energy from living things, and, once
that energy built up to a certain point, they released it to their Gods who used the energy to
sustain themselves. More than five years ago, the God of Death had devised a plan to gain
control over his fellow deities. He’d impregnated two Keepers, an act that would’ve resulted
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in the offspring’s deaths at the time had anyone discovered them, and planned on using his
halfling children to his advantage.
Mikel, one of Death’s sons, had obeyed his father by rallying as many Keepers as he
could to pay homage to only the God of Death. Those who’d chosen not to had either been
captured or murdered. With enough Keepers to send up their energy to Death alone, the
other Gods would have been dependent upon him for their rations of energy. In the end,
Mikel had nearly succeeded in reaching his father’s goal with the help of the Goddess of
Night and her halfling son, Xilonen.
Malen and Turek had banded with those Keepers dedicated to stopping Mikel, but,
with no way of finding the man, they’d been at a loss. Then a golden opportunity had arisen
that would have enabled them to take out a good portion of Mikel’s men and possibly the
half-God himself. That had been quickly squashed, however, when Xilonen had sabotaged
their plans in the span of a few minutes. Not only had Xilonen enabled Mikel to free a horde
of his followers being held in a prison called the Vishian, but he’d also instigated the capture
of Malen, Turek and two others by the son of Death.
Xilonen had betrayed both parts of his heritage. It had been by sheer luck that Malen
and the others had defeated Mikel only a few days later.
Or so they had thought.
According to their friend Jace, Xilonen had saved them by sabotaging their plan to
battle Mikel when the half-God had gone to free his men from the Vishian. The Goddess of
Night had been lying in wait, unbeknownst to them, to aid Mikel in slaughtering them.
They’d also discovered the whereabouts of Mikel’s prisoners when Xilonen had brought
about their capture by Mikel. Without that knowledge, they might’ve unwittingly harmed
the prisoners during their attack on Mikel’s men.
But, since Xilonen had disappeared after the final battle, the only one left to testify to his
good intent was Jace—a man who’d been abused and tortured by Mikel for five years.
Although Malen and those who knew Jace didn’t doubt his word for a second, the others—
including the Gods—found it hard to believe. They wanted Xilonen dead for the part he’d
played.
There had been no hesitation on Malen’s part to decide to find Xilonen and protect him,
but losing the support of his family had cut Malen deeply. While most of his anger was
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directed at his former pack, a good portion of it was reserved for Xilonen. Until he knew
more, his mind wouldn’t release the blame it had put on his second mate for driving a wedge
between him and his family.
After drying off, they lay down in bed. Malen pulled Turek close, taking comfort in the
solid feel of the warmth pressed against his body. “It does bother me, but I can’t say that I
think Xilonen is as innocent as you want to believe. I love that you have such a big heart. I’m
just worried that it might get hurt somewhere down the road. You’re my responsibility, and I
won’t let that happen if I can help it.”
“He’s our responsibility, too,” Turek chided gently.
As he stared down at his mate’s face resting on his shoulder, he was awed by the
unwavering faith he saw there. It was mirrored in the calming flow of energy the man was
emitting. How could he doubt that when it was Turek’s faith in him that had eventually
allowed love to bind them together?
“I know, but the next time you want to prove a point, at least let me come once before
you drive me crazy with that mouth of yours.”
Turek chuckled and moved in closer. “Not a chance. That was too much fun.”
Malen snorted but kept his mouth shut. He couldn’t argue with that. After kissing the
crown of his mate’s head, he closed his eyes and drifted into a peaceful slumber.
Some time later, the buzz of his cell phone jerked him awake. Blinking the sleep from
his eyes, he reached over to grab it from the nightstand before it could wake his mate.
“Speak,” he said gruffly.
“Please tell me you’re at home and not still on the road.”
Shock chased away the last vestiges of sleep fogging his mind and he gently eased
himself from Turek’s slack hold. He hadn’t heard from Collen in four months and he didn’t
particularly want to hear from him now. As far as he was concerned, their friendship had
ended the day Collen had chosen the pack instead of aiding him in finding Xilonen.
Closing the door to the bedroom, he padded down the hallway before talking again.
“Yeah, I’m at home. What the hell do you want, Collen?”
“Look, I know you’re pissed off at me, but you need to get your ass down here. Now. If
anyone else sees him, they’ll call in the whole convoy and I won’t be able to hold all of them
off.”
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Malen frowned at the urgency in the other man’s voice. “What are you talking about?”
“There’s a young guy down here with red and black hair and piercings asking for you
by name. Fit the description of anyone you know?”
A chill froze him in place. “Did he give you his name?”
“No. He clammed up as soon as I agreed to contact you.”
Malen’s thoughts whirled. It sounded exactly like Xilonen. In his home town.
Unguarded and in the presence of a Keeper who’d sided with the others out to take revenge
on his second mate.
“If you hurt him in any way, I’ll tear your ass apart, you hear me?”
“I won’t, but fuck… The guy’s a looker, and not just because of the way he’s dressed.
He won’t go anywhere with me and he’s drawing attention like you wouldn’t believe. Come
to the truck stop and bring Turek with you. He isn’t the only one you’ll need to pick up.”
The line went dead before he could ask what Collen had meant by that. Malen sprang
into action in the next heartbeat. In the bedroom, he began pulling clothes from the closet
and tossing them onto the bed.
“Wake up, babe. Time to go.”
Turek rubbed his eyes and glared his annoyance. “What’s got your panties in a bunch?”
Despite the severity of the situation, he smiled at his mate. Turek’s good nature needed
at least an hour and a strong cup of coffee after waking to kick in.
“I think we found our mate, or rather Collen did. They’re waiting for us at the truck
stop.”
“What? You mean Xilonen’s here?” Turek scrambled to put on his clothes.
“I’m pretty sure it’s him, and so is Collen. We need to hurry, though.”
“You think?” Turek spat out sarcastically. “Did Collen call in the pack? If he touches a
single hair on our mate—”
“I’ll kill him,” Malen finished. “He said he’d keep Xilonen safe until we got down
there.”
“He’d better. I don’t care what he did for me in the past. I’ll skin him alive if he breaks
his word.”
Yeah. Definitely not a morning person.
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In the garage, Malen strapped an extra helmet to the back of his motorcycle then
handed the second spare to Turek.
“Are we picking up someone else?”
“Possibly, from the sound of it.”
Wasting no more time, they put their bikes in gear and rode into town. It was early
evening. The sun was already hidden behind the tops of the mountains surrounding them
but there was enough light left to see clearly without headlights. The truck stop was located
towards the other end of town. It was crowded at this time of day. A line of semis filled the
back section of the lot while cars and bikes drove in and out of the front by the gas pumps.
Malen spotted a few members of his former crew but they appeared to be chatting
casually off to the side. Turek followed him around to the back of the building. They came to
a stop as soon as Collen’s gold and black Harley came into view. Beside it, Malen recognised
the tall, blond figure of his old friend. A group of men walked over to Collen, cutting off his
line of sight. As he neared, the angry tone of Collen’s voice could be heard over the noise of
vehicles and other people.
When he saw one of the men go down, he rushed forwards and shoved his way
through the group. Collen’s eyes were snapping fury at the man on the ground.
“Come at me again, asshole. I’ll make sure you can’t piss straight for the rest of your
life.”
A flash of red behind Collen caught Malen’s eye and his heart sped up. He wasn’t sure
what was going on but, whatever it was, he didn’t have time for it. Snatching the man up
from the ground, Malen threw him to his friends then crossed his arms over his chest beside
Collen, with Turek taking up position on the other side. Judging from the beers in their
hands and their wrinkled outfits, the men appeared to be truckers out looking for a good
time.
“There a problem here?” Malen asked, staring each man in the eye and daring them to
goad him into a fight.
“Come on, man, it’s not worth it,” one trucker said to the man Collen had shoved.
“There’s plenty more ‘round here. Let’s hit up the bar.” Both men sneered at Malen and
Collen but wisely turned to leave with the others.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Malen looked to Collen. “What was that about?”
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The blond pointed at the wall of the building behind them. “Don’t take this the wrong
way, but he’s attractive. Around a bunch of drunk truckers, the fact that he’s a guy doesn’t
matter one bit.”
Malen could only stare as a mixture of emotions churned in his gut. Standing against
the wall was Xilonen, exactly as Malen had seen him last. Only he’d forgotten how alluring
he was. His mate was about a foot shorter than him, even though he probably stood at five-
seven. His already slim frame was even thinner than Malen remembered. Straight hair—red
on top and black underneath—feathered softly in the wind. Through the locks that blew
across his pale face, Malen could make out his fine-boned features, like white porcelain in the
fading light.
Vibrant blue eyes flicked from side to side between him and Turek. They shone with
defiance, although it was fear that Malen could feel coming from the man in waves through
his energy. How could he have forgotten how young and lost Xilonen seemed?
Easily.
He’d let the hurt and pain of the past several months cloud his memories and
judgement. Turek’s earlier words came back to chastise him. Xilonen still needed to be held
accountable for his actions, but all Malen could see in front of him was a frightened young
man with not an ounce of trust in his shifting gaze.
One of Xilonen’s hands was held by a kid standing next to him. A smaller version of
him, without the whole goth ensemble. The boy’s eyelids were peeled back as he stared,
open-mouthed, at Malen and Turek. Long, black bangs covered one side of his face, his hair
trimmed short in the back. Unlike Xilonen, he had a thick jacket on to ward off the chill of the
wind and gave off an excited, if slightly wary, vibe.
“Is this your mate?” Collen asked.
“Yes,” Turek breathed. He took a step forwards but stopped when Xilonen tensed.
“You need to come with us. It’s not safe for you out here.”
The kid whipped his head around to Xilonen. “These are your friends?” he asked
incredulously.
“His mates,” Malen corrected. If the kid’s jaw dropped any more, he’d have to go into
the truck stop to buy a shovel.
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“How could you not tell me?” the kid asked in a voice full of outrage. “When did
you—”
“Not now,” Xilonen cut him off.
Malen forcefully drew his gaze away from the pair to scan the area around them. The
last thing they needed was for the other members of the pack to come around to the back of
the building while Turek convinced their mate to leave with them. Much to his surprise,
Xilonen agreed immediately.
“Are these yours?” Turek pointed to two small duffel bags on the ground at their
mate’s feet. When Xilonen nodded, Malen picked them up then gestured to their bikes. Turek
unstrapped the extra helmets while Malen secured the bags to each bike.
“This is so fucking cool. Can I ride on that one?” The kid bounced on the balls of his feet
as he indicated Malen’s bike.
“Stop cussing,” Xilonen admonished quietly.
Malen shared a glance with Turek who shook his head almost imperceptibly. They
could both smell the strong odour of alcohol on their mate’s breath. If he passed out and fell
off the bike while on the road, the driver would need to react quickly. Though it was plain to
see that Turek wanted Xilonen to ride with him, Turek was also admitting that he didn’t
have enough experience on a bike to keep Xilonen safe should their mate lose his grip.
“You’re riding with me, half-pint. It may not be as glamorous as the big man’s over
there but it rides like a dream.” The boy’s mumbled complaints were cut off as Turek
strapped the helmet onto his head and hoisted him onto the bike.
As Malen lifted the spare helmet to place on Xilonen’s head, a firm hand on his arm
stopped him.
“I know this isn’t the best time, but we need to talk. Mind if I ride with you?”
Malen bit back his caustic response as he shook off Collen’s hand. “I owe you one for
taking care of my mate, but we have nothing to discuss.”
“We have a lot to discuss and I’ll take my payment now. Hear me out. If you still want
me to go afterwards, you’ll never see me again. I swear it.”
Malen pretended to mull over his friend’s request as he readied his mate then straddled
his bike while Xilonen climbed on behind him. “Check,” he spoke through the mic in his
helmet. Turek nodded confirmation that his speaker was working. The kid wasn’t so subtle.
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“Hey, I can hear you! Can you hear me? Are you guys, like, bikers? Do you go on road
trips? Can I go with you?”
Turek’s warm laughter spilled through the speakers. “Hang on, little man. It’s a steep
ride from here.” The boy obeyed instantly.
A slight tug on the sides of his jacket told Malen that Xilonen was ready as well. To
Collen, he jerked his head to the road then took off without waiting to see if the man would
follow them. He knew he should’ve said more. What Collen had just done for them was
more than he could have asked for, let alone expected, but he needed time to adjust to this
turn of events. After months of searching, it seemed Xilonen had sought them out, and Malen
was almost certain the reason had nothing to do with his mate and everything to do with the
kid clinging to Turek’s waist.
Halfway to their cabin, Xilonen wrapped his arms securely around Malen’s midsection.
His mate’s smaller frame inched forwards until it was pressed firmly along his backside. The
sensation was both thrilling and alarming at the same time. From what he knew of the man,
Xilonen wasn’t one to display his fears openly, and the energy Malen was picking up from
him was anything but calm. The closer they came to their destination, the more his mate’s
hold increased.
“Xilonen, are you okay?” His only answer was a crushing squeeze that didn’t lessen in
intensity for the remainder of the trip. Panic set in as the rasps of harsh breathing reached his
ears through the helmet.
“Malen, is everything all right?”
Not wanting to upset Turek, he replied, “I think he might be feeling sick. Speed up a
bit. We’re almost there.” A few minutes later, they pulled into the front yard of their cabin.
Xilonen’s grip remained steadfast even as Malen killed the engine and pulled off his helmet.
Reaching around awkwardly, he unstrapped his mate’s helmet and hung it from one of the
handlebars but Xilonen still wouldn’t budge from his side. His eyes were clenched shut, lips
compressed in an ashen line as though he were in pain.
“We’re here. Can you make it inside?”
Watery blue eyes peered up at him with a vacant expression. They were glazed. Staring
off into a distance that was far beyond what was in front of them. “Bathroom.”
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As soon as the word was whispered, Turek was there, lifting their mate’s head to stare
down into his face. “What’s wrong with him? Is he responding?”
Malen was forced to prise Xilonen’s fingers apart to twist around and pick him up.
“He’s fine. Just needs to go to the bathroom. Take the kid inside and keep an eye on Collen.
We’ll be down when he’s done.”
Their mate clutched his head in both hands and tried to curl in on himself. This was not
exactly the reaction of a person too far gone in the bottle. Reluctantly, Turek stepped back
and Malen hurried into the cabin and up to the master bathroom next to his room. He lifted
the toilet lid then lowered his mate gently to the floor.
“Do you want some water?”
Xilonen shook his head then whimpered softly at the movement. “Get out.” The shove
he gave to Malen’s chest might as well have been a soft breeze. “Give me a minute. Please.”
Against his better judgement, Malen left the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
The only locks in the cabin were located on the exit doors and windows, a change he’d made
directly after Turek had first moved in. The removal of privacy had fuelled Turek’s anger at
the time and had caused numerous arguments between them, but Malen had refused to give
in. Overbearing it might seem, but there were certain rules he couldn’t live without. Having
constant access to his mate—mates now—was one of them.
In this situation, it worked out quite well for his peace of mind. Xilonen couldn’t be
trusted, no matter how much faith Turek wanted to have in him.
Malen rapped on the door after several minutes. When there was no reply, he opened it
and was met with a cloud of smoke. Xilonen was leaning over one leg, which was propped
up on the toilet seat, swiping at blood stains on his exposed knee with a cotton swab. On the
counter behind him lay an open bottle of peroxide and whisky. The flash of fury that swept
through Malen at the sight was too strong to hold back. Snatching the cigarette from
Xilonen’s lips, he threw it into the sink then upended the liquor bottle to pour down the
drain.
Xilonen instantly backed himself to the nearest wall, fear and anger contesting against
one another in his eyes. “That was mine. You have no right to barge in here and take my
things.”
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Malen might have laughed if not for the overwhelming urge to bend his mate over his
knee and spank a lesson into his perfect little ass. “I have every right to control what you do
here. This is my house and you will obey my rules.”
“I’m not staying here,” Xilonen hissed.
“You took away the option to leave the moment you came to my town. You are my
mate, and the only time I will allow you to leave is with my permission.”
The rage that emanated from Xilonen matched his own. “I am not your mate!”
In the next second, Malen was on him. He crushed the man against the wall and tilted
his head back to take possession of his mouth. The kiss was demanding and more than a little
out of Malen’s control. Turek had been just as stubborn as Xilonen in the beginning, but he’d
been strong-willed. Prideful. Xilonen, on the other hand, reminded him of a lost soul trying
to find its way back to reality. Who knew how long he’d been caught in limbo. Possibly for a
good portion of his life, considering how young he looked. It brought out Malen’s need to
dominate, to prove he was there to protect and support, more than anything ever had before.
A part of him realised that he was pushing Xilonen too far, too fast, but the pain of
another rejection was eating away at his patience. Turek’s initial denial of their bond had
been bad enough. Now he was reliving that experience all over again with no clue as to why
his second mate feared what had been fated to be. He was desperate to find a way to cut
through the bullshit and come through this with his heart intact.
A sudden wave of desire made him gasp. Pulling back, he looked down into his mate’s
face and saw blue eyes glazed over with lust. It went straight to his cock and made his heart
pound in his chest. Gently this time, he slanted his mouth over Xilonen’s. Malen slid his
tongue across Xilonen’s bottom lip before plunging in. Underneath the strong taste of alcohol
and smoke was a sweet, intoxicating flavour that made his head reel. He breathed in the soft
moan that escaped and swept in to discover every hidden hollow of his mate’s mouth. When
Xilonen’s hips bucked forwards, he felt the rigid length of his mate’s arousal rub against his
thigh.
It lit a fire in his blood that shot straight to his groin. Victory sang through his mind.
Xilonen bucked again and the press of something harder than flesh bit into Malen’s pelvis.
He hastily dug into his mate’s pocket to remove the offending object. As he pulled it out, a
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rattling noise caught his attention. Glancing at it distractedly, he saw it was a bottle of
prescription pills.
What the hell?
Ice chilled his blood and brought his raging arousal to a halt.
Schizophrenia.
The memory popped into his mind as though it had happened yesterday. Loken,
another halfling born with powers that exceeded those of the Gods and Keepers alike, had
tried to read Xilonen’s mind when they’d first met the young man. He’d been unable to.
Loken had claimed that it seemed as if there were other consciences inside Xilonen’s head,
creating a cacophony of inner voices that prevented him from focusing on Xilonen’s single
thread of thought.
The closest he’d come to describing it was schizophrenia.
Malen released his mate, fighting the driving compulsion to renew their kiss as Xilonen
blinked up in confusion. Lifting his hand, he rattled the bottle of pills. “What are these for?”
Xilonen shook his head as if to clear it. “What?”
The bold lettering on the white label read MS Contin. Under that was the name Dane T.
Jones. Malen’s anger returned sluggishly. Since first learning of the possibility that their mate
was suffering from schizophrenia, he and Turek had conducted days of research, wanting to
prepare themselves for all possibilities. In a way, it had kept their hopes alive that they
would eventually find their missing mate.
MS Contin, however, had not been on the list of prescribed drugs to treat that illness.
“Who is Dane Jones, Xilonen? How did you get this prescription?”
Alarm replaced the haze of lust in Xilonen’s eyes and a part of Malen wanted to discard
the bottle in an attempt to bring it back.
“Th-that’s my real name. They’re mine.”
Malen’s heart sank even as his resolve grew. “You’re lying. I can feel it in your energy.
Want to try another one?”
Xilonen’s gaze fixed on the bottle and he licked his lips nervously. “I have a condition.
That’s the only thing that helps.”
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That he could believe, but, as far as he knew, no drug as important as his mate was
making this one out to be should be taken with alcohol. Not willing to let Xilonen out of his
sight, he extracted his cell phone from his leather pants pocket and speed-dialled Turek.
“What’s going on? Do you need me up there?”
“Everything’s fine. Have you heard of a drug called MS Contin?”
Turek had done most of the research online for possible disorders Xilonen might be
suffering from. Malen was hoping his mate had encountered this particular name during that
time.
“MS Contin? I don’t think so. Is it—Wait. Hold on.” There was the sound of a deeper
voice in the background. Collen. When Turek came back on the line, there was an edge to his
tone. “Collen says he’s heard of it. It’s a type of morphine in the form of a pill. Malen, what’s
going on? Where did you get that name?”
Malen looked back to Xilonen who, judging from the guilty look on his face, had heard
everything. “Can you join us up here? Leave Collen downstairs with the kid.” Tucking his
phone back into his pocket, he lifted one brow. “I’m going to give you this one chance. Tell
me the truth or these are going down the toilet.”
Xilonen swallowed several times but no words came out. His gaze was held captive by
the bottle as though his life depended on the pills inside. Malen’s stomach cramped with
unease as his suspicion was silently confirmed. Dealing with Xilonen’s alcoholism was one
thing. An addiction to a hard-core drug was another. Knowing that this wasn’t going to be
easy, he waited until Turek’s footfalls sounded behind him. Xilonen’s breath came faster, his
eyes widening at Turek’s approach.
Malen tossed the bottle to Turek. Xilonen lunged for it, as he’d known his mate would,
but he was faster. Trapping Xilonen’s arms beneath his, he pulled his struggling mate from
the bathroom. “Flush them down the toilet,” he said as calmly as he could manage. As
necessary as this was, it was tearing him up inside to see Xilonen fight so adamantly over a
chemical addiction.
“No! Please!”
Turek looked at the bottle then at Malen, but didn’t question his order. When the pills
were dumped into the bowl and flushed down, Xilonen let out an inarticulate cry. More
footsteps pounded down the hallway towards them. Malen had no idea whether the kid,
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who he was pretty sure was Xilonen’s brother, knew of his mate’s addiction or not, but he
didn’t want the little one to witness this.
“Collen! Take the kid back downstairs.”
“What are you doing to my brother?” Fierce loyalty rang in the high-pitched voice.
From the corner of his eye, Malen could see Collen snag the kid up by his waist but it
was already too late. The boy should never have made it to the third floor in the first place.
Just as Malen was about to yell at Collen again, Xilonen’s body slackened against his. His
mate sagged and his energy faded to a dim echo of what it had been mere seconds ago.
“Look in his bags,” Malen said to Turek. “He may have more hidden.”
Turek nodded once then headed down the hall towards Collen and the boy.
“Let me go! What did you do to him?”
Collen readjusted his grip on the little squirmer. Malen had to hand it to the kid. He
might be small, but he was giving Collen a run for his money.
Turek crouched down in front of the boy. “He was taking something he shouldn’t have.
We threw it away.”
The kid stilled, an unreadable expression on his face. “You mean his drugs?”
Turek flashed Malen a pained look then turned back to the boy. “Yes.”
The kid seemed to mull over that information for a bit. “I can show you where the rest
are.”
Malen felt his heart sink a little more at those words. He watched as Turek followed the
kid back downstairs.
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Chapter Two
“Are you just going to stand there?”
Turek leant back against the counter, ready to take on any argument his young mate
threw at him. “Yes.”
“I’m not a child. I don’t need you watching over me.”
“Would you prefer Malen join us?” Turek quirked a brow at the jolt of arousal Xilonen
couldn’t quite mask. Interesting. He’d suspected something had happened between his two
mates before the shit had hit the fan just a few hours ago. The confirmation of it in Xilonen’s
blush went a long way in easing some of his worries. As much as Xilonen seemed
determined to deny their connection, his reaction to whatever Malen had done proved that
he was not completely unaffected by the mating pull. It gave Turek a measure of hope to
cling to.
It also gave him an idea as to how to coax Xilonen from his shell. At this point, he
wasn’t above using under-handed tactics to convince their mate to stay of his own accord. If
they had to start ‘bass-ackwards’ with sex and build a relationship from there, who was he to
argue? Just imagining the things he could do to get the job done had his cock trying to fight
its way out of his jeans.
“You can’t just take my privacy away,” Xilonen argued.
“You’re giving us no other choice. Trust works both ways. You came here looking for
help, and we want you to live long enough to give it to you.”
Xilonen blinked. “You think I’m suicidal?”
Turek held back a sigh of relief at his mate’s confusion. He’d thought exactly that after
finding the slew of depressants in Xilonen’s bag. All prescribed to a Mr Jones. Xilonen’s
reaction, however, didn’t lend credence to his suspicion.
“I don’t know what to think. Until you give us some answers, Malen and I are batting in
the dark here.”
Xilonen’s bright blue eyes assessed his. After a period of silence, Xilonen nodded his
head as if he’d come to a conclusion. Sitting on the rim of the bathtub, he tugged his boots
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and socks off. His shirt was next, revealing a myriad tattoos in the oddest places across his
arms and chest. As he stood and turned modestly to strip from his pants, Turek found
himself leaning forwards to peer at the tattooed mural that covered the expanse of his mate’s
back. It was the image of an eagle, wings outspread with the tips curving over Xilonen’s
shoulders.
It had been beautifully crafted in shades of gold, brown and black. A line of clouds was
formed just beneath its talons as if it were soaring high above the sky to freedom. An inch
below the claws of the eagle were two barbed wires twined around each other in a horizontal
line stretching from one side of Xilonen’s hips to the other. The design emphasised the
contours of his sleek lines and tapered waist, highlighting the movement of each muscle as
Xilonen reached to draw back the shower curtain.
“That’s a gorgeous tat.”
Xilonen glanced back over his shoulder, uncertainty in his eyes. When Turek held his
gaze, wanting him to see the compliment for what it was, a shy smile curved Xilonen’s lips.
“Thanks.”
Once his mate was behind the curtain, Turek took a fortifying breath and readjusted the
bulge in his pants. He could see why Malen had asked him to watch over their mate during
times when they couldn’t afford him the privacy he wanted. Xilonen was too much of a risk.
And far too great a temptation. Malen had a hard enough time reigning in his dominant
nature to give Turek the freedom he needed outside of the bedroom. Placing someone like
Xilonen in front of him would be like waving a red flag in front of a bull.
It was in the way Xilonen held himself—the rebelliousness in his posture and defiance
in his eyes, as though he were daring others to show him a different way of life. Being a
submissive, Turek should have felt content to leave the taming of Xilonen’s fiery attitude to
Malen, but he didn’t. Something about the younger man called to him in a way he couldn’t
ignore. When he looked at Xilonen, his thoughts raced with ideas that had nothing to do with
submitting and everything to do with exerting his will.
Turek shook his head. He was a bottom. Where Xilonen fit into the mix, he wasn’t quite
sure yet, but they had plenty of time to figure that out later.
“How’s he doing?”
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Turek jumped at the sound of Malen’s deep voice from the doorway. He slipped past
him into the hallway. “Better, I think. The kid?”
“Says his name’s Shayne. He seems to be holding up pretty well. Pissed off at his
brother but otherwise happy to be here.”
Malen’s frown prompted him to ask, “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. I get the feeling it’s mainly because here is better than wherever they
were. There’s also the fact that Shayne had no clue as to who we were. Xilonen hadn’t even
told him he’d met us before now, yet the kid seems to trust us more than our own mate is
willing to. It’s just a little odd that Shayne is so accepting of the idea of mates while
Xilonen…isn’t.”
Turek could feel his mate’s temper flaring and he laid a placating hand on his chest.
“Give Xilonen time. He’s here for a reason and, if he wants our help, he’ll eventually have to
tell us what’s going on.”
Malen grunted his displeasure. “I put Shayne in one of the spare rooms on the second
floor.”
“And Collen?”
“Will be staying with us for a while. At least until I can figure out why he’s all of a
sudden changed his mind and wants to help.”
“Do you trust him?” It was a delicate subject, but the question needed to be asked.
Collen and Malen had been best friends for over six hundred years. Until Xilonen, the two
had trusted each other implicitly in all matters. Even with Turek’s life, at one point in time.
But that bond had been all but severed several months ago by circumstances beyond either
man’s control.
“I trust him to keep our mate’s presence here a secret. Whether or not he helps remains
to be seen.” Malen reached out to tuck a lock of Turek’s hair behind one ear. “I know this is
what we wanted, but be careful.”
Turek nodded. Malen had every right to his caution. The first time they’d met Xilonen,
Malen and Turek had turned their heads for two minutes and found their mate gone. The
second, Xilonen had had them imprisoned by their enemy. Now, they’d found him wasted
on drugs and alcohol with a brother he obviously needed help taking care of.
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As the shower turned off, Malen handed him a T-shirt. “I’ve got the medication in the
bedroom.”
Turek nodded again and returned to the bathroom. Xilonen stood in nothing but a
towel slung low on his narrow hips. Long, dark hair was pushed back, exposing the clean
angles of his face. His jaw was smooth and hairless, as well as his chest. Most likely a trait
he’d inherited from his mother. Beads of water travelled down the hard planes of his abs and
into the towel.
Damn.
Turek had never been more jealous of a piece of cloth in his life. Except for maybe
Malen’s tight leather pants. It was a tossup.
“What’s wrong?” Xilonen crossed his arms over his chest in a self-conscious manner.
The action didn’t sit well with Turek. Tossing the shirt onto the counter, he grasped his
mate’s wrists and pulled them back down. “I enjoy looking at you. There’s nothing wrong
with that.”
Heat radiated from his mate’s skin and seeped into his. Xilonen leaned his head back to
stare nervously up at Turek, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips. Turek’s grip increased
significantly with the effort to refrain from taking Xilonen right then, making him his, but
Xilonen didn’t complain. Instead, his breath quickened and his eyes latched on to Turek’s
mouth.
The alien compulsion to dominate the smaller man was nearly too great to resist.
Taking a step back, he pointed to the discarded shirt. “Get dressed.” Was that his voice?
He doubted clearing his throat would take away the gruffness but he tried anyway. “We’ll be
waiting in the next room.”
Malen was seated at the head of the bed dressed only in a pair of loose sweatpants. “I
see you’re not safe around him either,” he said wryly. A dip of his eyes indicated the bulge
still straining against the front of Turek’s jeans.
Not knowing how to respond to that, Turek walked to the dresser and quickly changed
into a loose pair of shorts. How could he tell Malen he was having cravings to dominate
when he’d desired nothing more than to submit for his entire life? The idea of changing his
relationship with Malen was appalling, but the thought of submitting to Xilonen
was…well…not going to happen if his body had anything to say about it.
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“Are you all right?” Malen asked.
Xilonen chose that moment to appear in the doorway. Malen patted the covers to his
right. “Have a seat.”
The guarded look Turek was beginning to hate with a passion returned to Xilonen’s
face. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
Malen gave a casual shrug. “My house, my rules. I think the real choice you’re facing is
whether you want to sleep with your hands tied to the headboard or not.”
Xilonen’s eyes widened and flew to Turek, who did his best not to grin at the picture
Malen painted. It would almost be worth it to provoke the younger man just to see what he
would look like in restraints.
“I would never leave my brother.”
“No,” Malen said in a softer tone, “but you might take him with you. There’re a lot of
Keepers and Gods out there that would see you dead. I don’t think most of them would think
twice about cutting down your brother to get to you.”
Xilonen swallowed, body frozen in place. Lines of pain were etched into his pale
features and the anger slowly dissipated from the air around him. “I know. I couldn’t… I
can’t…” After a stuttering breath, he tried again. “If I tell you who we are, will you promise
to take care of him? I’ll take responsibility for my actions but he’s innocent. He doesn’t
deserve my fate.”
“Your fate is with us, and I don’t give a fuck who comes knocking on my door. No one
will harm you or your brother as long as I’m still breathing.”
Pride swelled in Turek’s chest and this time he couldn’t hold back his grin. Malen had
suffered more than any man should on his mates’ behalf—for both of his mates—yet he was
still willing to put everything on the line for them. The fierceness in his tone was
indisputable.
Turek crossed the room and guided Xilonen to sit on the edge of the bed, a few feet
from Malen. From the nightstand he took a tube of Bacitracin then knelt in front of the young
man.
“I can do that.”
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Swatting Xilonen’s hand away, he lifted the hem of his mate’s borrowed shirt to his
thighs. “I’ll bet you could. Tell us about you and your brother.” As he began applying the
ointment to the lacerations on Xilonen’s knees, he heard his mate take a deep breath.
“We’re seven-eighths God, one-eighth Keeper.”
Turek stilled in shock. Xilonen’s eyes were concealed behind his lowered lids but there
was no hint of deception in his energy.
“The Goddess of Night…” Xilonen let out a faint laugh that contained not an ounce of
humour. “She never set out to achieve where the God of Death failed, but I guess a spurned
heart can drive anyone mad. Or so I’ve heard.”
Xilonen’s next laugh bordered on hysterical and Turek shot a glance at Malen.
Convincing their mate to talk without knowing how much morphine he’d ingested probably
hadn’t been the smartest idea.
“For two millennia she’s been in love with the God of Day, using everything within her
power to seduce him.”
“Wait, you mean the God of Sky?” Malen interrupted.
“Sun, Day, Sky. Whatever he’s calling himself these days. The God changes his name
like he changes underwear. Well, if he wore underwear. I guess in his case it would be divine
testes protection against deranged Goddesses. Night’s wanted his balls wrapped around her
little finger since before any of the Gods can remember, but he’s blown her off every time.
Anyway, she caught him one night with a woman who turned out to be a halfling in hiding.
When she kidnapped the woman to kill her, Night discovered that the halfling was pregnant.
You can imagine how well she took that.” Xilonen snorted.
Turek’s stomach clenched at the flippant attitude his mate had adapted. As though his
story was nothing more than a Grimm’s fairy tale.
“Arranging for the God of Day to find his lover’s corpse wasn’t enough for her any
more. She wanted revenge.”
“She took the baby.”
Meeting Turek’s eyes, he echoed, “She took the baby. Night intentionally left it to be
raised by humans. She waited until his powers had nearly driven him insane then swept in
like a beautiful saviour. She seduced him and had his children until one of them was born
with the powers she needed to get even with Day.”
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“You.”
Drying, red strands fell across Xilonen’s face as he shook his head. “Shayne. He…”
Xilonen turned his head to pin Malen with a narrowed gaze. “He means everything to me.”
“He’s as safe here as you are,” Malen said. “I would never hurt him.”
“Oh I know. I’d kill you first.” Xilonen’s tone lacked any threat or malice one would
normally associate with those words. It was as if he were stating a simple fact that should
have been obvious.
A slow grin spread across Malen’s face. “Now that I can respect.”
“I only meant to say that I tried to take care of him without dragging you both further
into this. Since my birth was never registered with the human government, I could only find
work under the table. The jobs never lasted long, though.”
“You should have come to us in the first place.” When no answer was forthcoming,
Malen sighed and asked, “Are there others? I’m assuming she didn’t get lucky with Shayne
after having only you.”
Their young mate shook his head again. “No. She killed them.”
“Where does your father fit into all of this?”
“He doesn’t anymore,” Xilonen said in a deadpan tone.
Turek sat in stunned silence while Malen merely nodded. He’d heard stories, a lot of
stories, about some of the cold-hearted acts of the Gods in the past, but this was by far the
worst. It made him wonder how Xilonen could have survived under the care of such a cruel
mother. And why he had survived. If Shayne was the one she wanted, why had she let
Xilonen live when she’d murdered all of the children who had come before them? He was
about to ask this but Malen was quicker with his next question.
“What does Shayne have that she can use?”
Xilonen quirked one side of his mouth up and raised his brows in a thoughtful
expression. “You know, this would be a lot easier to discuss over a drink.”
“And if one of my mates weren’t an alcoholic we’d be having one,” Malen countered.
“I’ve heard it’s not healthy to live without a vice.”
“Oh, I’m sure you have a lot more vices than drinking and drugging.”
“Nope. None that I can think of.”
“Troublemaking comes to mind.”
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Xilonen tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, but that hasn’t shown much promise lately.
Of course, if you let me out of the house, I’m sure I could find something else—”
“Don’t hold your breath,” Malen growled.
Turek cleared his throat, earning glares from both men. “Shayne?” He looked down to
hide a grin as Xilonen huffed and mumbled something unintelligible. They definitely had
their work cut out for them with Xilonen, and Turek was looking forward to every minute of
it.
“He can absorb energy from the Gods.”
Again, they were shocked into silence. Turek recovered first, his voice barely above a
whisper. “That’s not possible.”
“Why not? The Gods created us then demanded we give them the energy we absorb so
that they wouldn’t have to keep travelling to Earth to get it themselves. Lazy bastards. They
thrive on energy the same as we do. It only makes sense that, with the right genetic makeup,
someone can take back what was given to them.”
“According to our history, Keepers engaged in a symbiotic relationship with the Gods
through mutual agreement,” Turek said. “We would provide them with the energy they
needed to sustain themselves while they provided guidance throughout our lives.”
“Yeah, well, that’s the pretty little tale they spun after the first uprising. When they
discovered that halflings had the potential to be born with powers that exceeded theirs, the
Gods wanted to wipe out the entire race of Keepers and start fresh. The Keepers and
halflings revolted. They threatened to expose themselves to the humans. It would have
meant their deaths, but it also would have alerted the humans to any future races the Gods
created.
“Fear being the humans’ number one reason for destruction, the Gods were forced to
give in and allow the halflings to live. They passed a mandate after that banning all Gods
from procreating with Keepers. Eventually, the halflings already born died off and several of
the Gods used their powers to rewrite history. Wipe the memory of the rebellion from the
mind of every Keeper. Since they could no longer control their creation through force, they
decided to form a mutually beneficial relationship with them. The Gods planted the seed that
halflings were dangerous, saying the powers they inherited made them evil, and decreed that
they should be killed on sight.”
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Xilonen yawned, eyes drooping. Apparently, what was a disturbing revelation to Turek
and Malen was no more than a tired bedtime story to him.
“When Seth used his mate, Jamie, as living proof that not all halflings were born evil,
the Gods had a choice of either reliving the past and facing another revolt, or choosing a
different option without having to admit to their lies. That’s when they decided that each
halfling should be judged on a case by case basis. I was rather impressed, actually. Who
knew the Gods could evolve and develop common sense?”
Turek’s mind reeled at the implications of what Xilonen was claiming. He screwed the
cap back on the tube of medication and placed it on the dresser to give himself time to absorb
the new information, but it wasn’t nearly long enough. Even more chilling than the story was
his mate’s frank attitude about it. As though he didn’t give a damn whether they believed
him or not, which made it all the more difficult not to believe him.
“Xilonen, how do you know all of this?” Turek asked.
A shadow darkened Xilonen’s eyes before he looked away. “It doesn’t matter. Night
was going to wait until Shayne matured into his powers before she convinced him to use
them against Day. She wanted to have the God at her mercy. Force him to love her by
making him dependent on her for energy. Conniving bitch. But the God of Death’s idea to
rule over all the Gods was too tempting to pass up. She wouldn’t need to rally an army of
Keepers to worship her. With Shayne’s ability to transfer energy directly from the other Gods
to her, she would only need him.”
“If that’s the case, why did she bother to help Mikel if she could have achieved all of
this through your brother?”
Xilonen shrugged. “Convenience. It would’ve been a lot easier for Shayne to absorb
energy from one God rather than the entire pantheon. Besides, he’s still too young and
untrained. Using that much of his power could cripple him.” When Xilonen yawned again,
Turek clamped down on the questions still burning to be asked. There would be plenty of
time for them later. Malen must have agreed because he was pulling down the covers and
padding over to the door.
“We’ll finish this conversation in the morning. For now, let’s get some sleep.” Malen
flipped the light switch, dousing them in darkness.
Turek pushed gently on Xilonen’s shoulders to urge him towards the middle of the bed.
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“Wait,” Xilonen protested. “There’s one more thing. Shayne doesn’t know about any of
this. You have to promise me you won’t tell him.”
A growl came from the vicinity of the door. “Which part? The fact that his mother is the
Goddess of Night or that she wants to use him?”
Xilonen eventually leant back as Turek continued to push him down. “Use him. He
thinks she loves him. It’ll be easier for her to control him if he uses his powers for her
willingly. I know it’s wrong but he loves her so much. I can’t—” His sentence was cut off as
the bed dipped under Malen’s weight on the other side of him. Xilonen scooted away
quickly. “I don’t want to—” He paused again as he came up against Turek’s side. Inching
back only brought him to another halt as Malen’s large frame caged him in.
“You can’t honestly expect me to sleep in the middle. I’ll suffocate.” Xilonen’s voice
sounded more alarmed than irritated, but there was nothing to be done about it. Suffering
their mate’s annoyance was far better than waking up to find him gone.
Again.
The deep bass of Malen’s voice vibrated the mattress. “Relax. This is only to keep you
safe. Even from yourself.”
“Whatever. Just don’t roll over in your sleep. I’d be flattened in seconds.”
A sharp burst of laughter came out before Turek could stop it. His mate did have a
point. While Xilonen wasn’t exactly frail, Malen tended to make almost everyone seem small
in comparison to his considerable bulk.
“I’ll try to remember that,” Malen said dryly. “We’ll leave it to you to tell Shayne about
your mom, but you need to do it soon. No one can fully trust you if you keep secrets from
them.” The double meaning was implied, as Turek was sure Xilonen understood when he
took his time to reply.
“Thank you,” Xilonen whispered.
“You’re welcome. Now go to sleep.”
Xilonen shifted on to his back, encased securely on either side. Turek resisted the
impulse to pull his mate close as he listened to the rhythmic sounds of Xilonen’s breathing.
But, instead of slowing, they gradually increased. Several minutes passed until the younger
man’s racing heartbeat could be felt through the skin of his arm touching Turek.
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Instinctively, Turek placed the palm of one hand over the centre of his mate’s chest.
Xilonen’s breath hitched and he flinched slightly but made no other move. Moments later,
the covers shifted and Turek felt the brush of Malen’s hand below his. Malen’s thumb
feathered back and forth across Xilonen’s belly in a soothing motion.
For the first time, Turek allowed the events of the day to seep in. The realisation that he
was finally touching his elusive mate, feeling Xilonen’s heart beat strongly beneath his palm,
was enough to steal the very air from his lungs. He supposed the intensity of his emotions
towards Xilonen was, in part, owing to the similarities he found between himself and the
younger man. Turek had once been just as secretive and guarded, though for vastly different
reasons.
Jace had told them he suspected Xilonen hadn’t helped Mikel simply to please Night.
After hearing Xilonen’s opinion of his mother, Turek was inclined to agree. With the factor of
Shayne thrown into the mix, his mate’s personal reason for aiding the son of Death was
quickly becoming clear. Turek didn’t doubt that Xilonen would do anything to keep his
brother safe. Even risk his own life by participating in a plot against the Gods if it meant
protecting Shayne from their vengeful mother.
A small smile curved his lips as Xilonen’s breathing finally evened out. His mate sighed
softly and slipped into a peaceful rest. Malen had been right so many months ago. Turek did
want to save Xilonen, just as Malen had saved him from his past. Now he just needed to
figure out a way to get around Xilonen’s stubbornness long enough to do that.
* * * *
The sound of laughter drifted from the kitchen and Malen stopped in the doorway to
observe the second, latest addition to his household. Shayne was standing at the counter
beside Collen, sneaking bits of cheese from a plate while Collen pretended not to notice.
Every so often, Collen would add the cheese he was shredding to a pan on the stove,
whacking Shayne’s hand with a spatula when the kid dared to steal more right in front of
him.
It didn’t take long to catch on to the gist of their conversation. Collen was in the middle
of telling a story about one of the times he and Malen had taken a road trip across the
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country. From the amount of questions the kid kept interrupting him with, it didn’t appear
that he would get to the end any time soon.
It was odd seeing his old friend so at ease with Xilonen’s brother. While Collen hadn’t
come right out and vowed to kill Xilonen as most of the other members of Malen’s former
biker gang had, neither had he stood by Malen and offered to help. Malen made a mental
note to pull Collen aside as soon as they were done with breakfast to ask him what the hell
he was up to. As much as he still believed Collen was a good man, he was more than willing
to take him out if he posed a threat to his family.
The conversation died as he walked in to grab a cup from one of the cabinets.
“Mornin’,” Collen said a little too cheerily. Malen had forgotten how disgustingly perky
the man could be in the morning. “We’re just finishing up the eggs. Pancakes and bacon are
in the oven. Where’s the rest of the crew?”
Malen poured coffee into his cup then sat down at the small kitchen table. He’d have to
buy a bigger one soon. “On their way down. How long have you two been awake?”
“Short stuff here woke me up at around five. Thought I’d keep him busy until you guys
came down.”
“I’m not short,” Shayne grumbled. “I’m almost as tall as Z.”
Collen smirked and tugged on a lock of the kid’s bangs playfully. “Yeah, that ain’t
saying much. Don’t worry, though. You’ll probably grow to be a few inches taller than your
brother.”
“As tall as you?”
Malen took a sip of coffee to hide his smile. Somehow, he had a feeling that Shayne
wouldn’t quite make it to Collen’s six foot three inches, but far be it from him to burst the
boy’s bubble.
“Keep eating like you do and you just might make it.” Turning to Malen, Collen
pointed the spatula at Shayne. “This little man can pack it away. He’s already had a bowl of
cereal and three pancakes and he’s still hungry. Which reminds me, you’re running low on a
few things. I’ll take the Explorer into town and pick up some groceries after breakfast.”
Malen baulked at the nonchalant way Collen stated that he would borrow his car to do
the grocery shopping for them. “Thanks, but I think Turek already planned on doing that.”
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Without skipping a beat, Collen said, “I’ll pick up some milk, too. If you want anything
specific, write it down.”
Malen’s scowl was completely ignored as the man busied himself with handing plates
and silverware to Shayne to put on the table.
“Can I come too?” Shayne asked.
Malen opened his mouth to reply but Collen beat him to it. “Maybe next time. I think
your brother might want you to stay close for the time being.”
Shayne frowned but didn’t protest. As he was setting the table, he glanced over at
Malen through dark lashes. Malen could feel another question coming but waited patiently
for the kid to voice it.
“Did you hurt him?” Shayne looked directly at him with a fierce expression.
Okay, not what he’d been expecting. “Did I hurt who?” He casually took another sip
from his mug.
“Z. I heard it can hurt when you lose your virginity and you’re, like, three times his
size.”
Coffee scalded the inside of his nose and throat as he tried to choke it down. From the
stove, he could hear Collen also having a coughing fit. After clearing his throat twice, he
glared over at Collen who was wiping his eyes, not even bothering to hide the grin that split
his face.
“Your brother’s a virgin?” He tried to keep the surprise from his voice but failed
miserably. Granted, Xilonen was young, but Malen hadn’t taken into consideration that he
might still be untried. Knowing his mate hadn’t been touched sexually by another man had
him hard in an instant.
“Yeah. He’s been saving himself for you. Well, I guess you and Turek. I thought we
could only have one mate. Will I have two mates when I’m older?”
Collen growled from the stove, his back turned to them.
“I don’t know, but I would never hurt your brother, and we haven’t had sex. We want
to get to know him better before we do anything like that.” And what was a little kid doing
with sex on the brain? It was good to know Xilonen had an open relationship with his
brother, but damn. The last thing he wanted to do was discuss his sex life with a child.
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Shayne cocked his head to the side in contemplation. “Okay, but don’t wait too long.
He’s wanted a mate since before I can remember.”
A needle of pain pierced his heart at those words. Xilonen had denied the mating bond
between him and Turek when they’d first met and then again last night. Why would he do
that if he’d been looking forward to finding his mate for most of his life? Malen knew
Xilonen probably had his reasons, just as Turek’d had when Malen had met him, but it was
still a hard thing to take. Rejection seemed to be inevitable in his life.
“Is that why he went on his trip, to find you and Turek? Why didn’t he tell me he met
you guys?”
Malen shared a frown with Collen as the other man brought the plates of food to the
table. “What trip?”
“The one he took about five months ago,” Shayne said around a mouthful of bacon.
“Mom watched me while he was gone. When he came back, he wouldn’t say where he’d
been. Just packed our stuff and made me take off with him. Are we going to stay here now?”
So Xilonen hadn’t spoken of his involvement in Mikel’s plans with his brother. Malen
wasn’t sure he felt relieved about that or not. Eventually, the kid would find out. Shayne
didn’t seem the type to be content with being restricted to the house and taking him into
town wasn’t an option. It looked like Xilonen would be explaining more to his brother than
just their mother’s twisted agenda.
He was certain now that his mate had only sided with Mikel at Night’s orders. If the
Goddess was willing to breed just to produce a child who could help her exact revenge for
her spurned heart, Malen had no doubt she’d have hurt Shayne if Xilonen had disobeyed her.
It angered him that Shayne was soon going to have his innocence stripped from him by
learning of his family’s betrayal, but it couldn’t be helped. They couldn’t risk the kid
summoning his mother in his ignorance.
“Yes, you’ll be staying here with us. Is that okay with you?”
Shayne shot a shy glance at Collen, who smiled encouragingly. “Sure. When will I get
to see my mom?”
“She’s still busy,” Xilonen said from the door to the kitchen. “We’ll let her know where
we are as soon as she tells me she’s got time.”
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Malen looked up to see his mates walking over to the table. Turek kissed him and slid
into the seat next to his while Xilonen took the one beside his brother. With all the chairs
taken, Collen stood at the counter to eat his food.
Malen had never been very attracted to the goth look but his mate pulled it off well.
With his pale skin and refined features, it made him appear ethereal in a dark sort of way.
“You keep in contact with your mother?” Malen asked.
“Of course,” Shayne piped up. “He can hear—”
“Shayne, can you get me a cup of coffee?” Xilonen cut in. “And eat something. You’re
too skinny.”
Shayne snorted. “Like you can talk.”
Malen didn’t miss the intentional diversion of the conversation. And the list of
information he’d have to prise out of Xilonen just kept on getting longer.
“Maybe not, but at least he’s got an ass,” Turek said.
Predictably, the kid paused in pouring coffee to peer over his shoulder at his rear end.
Looking thoroughly offended, he cast a glare at Turek. “I have an ass.”
Turek leant forwards and squinted at Shayne’s backside. “Oh, whatdoyaknow, there it
is. Sorry. It’s just so tiny I couldn’t see it at first.”
Shayne gaped then narrowed his eyes. “Get glasses.”
Turek merely chuckled, which didn’t help matters any. The rest of the meal was spent
steering Shayne’s endless questions to safer topics. The kid was a fountain of energy that
wore Malen out just by listening to him. Fortunately, Turek had no problems keeping up.
Shayne wasn’t as quick with the sarcastic quips as Turek and Collen, but Malen had faith
he’d catch up in no time.
Malen kept half of his attention on Xilonen, who had yet to touch the food in front of
him. Every time his mate reached for his mug, Malen could see a slight tremble in his hand.
From what he knew about detox, the next few days were going to be tough on Xilonen, but it
was best to get it over with sooner rather than later. Shayne needed a sober brother and
Malen and Turek needed a mate minus the bad attitude.
As everyone started clearing their plates, Xilonen stood and turned to face Turek.
“Mind if I go out for a smoke?”
“Not at all. Malen?”
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“Go on. I’ll wait until you two get back.”
Turek got up to walk with Xilonen out of the room.
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Chapter Three
Malen, Collen and Shayne cleaned the kitchen while Turek and Xilonen were gone and,
twenty minutes later, Malen left his mates in the living room with Shayne and beckoned
Collen to his study on the second floor. A cluster of paperwork covered his desk, reminding
him of the duties he’d been neglecting since starting his search for Xilonen. Now that he had
the young man safely under his protection, he knew he should get back to work, but he
wasn’t quite ready yet.
Even now his mind wandered to the vision he’d woken up to that morning. Xilonen
and Turek wrapped around each other so tightly that it was hard to tell where one left off
and the other began. Turek’s chin titled upwards because Xilonen had buried his face into
the curve of his neck. Tendrils of red, black and light brown hair laced together to curl
around faces and necks, but it was what Malen had seen afterwards that distracted his
attention now.
Unable to resist, Malen had placed a light kiss on Xilonen’s cheek, lingering to breathe
in his fresh, clean scent. Soft skin had slid along his lips as Xilonen had turned to face him.
When he’d drawn back, he’d been greeted with two half-lidded eyes and a lazy smile before
Xilonen had snuggled deeper into Turek’s embrace, never once waking up.
That. Right there. That simple, unconscious smile had dispelled all of his doubts as if
they’d never existed. Filled him with hope that not even Turek’s words and faith had
managed to give him. Somewhere inside of Xilonen was their true mate, and he couldn’t wait
to catch another glimpse of him.
Malen bypassed his cluttered desk and turned an armchair to face the one Collen had
already taken. As he sat down, he took in his old friend’s amused expression. “What are you
smiling about?”
“I’d ask you the same thing but I think I already know.”
Malen glowered darkly but Collen’s smile only grew. “You know why we’re here. Care
to explain the sudden change of heart?”
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Collen’s face grew sombre, his gaze intense as he leant forwards and placed his elbows
on his knees. “I was wrong to turn my back on you when you needed me the most. I knew it
almost immediately but I let grief get in the way of my better judgement.”
Malen acknowledged his statement with a nod but held back his opinions. Collen, like
most of the members of his biker family, had good reason to mistrust Xilonen. When the
Gods had asked for volunteers to guard the Vishian and Mikel’s followers who’d been
imprisoned within it, it had been them that had answered the call. They—the wanderers of
their race…the free spirits who had readily taken the responsibility upon themselves rather
than leave it to those Keepers with more to lose, those with children and foundations they
couldn’t afford to uproot.
Collen and Malen had been among the first to offer their services but Collen’s uncle had
talked them out of it. The crazy old man had got it into his head that they would find their
mates before the rebellion was over. He’d used the reasoning that if, by some astronomical
coincidence, he turned out to be right, they would have to choose between their mates and
their duties if they’d become guards. And damned if the old bugger hadn’t rubbed it in
Malen’s face when Turek had come along.
Malen wondered what his late friend would think if he’d known Malen’s second mate
would bring about his death. Shame ate away at his rigid control and he found himself
averting his eyes from Collen’s.
“Stop it. I know what you’re thinking because I’ve thought the same thing every minute
of every day until I pulled my head out of my ass. My uncle loved us both like sons. He
would never have blamed you for something your mate did. There was no way you could
have known what Xilonen’s motives were.” Collen sat back and scrubbed a hand over his
face.
“Maybe your mate was misguided. Maybe he was corrupted. I don’t know, but you’re
as good a man as they come. If you saw something in him worth saving, then I should have
trusted you. From what I understand, Xilonen did as many things right as he did wrong.
Perhaps…he had good reasons for his actions.”
There was a note of hopeful yearning in Collen’s words that broke the last of Malen’s
resistance. The man wanted answers just as badly as he did, and Malen couldn’t blame him.
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But instead of taking a violent approach, Collen was trying to get them peacefully. It was that
that Malen trusted more than anything else.
With a long sigh, Malen stood and began pacing the length of his study. “You’re wrong
about one thing. It was Turek’s faith that held true. Not mine. I’m ashamed to say it, but I
think I might have given up if not for Turek’s insistence that Xilonen had his reasons.” At
Collen’s questioning stare, Malen went on to relate the details of Xilonen’s story. His belief
that Xilonen had played both fields in order to keep Shayne safe from their vindictive
mother. Night’s plans to use Shayne’s power to exact revenge and finish what the God of
Death had started.
“Well, that would explain his shifting allegiance,” Collen said after a long period of
silence. “He couldn’t risk his mother hurting Shayne if she’d found out that he was helping
us. It also explains why he left right after the battle. Shayne said himself that Xilonen went to
collect him immediately afterwards then went on the run with him.” Furrowing his brow in
thought, his eyes roamed over the scenery on the other side of the window across the room.
“My uncle was a good man. He died for something he believed in. Protecting the
innocents of our race.” Focusing once more on Malen, he said, “Shayne is an innocent. If the
old man were here now, I’d bet anything he’d lay his life on the line all over again just to
keep that kid safe…regardless of Shayne’s parentage. Same with all the others who were at
the Vishian that day.”
“You seem awfully accepting of this. Even I still think we could have avoided the
deaths at the Vishian and protected his brother if he’d just told us everything instead of
keeping secrets. And there’s still the issue of him exposing us to our enemy when we were
infiltrating Mikel’s camp. That couldn’t have been about Shayne’s safety.”
Collen frowned and relaxed further into the armchair while assessing him with a
shrewd eye. Malen continued to pace, gearing himself up for his friend’s concurrence, but it
never came. As the silence lengthened, his irritation grew. He wanted so much to see things
as simply as Turek—and now, apparently, Collen—did, but his mind wouldn’t let him. There
were too many unknown variables.
“What? You can’t tell me I’m the only one who sees the gaps in his story.”
After another stretch of silence that seemed to last an eternity, Collen finally opened up
for a response, though it was far from the one Malen had expected. “Shayne’s not the only
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one she could’ve gone after, you know. If she’d killed Xilonen then come after his brother,
who do you think the boy would have gone with? Her or us? She could have easily told him
that we were to blame for Xilonen’s death and he would have believed her. Like you said, he
loves his mother. As for Xilonen exposing you and your party, I honestly can’t say. But,
seeing as how he’s provided a damned good reason for keeping us from the Vishian, what
makes you think he doesn’t have an equally good reason for that, too?”
In a quieter voice, Collen asked, “What are you not telling me, Malen? It seems to me
that this new information is exactly what you and Turek have been searching for. With a
little time and planning, we can use it to exonerate your mate. Has something changed?”
Malen shot the man a smirk. “Are you saying you’re willing to stay and help us?”
“I’m saying I should have stayed and helped you from the start. If it’s all right with you
and Turek, I’d like to make up for that mistake.”
Malen sighed heavily and fell back down into his chair.
“He rejected us. Turek and me. Since the very beginning, he’s refused to have anything
to do with us until now. He still thinks we have no claim on him.”
A soft ‘ahh’ left Collen’s lips as realisation set in. “My friend, you’re being too hard on
yourself. Turek rejected you as well but he eventually learned to trust you. I think we both
know what would have happened had you given up on him.”
“I’m not giving up on Xilonen. It’s just…he’s so damned independent and it’s going to
get him killed. If it weren’t for the fact that he couldn’t take care of his brother, he wouldn’t
even be here right now. We almost lost him once already. It makes me want to—”
“Tie him to your bed? Put a shock collar on him? Attach a leash and never let him out of
your sight?”
Malen smiled grudgingly. “Among a few other things, but Turek talked me out of
them.”
In a low voice, Collen said, “He’s not like your family. Your real family. The fact that
he’s here asking for your help proves that.”
The words took Malen back to a time he didn’t want to revisit. Memories of a life that
had been ripped away from him. Back when he had first come into his manhood, when their
kind had lived in small, tight-knit communities, he’d volunteered to become a protector of
his village. Rumours had been spreading of a human war, an army that was working its way
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south towards his village. He had tried to convince his family and chief counsel to move
from their lands, but they had brushed him off.
They’d thought that, if the humans bothered them, they could simply absorb a portion
of the army’s energy as they’d always done in the past. Not a lot, but enough to make the
soldiers lethargic and the leaders lose interest and move on. The people of his village had
refused to leave. By the time the humans had reached them, the army had been too great for
them to control through energy. His village had been slaughtered, down to the last man,
woman and child.
A group of what had later become his convoy had found him among the wreckage,
dying from his wounds suffered in his attempts to protect his family. Collen had been one of
them. They’d nursed him back to health, accepted him into their family, and stood by him
ever since.
Until Xilonen.
Is that why he was hesitant to begin a relationship with his young mate, as Collen was
suggesting? Because he was afraid that Xilonen’s reluctance to trust him would lead to his
mate’s death, just as his family’s distrust had led to their destruction?
“Look, he may have his secrets,” Collen went on, “but he’s here now. Give him time.
You can’t let your fears stop you from trying to make him see how important he is to you.”
Twisting his lips in a wry grin, Malen asked, “Now why does that speech sound
familiar?”
Collen shrugged. “You’re the lucky bastard who was gifted with two sexy mates. I
figure it’s only fair that you get a lecture with both.” At Malen’s scowl, Collen lifted his
hands in a gesture of peace. “Hey, a man has a right to his jealousy. Seriously, though,
you’ve got another long road ahead of you, but you’re not alone. I’m here for as long as you
need me.”
Malen dipped his head in gratitude, praying to the Gods that the end of this road
would see Xilonen alive and, hopefully, a little less stubborn.
* * * *
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Xilonen tracked Turek’s easy gait from the kitchen to Shayne’s side on the living room
floor from beneath the cover of his lashes. The man really was handsome. Shoulder-length,
coppery hair and eyes the colour of liquid amber glinted in the soft glow of the lamps spread
throughout the living room. His toned physique was a thing of beauty—the perfect
complement to Malen’s larger, muscular frame. They went well together.
The dull ache that had settled deep within his chest cavity flared to life.
It’s the shock to my system, he told himself. Withdrawal. That’s all it is.
And maybe, after the one thousandth recitation of that lie, he might actually believe it.
Yup. Any second now.
Xilonen rolled his eyes. He’d blown any chance of earning the love of his mates a long
time ago.
Movement from the other end of the couch provoked his hypertension and caused him
to jump. A new layer of sweat formed in the creases of his skin and beaded on his brow and
upper lip. Xilonen drew his arms in tighter to his sides, squeezing his hands trapped
underneath, but that only succeeded in spreading the trembling that shook them. From his
chest it expanded to his knees and jaw until he was forced to clench his teeth together to keep
them from chattering.
All the while he could feel Malen’s critical gaze boring into him. Xilonen’s mind
wouldn’t stop replaying the scene in the bathroom where he’d received his first kiss.
It had been a show of dominance delivered to prove a point, and yet like nothing he’d
ever experienced before. The fear that should have risen up and triggered his self-
preservation had fizzled out the moment Malen’s hard body had come into contact with his.
Malen’s energy had been a whirlwind of lust and fierce authority, sweeping away his
resistance and igniting a spark of passion he hadn’t known existed within him.
His scalp tingled in remembrance of Malen’s hands threading through his hair and
pulling his head back, giving him no choice but to accept the demands made on his body.
When the man’s tongue had plunged in to devour him from the inside out, Xilonen had
almost come in his pants with the amount of passion Malen had poured into the kiss. There
had been no room for old memories to creep in and steal away the heat of the moment. Only
raw, unfettered—
“Bring him back to me, you spineless coward!”
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A scream was wrenched from his throat before he could stifle it. Xilonen lurched
forwards involuntarily, falling ungracefully to the floor.
“You think you can take my son from me and not pay the consequences? Pathetic little fool.”
Hands plucked him from the ground but he twisted out of their grasp. He had to get
out. Get away. This was going to get ugly and the last thing he wanted was for Shayne to
witness another one of his episodes. Without the buffer of drugs, the voices had been gaining
in volume throughout the day. He’d managed to retain some semblance of control thus far
but, if his mother kept up this latest attack, it was sure to tip him over the edge.
Shouts rang out all around him, blending in with the incessant shrieks of the Goddess
of Night. The downstairs bathroom was too close. He couldn’t risk Shayne following him. In
a mad dash, he sprinted towards the stairwell but lost his equilibrium at the top of the first
flight. An outstretched hand barely saved his head from crashing into the banister as he
stumbled to his knees.
“I’m going to strip the flesh from your bones and make you beg for mercy before I’m through
with you. Shayne will watch me tear you limb from limb and laugh while you scream for forgiveness.
I’ll make sure he knows you for the traitor you are.”
Strong arms lifted him, jostling his empty stomach and causing a surge of acid to burn
the back of his throat. Amidst jerky swaying, he tried to cling to the wall of muscle pressed to
his side but couldn’t tear his hands away from his skull. It felt as if it would split in two
under the brutal assault on his mind. Suddenly, the arms let him go to be replaced by firm
hands cradling his head.
“Xilonen, look at me! I am not your mother.”
Xilonen forced his lids open and blinked through his blurred vision until Turek’s face
came into focus.
“You’re with us now, not her. Do you hear me?”
Confusion filled the momentary lapse of his mother’s curses. How could Turek know it
was Night’s voice that was plaguing him? Could he hear her, too? No. That was impossible.
The only way Turek could know who he was fighting inside his own head was if he…
Shit!
Had he replied to his mother’s rants aloud?
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For a split second, Xilonen wanted to beg the man above him for drugs—any drugs—to
escape from the agony of his power. As Night’s curses and threats returned in full force,
Xilonen cried out, his desperation peaking. Without thought, he reached up and curled his
arms around Turek’s neck, trying to absorb some of the man’s solid strength.
What came next not only met his needs, but exceeded them. Turek’s mouth came down
on his softly at first, yet the simple touch was electrifying. Featherlight lips quested over his
then parted as a tongue danced along the seam of his mouth. The gentleness of it was as alien
to him as the tender concern that shone from the amber eyes staring down into his. When a
particularly harsh epithet from the Goddess reverberated through his skull, he cringed and a
whimper slipped out.
Turek’s eyes hardened in an instant. “You’re mine, not hers. Do you understand? You
will pay attention only to me.”
A violent shiver coursed through him at the man’s deep, commanding tone. Xilonen’s
next breath was stolen as Turek came down on him again, only this time the kiss was no
timid icebreaker. There was no building of momentum. Turek dived in, demanding entry,
and it was all Xilonen could do to open up and hold on tighter as a wave of arousal flushed
through him. Whether it originated from him or Turek, Xilonen wasn’t sure, but he quickly
discovered that he didn’t care.
Turek’s hands were everywhere, kneading his tense shoulders and sliding down his
torso to clasp his waist in an almost bruising grip. The thrilling sensations that raced through
him took on a power of their own. They burned and consumed until his mind could no
longer register the dull roar of the cauldron of thoughts. All that remained were the
pleasures Turek incited in him battling against the torment of his mother’s voice.
He wanted so much for Turek to win. To banish the cruelty of the Goddess’ words. In
an attempt to increase the passion, Xilonen twined his fingers in the soft waves of the larger
man’s hair and flicked his tongue out to duel with Turek’s masterful strokes. All too soon,
however, his inexperience became painfully noticeable. Where Turek swept into his mouth
with grace and skill, he bobbed and forked like the inept amateur he was. With the flagging
of his confidence came the renewed volume of his mother’s invectives.
“Don’t you dare,” Turek growled against his lips. “Stay with me. Right here. Listen to
my voice.”
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Turek yanked roughly on his wrists, stretching them high above his head and crushing
them into the surface of what Xilonen dimly realised must be the mattress of a bed.
“You’re ours now. Doesn’t matter what brought you here. We’re never going to let you
go.”
Tears stung Xilonen’s eyes at the vehemence in the man’s words. There was possession
in Turek’s voice. Pure and vicious. And it filled Xilonen with a sense of belonging that had
only previously existed in his dreams. Doubts infiltrated his thoughts but were chased away
as Turek continued his display of dominance.
“Keep your hands there. Don’t move unless I give you permission.”
Xilonen sucked in a breath as a fresh wave of desire bowled through him. His dick
swelled and pulsed with a surge of blood, filling the crotch of his baggy pants until he
thought he might burst through the seams. This was not the passive lover Xilonen had
always imagined Turek would be in the bedroom. This was a man who wasn’t afraid to take
charge, and Xilonen felt himself melt into the safety net of Turek’s capable hands and strong
voice.
“Very good. That’s it.”
The flawless angles of Turek’s face disappeared for a brief second as Xilonen’s shirt was
stripped from his chest. When Turek came back into view, the naked lust that shone from his
eyes was almost enough to make Xilonen forget the command given to him. At the last
moment, he balled the sheets into his fists to keep from seeking out the sleek contours of
Turek’s body, still hidden beneath a light grey T-shirt.
Turek kept up a steady stream of commands and praises as his hands skimmed lightly
over Xilonen’s abs and came to rest at the waistband of his jeans. Xilonen began to pant in
anticipation of what was about to happen…what he hoped more than anything would
happen. Heart pounding in his chest, he waited for the barrage of faces that haunted his
memories to cloud his sight and spoil the beauty of Turek’s touch, but it never came—almost
as though the man hovering mere inches above him wouldn’t allow his memories to bleed in.
Xilonen raised his hips as his pants were pulled off and thrown to the floor. Dipping his
head, Turek sucked a nipple into the scorching heat of his mouth at the same time that one of
his hands found Xilonen’s aching erection and squeezed it in a vice-like grip. The flare of
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pain somehow added to the pleasure and Xilonen’s back arched as he shouted at the
incredible feel.
“Are you still with me?”
The words didn’t make sense at first. All that existed was the compelling force of
Turek’s authority and the slow, sure strokes of his hand. The stinging reprimand of Turek’s
teeth on his pebbled nipple brought his attention back to focus.
“Yes,” he whispered. When a thumb pressed into the slit on the head of his cock, he
squirmed but Turek didn’t relent. Racking his brain for the answer Turek was obviously
after, it suddenly dawned on him that he had the ability to do so. Night’s voice was still there
in the back of his mind, but it was a distant echo of its earlier intensity. The other voices had
dimmed to a barely perceptible hum. Not in all the years since the development of his power
had he had such a reprieve from it.
“Yes,” he said again—this time with a level of awe that looked like it shocked Turek as
much as it did him. With no other way to show his gratitude, Xilonen smiled, a single tear
breaching his lashes as Turek graced him with a smile so sexy he was sure this had to be a
dream.
Turek’s thumb circled the engorged head of his cock, spreading the pre-cum that was
generously leaking out, and started pumping him again in long, tight pulls. “Fuck, you’re
gorgeous when you submit.”
“That he is.”
Xilonen’s eyes flew to the direction of the new voice just as Malen’s huge frame came
into his line of sight. His gaze latched on to Malen’s deep grey eyes and was held captive.
The intimidation he’d always felt in the other man’s presence made a fleeting pass but
vanished in the wake of what Turek was doing to him. Malen moved behind Turek and bent
his head to place a kiss on Turek’s neck, his eyes never once straying from Xilonen’s.
It wasn’t until Turek let out a low hiss, the man’s energised arousal now swamping
Xilonen, that it became clear what Malen was doing. Finally able to tear his gaze away,
Xilonen glanced down to find Turek naked from the waist down, Malen’s hand stroking the
man’s thick member as vigorously as Turek was handling Xilonen.
“Finish him off, love. I think he needs this as much as you do.”
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The sight of Turek’s long, beautiful member in Malen’s strong grip, the feel of Turek’s
constricting hand fisting his cock at a merciless pace, their combined tides of desire…all
became too much for him. His balls drew in tight, preparing to release their load as his body
quivered in anticipation. Just as he opened his mouth, Turek swooped down and swallowed
his cry. Xilonen’s body convulsed as his orgasm tore through him. Seconds later, Turek’s
loud groan vibrated along his lips. Warm jets of semen joined his on his chest and stomach, a
few even reaching his chin.
Xilonen was floating on a high he never wanted to come down from. Not even the need
for air as Turek guided his tongue in a slow, seductive dance could pull him out of the dream
he was living. Or maybe he wasn’t. For so long he’d built the fantasy of being accepted by his
mate—then, later on, both of these men—that this could very well be a figment of his
imagination. Combined with the glorious absence of others’ thoughts contending with his
own, it had become all too easy to believe that none of this was real.
“Let go now, beautiful. Let’s get you under the covers for a nap.”
A slight tug on his wrists roused him from his reverie. Blinking up in confusion, he
looked into Turek’s patient gaze. Massaging pressure on the backs of his hands alerted him
to their position and he quickly uncurled his fingers from the man’s brown locks. Heat
flamed his cheeks as he realised he’d moved without permission.
“Sorry.”
Turek smiled, kissing him lightly then travelling down to lick lazily at the drops of cum
on his chin. “It’s okay. Next time I’ll have to remember to tie you up first.”
The idea sent a shiver down his spine and, before he could think better of it, he
whispered, “Yes, please. I’d like that.” A small part of his conscience berated himself for
exposing his vulnerability. With a single word or a disgusted look, this man could crush him.
It would be no less than he deserved, but somehow he didn’t think Turek would. Nor Malen,
although that didn’t diminish the nervousness Xilonen felt while near him. The man had a
strength of presence that could fill the Grand Canyon and then some.
Turek’s smile widened. “So would I.” Taking a warm cloth from Malen, he wiped them
both down then handed it back. Xilonen felt his cock stir back to life as Turek shed his shirt
and crawled forwards to lift him to the head of the bed. He could have moved himself. Could
have pulled the red silk comforter over his body and tucked a pillow under his head, but he
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didn’t. The fact that Turek did so without the slightest hesitation was a jolt to the high he was
still riding. And an aphrodisiac like he couldn’t believe.
No one had ever taken the time to care for him this way, to pull him back from the edge
of madness using methods that had previously only existed in the back of his mind where
painful memories couldn’t taint them. Life had been about seeking out ways to meet his
needs, and later Shayne’s, while drawing the least amount of attention.
Until now.
Turek wrapped an arm around his chest and pulled him into a firm embrace. “Is Night
bothering you again?”
Xilonen shook his head. “How did you know?”
“That’s a discussion for another time,” Malen said with finality in his voice. “Right now
you need to get some rest.” The large man leaned over him to kiss Turek.
“We won’t be long,” Turek said.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll come and get you two when dinner’s ready.” Drawing
back, Malen leaned over again to press his lips softly to Xilonen’s forehead.
The intimate gestures were so at odds with the man’s usually gruff demeanour that
Xilonen felt himself smiling at the contrast. Maybe the big, bad biker wasn’t so scary after all.
Malen’s eyes hardened in the next instant, his voice deepening several octaves. “Go to
sleep.”
And there went that theory.
Still, there was no malice behind his tone. If anything, Xilonen thought he detected an
underlying hint of playful sternness. Deciding to test his limits, he let his smile grow. The
answering, lopsided grin made his stomach turn flips.
Malen shook his head as he straightened, grazing a single finger over Xilonen’s bottom
lip. “Trouble.”
As Xilonen watched his mate walk around the bed and leave the room, his travelling
gaze met Turek’s. The other man stared at him for a while, then pulled him in closer with a
sigh.
“What are we going to do with you?” Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Turek
interrupted him, “Don’t answer that. Close your eyes, beautiful. The big man gets mean
when his orders aren’t obeyed.”
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“Which one?” Xilonen grumbled.
Turek chuckled. “Seeing as how I’m closer, that would be me.”
Unable—and unwilling—to break Turek’s hold, Xilonen rested his head on the man’s
shoulder. The scents of musk and aftershave flowed into him with each breath. With the
strain of fighting his withdrawals throughout the day and Night’s latest attack, he felt
completely drained yet safe—for the first time in…well, for the first time. And it was
glorious. Xilonen let himself drift away to the steady beat of Turek’s heart.
* * * *
Nausea tore through him as his stomach rolled angrily. Acid churned and lapped at his
oesophagus, trying to fight its way out. Xilonen lurched upwards, desperate to make it to a
toilet in time but when he reached the side of the bed, the room tilted on its axis and sent him
tumbling awkwardly to the floor.
“Xilonen?”
Swift arms caught him before his body could make full impact. The sloshing sensation
of being lifted and carried caused his head to spin. “Sick,” he gasped.
More tossing sent the walls spinning, forcing him to clamp his eyes shut. He felt himself
being lowered just as his stomach heaved. Reaching out blindly, his hands came into contact
with cold, hard porcelain as he retched uncontrollably.
After what seemed an eternity, his stomach finally took mercy and subsided into an
aching knot, but his misery didn’t end there. The temperature seemed to drop several
degrees though his insides remained a raging furnace. His skin tightened as the sweat on it
dried and Xilonen heard himself whimper as he broke out into a rash of prickling itchiness.
“Lean back, baby. I’ve got you.”
Turek’s now-familiar smell and warmth surrounded him as he was guided back against
the man’s broad chest. A cool washcloth brushed across his forehead, cheeks and neck—
calming and chilling him further at the same time.
“Are you feeling better?”
Xilonen dipped his head and held on as he was carried back to the bedroom. When he
was propped up against a wall of pillows, two hands held him in place, keeping him from
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sliding down into a laying position. Irritation sparked and he opened his eyes to see Malen
leaning over him from the right side of the bed.
“You can go back to sleep after you get something in your stomach.”
The thought of food was almost enough to start another round of dry heaves and he
tried to pull away without success.
“This will help, trust me.” Malen sat down next to him and kept one arm around his
midsection as he brought a mug to Xilonen’s mouth. “It’s ginger tea for your nausea. Once
this is gone I want you to drink some water.”
The spicy aroma filled his nostrils and instantly became the most foul-smelling
substance he’d ever had the displeasure of inhaling. “You can’t be serious.”
Malen set the mug on the nightstand. “Would you like me to make this easier for you?”
Xilonen knew it was a trap, but found himself going for it regardless. “Okay.”
“Drink this and I’ll hold you for the rest of the night. When you need more in the
morning, we’ll take it from there.”
A burst of sarcastic laughter came out followed immediately by, “I don’t need you to
hold me.” He’d been taking care of himself for twenty-one years without help.
His eyes flew to Turek’s silent form standing at the foot of the bed. His mate’s face was
an expressionless mask, giving away nothing.
Looking back to Malen, he repeated, “I don’t need you.”
He didn’t need the man’s rules, his overbearing attitude, constant attention and
reassurance. Didn’t need someone who refused to take no for an answer, someone who
insisted on being his mate against all reason and beyond better judgement. Who ignored
Xilonen’s numerous denials of their bond and, instead, showed his determination in the form
of a possessive kiss, an indulgent smile…a promise to keep Xilonen and his brother safe no
matter the cost to himself…
Swallowing past the painful lump in his throat, he asked, “Could I have the drink back,
please?” Malen’s answering smile was brilliant, and Xilonen felt himself fall into it like a
drunk into a vat of aged scotch.
Malen handed him the mug but, to his embarrassment, he couldn’t take hold of it. His
hands shook so badly that some of the liquid sloshed over the rim and onto his thighs.
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“Put your hands down.” Malen moved forwards and brought the cup to Xilonen’s lips.
The tea was lukewarm and went down with surprising ease, so long as Xilonen breathed
through his mouth and not his nose.
When he’d managed to down half of the contents, Malen switched to a tall glass of
water. Of this he was only able to take a few sips before turning his head away. “I can’t.”
“It’s all right.” Malen gave the glass to Turek who put it on the nightstand. “You’ve
done very well. We’ll try again soon.”
Xilonen didn’t think that was such a great idea but he didn’t argue. He couldn’t, as
huge arms enfolded him and pulled him down to the centre of the bed. Turek added his heat
on the other side, trapping him in a blanket of warm flesh covering hard muscle. The
unyielding pressure turned out to be sweet torture. His skin itched, his stomach protested,
and the confined tremors only seemed to get worse, but nothing had ever felt so wonderful
in his life.
A deep shudder passed through him and both men increased their hold instantly.
“Is it the Gods?” Turek asked.
Xilonen’s frown went unnoticed. As soon as this was over, the first thing on his agenda
would be to ask how they’d found out about that particular power of his. Wanting to change
the subject, he enquired about his brother. “Shayne?”
“He’s asleep,” Malen told him. “You looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you for
dinner.”
Shame pierced his chest and he struggled ineffectually. “I should have been there. I
always put him to bed.”
“Shh, beautiful.” Malen stroked his hair until he settled down. “He practically made me
promise not to wake you. Even warned us that he’d be knocking on the door in the morning
to check up on you.”
“Shayne said he would knock?” Usually the little punk barged in like it was his Gods-
given right.
“He did after I told him I sleep in the nude.”
Xilonen chuckled then moaned as his stomach threatened to heave again. “Ugh, don’t
make me laugh.”
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Malen’s chest shook along his back, no doubt trying to hold back his own laughter at
Xilonen’s reaction. “Sorry, love. Get some more rest. You’re going to need it.”
Xilonen closed his eyes and did his damnedest to follow through with that order.
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Chapter Four
The voices rose in a deafening crescendo then slowly tapered off only to rise again
minutes later. Xilonen flopped his upper body over the side of the bed for a fifth round of
dry heaves that morning. Or maybe it was his sixth. He’d lost track a while ago, along with
the number of days he’d been bedridden and the last time Malen had talked him into
choking down another vile glass of water or tea.
Bastard.
Xilonen jumped at the shock of hands on his over-sensitive skin. Malen saved him from
a humiliating fall on his face and tugged him back onto the mattress. When the soft touch
became unbearable, Xilonen pushed him away. Adrenalin coursed through his system as he
writhed helplessly. Soon, it was the absence of touch that was driving him crazy and he
whimpered and reached shamelessly for it.
Malen’s hand latched on to his, followed quickly by the warmth of his massive body.
Shortly thereafter, the ritual repeated itself, as it had been doing hour after hour, day after
day…
Time passed. He endured. And the endless flow of misery carried on.
Eventually, he fell into an exhausted sleep. When he awoke again, it was to find himself
alone.
They were gone. Fear clawed at his mind, causing more damage than the interminable
thoughts that conspired to drive him to the brink of insanity. Too weak to even raise his head
to search for the men who’d promised they’d never leave him, he lay in a pool of his own
sweat. When the voices strengthened in volume, he couldn’t find it in him to fight them.
This was it. They would swallow him whole and his madness would finally consume
him.
A small sob tore at his throat. He couldn’t leave them to deal with a monster. The curse
of his power was his to bear. Not Shayne’s or the men who had sacrificed so much of
themselves in a hopeless attempt to help him get better.
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Turek’s face came into view, filling him with a rush of grateful relief. Concern marred
the man’s perfect features and his lips moved but Xilonen couldn’t hear him over the torrent
of voices in his head. The other man shouted something over his shoulder then looked back,
fear shining from his wide eyes.
Xilonen didn’t like that look. In fact, he hated it. Nothing should terrify his strong mate.
Xilonen forced his voice to work but it cracked. His second try was cut off as Night chose that
moment to begin another tirade, the pain of her shrieks nearly enough to split his skull in
two.
* * * *
Shayne propped his elbows, chin in hands, on the makeshift workbench that consisted
of two boards resting atop four cinderblocks. Contentedly, he stared down at the man in
front of him. Collen lay on his back, arms stretched above his head just high enough to create
a gap between his white, sleeveless T-shirt and his low-riding, faded jeans. There was a trail
of fine hairs a few shades darker than his ponytail that began beneath the cover of his shirt
and ended somewhere under the front of his pants. It held Shayne’s fascination even more
than the 1969 Shovelhead Harley Collen was working on.
He wondered if someday he would grow hair on his body. Z was the only man he’d
ever seen naked and, if what he knew about genes was correct, he was going to be SOL in the
hair department when he got older.
“Do you have hair all over your body?”
Collen craned his neck to look at him as though he’d gone mad. Shayne shrugged his
shoulders in defence. It was a perfectly normal question as far as he was concerned. It’s not
like he was asking the man to get naked right there in the front yard. Although…
“Just about everywhere but on my back, thank the Gods. Hand me the crescent wrench,
short stuff.”
Studying the tools spread out before him, Shayne spotted the one he was after and
jumped up to hand it to Collen. Over the past several days he’d learnt a lot from the huge
biker. Mainly information on bikes, engines, and anything with power and speed. He knew
Collen was doing it to keep his mind occupied while Z healed, but a part of him hoped that
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the man also hung around because he wanted to. Not simply because Malen and Turek had
their hands full with his brother.
Figuratively, of course. Physically, it was just not an image he needed to contemplate at
that moment. If ever.
“How long have you known Malen and Turek?” Shayne’s gaze returned to the supple
flexing of Collen’s muscles as the man went back to his task.
“I met Turek about a year and a half ago. He’s good people. Malen, I’ve unfortunately
known nearly my whole life.”
Shayne frowned. “Don’t you like him?” If not for the differences in hair colour and
facial features, he would have thought the two were brothers. They had the kind of irritating
bond that allowed them to know what each other was thinking without words, which left
everyone around them in the dark. A lot like he had with Z.
“Malen? I love him.” Collen sat up and took a swig of his bottled Coke. “Can’t think of
any man besides Turek who would treat your brother better. Don’t mean the guy doesn’t
have his faults, though.”
“Like you?” Shayne said with a smirk.
Collen spread his arms wide. “Hey, I’ve learnt a lot of things in my old age, and one of
them is, I may not always be right, but I’m never wrong.”
Shayne rolled his eyes. “Can you be serious about anything?”
“Not according to my shrink. Hand me the flathead screwdriver.”
“How old are you?” Shayne asked as he carried the tool over to Collen.
“Old enough to be your grandfather about twenty-five times over.”
“Eww.”
Collen raised his brows as he took the tool. “Good thing my ego doesn’t bruise easily.”
“No, I didn’t mean that,” Shayne rushed to say. The man was far from ‘eww’. Collen
had the kind of sun-kissed tan and sculpted muscles every boy wanted to either emulate or
jerk off to. In his situation—both. But thinking of Collen as a relative made his skin crawl. “I
think you look ho…umm…I mean good. For your age and all.” Heat scalded his cheeks as a
slow grin stretched Collen’s lips. Shayne let his bangs fall forwards as he retreated to the
bench, cursing his pale skin as he went.
“I got a present for you.”
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Shayne’s head snapped up. “Really?”
“Yeah. Look in my saddlebags.”
Propelled into action, he ran back to Collen’s side to unbuckle the straps of the bags on
the man’s bike.
“Malen!”
Shayne froze in place. He recognised the alarmed shout as Turek’s from somewhere
inside the cabin. Collen sprang to his feet then paused, meeting Shayne’s eyes as they both
held their breath to listen for more.
Then it came.
Z’s chilling scream rent the air and broke Shayne from his paralysis. He raced up the
porch steps and slammed through the front door. Collen yelled for him to stop but he
ignored it as he took the stairs two at a time. Z was in trouble. That was all that mattered at
that moment. Collen grabbed his wrist just as he barged into the room his brother shared
with his mates but what they saw brought them both to an abrupt halt.
Turek was kneeling on the bed, holding the upper part of Xilonen’s body up with one
arm while he used his other hand to lightly slap Xilonen’s cheek. Malen leaned in from the
other side and peeled back one of Xilonen’s lids. Shayne nearly collapsed in relief as he saw
his brother squirm in discomfort. Only the man lying on the bed didn’t resemble his brother
at all. Z looked like a shadow of his former self. Even from where Shayne stood, it was plain
to see the bluish tinge to his pale lips and the dark circles under his eyes.
“He’s getting worse,” Turek said in a voice that trembled. “He can barely move. I think
Night started in on him again but he’s not responding to me anymore.”
Malen shook his head. “We did the research. The worst of his symptoms should have
passed after three days.”
“It’s been four!” Turek shouted. “You know as well as I do that those symptoms can
include death. We’re losing him.”
Malen shook his head adamantly this time and Shayne found himself mimicking the
action. “What’s going on?” Shayne asked. When no one responded, he let his panic carry his
voice. “What’s going on?” he yelled.
That earned him everyone’s attention, save for his brother’s, who’d lapsed into a
disconcerting silence. Turek mumbled the word ‘fuck’ before turning his focus back to
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Xilonen. Malen appeared as if he would demand for Shayne to leave the room but seemed to
change his mind at the last second.
“How long has your brother been taking drugs, Shayne?”
“Huh?” His brain was still trying to process Turek’s words. When Malen repeated the
question, he forced out, “Nine.”
“Nine years?”
A sick feeling crept in as Malen’s sharp tone snapped him out of his daze. “No. Since he
was nine years old. It’s been twelve years. Our father, he…” Shayne faltered as his voice
cracked. “Dane made him take the drugs. He said Z’s power would drive him mad if he
didn’t take them, but that can’t be true. Dane took drugs for a lot longer than my brother. He
had the same power and he still went mad. It’s the drugs, isn’t it? Not his power. He’s dying
because he stopped taking them.”
Malen’s face turned into a mask of cold fury. “He is not going to die.” To Turek he
ordered, “Get the car. We’ll take him to the hospital.”
“It’s too much exposure,” Turek protested. “There’re at least a handful of Keepers that
work there. If one of them recognises Xilonen, they could alert the others. We won’t be able
to protect him out in the open like that.”
“Maybe we won’t have to.” All heads turned to Collen. The biker’s deep green eyes
stared down into Shayne’s as though offering a ray of hope. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Collen raced out of the room as Shayne faced the bed once more. Malen and Turek were
talking animatedly about ways to find his brother medical help but Shayne heard none of it.
All he could see was Z’s limp form contrasting like snow against the black sheets, his head
lolling back over the crook of Turek’s arm.
Collen came back into the room and handed a clear sandwich bag with small, white
pills inside to Malen.
“Give him two of these. It should be enough to stabilise him until we can find out what
dosage he was on.”
Malen’s hard gaze flicked from the pills to Collen. “These look exactly like the ones I
confiscated from Xilonen. Did you hide them from us?”
Collen’s straight brows drew down in a scowl. “I’d kick your ass for that if you didn’t
have every right to doubt me. Yes, it’s MS Contin, but I got them from Myia. She finally
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kicked her addiction last year. I helped her through it but the only way she could quit was by
weaning herself off of it. When I found out that’s what Xilonen was on, I asked if she’d kept
some. Don’t worry. She has no idea who I got it for and I made sure I wasn’t followed.”
After a tense period of scrutiny, Malen took two pills from the bag and opened
Xilonen’s slack jaw with his other hand. Turek grabbed a half-empty glass of water from the
nightstand and sat poised to pour it once the medication was in.
“Take these, baby. They’ll make you feel better,” Malen crooned.
As soon as the pills touched Xilonen’s tongue, the smaller man roused from his stupor
and veered back, catching Turek off guard. The glass was knocked from his hand and
shattered against the wall. The bed erupted in a flurry of limbs and shouts as Xilonen
suddenly came to life with a fury. Shayne stepped closer but Collen held him by the
shoulders.
The struggle was over in the span of a few seconds, but not for Xilonen’s lack of effort.
Turek held his legs down while Malen straddled his upper body and pinned his wrists,
calling out his name over and over again.
“I’m sorry. Please, Father. It won’t happen again.” Xilonen’s voice was no more than a
hoarse rasp but his tortured plea was heard by all. Looking directly at Malen, he said, “I
didn’t mean to kill him. It was an accident. I’m sorry.”
It was apparent that Malen was reluctant to use any more force than necessary. The big
man, both men, could snap Xilonen like a twig if they wanted. But that didn’t stop their
mate’s struggles. At this point, it was also clear that Xilonen wasn’t just trying to get away.
He was fighting as though his life depended on it. The two had to readjust their hold as
Xilonen bucked and writhed. Z’s breath was coming in short pants and Shayne was afraid he
would start hyperventilating.
“Xilonen!” Malen shouted. “What are you talking about?”
A gut-wrenching sob broke from Xilonen’s chest. “I would never use my power on you,
Father. P-please don’t make me take the drugs again. I’ll behave. I promise…”
“Oh, Gods,” Turek whispered.
“He’s hallucinating,” Collen said. “You’re going to have to force him to take the pills.”
“No!” Shayne couldn’t stand by and let them hurt his brother, whether it was for his
own good or not.
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Collen’s hands squeezed his arm. “He has to take them, little man. Quitting cold turkey
was too much of a shock to his system.”
“I know, but I can calm him down. You won’t be able to take his energy. He’s got too
much God power in him.”
Malen looked over his shoulder at his other mate. Turek nodded his head. “I’ve already
tried. His body is resisting me, but I don’t think it’s intentional.”
“Same here,” Malen said grimly. “Once you take his energy, I want you to wait
downstairs with Collen. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Shayne wasn’t about to argue. He needed time to process what was going on.
Focusing on his brother’s individual essence, he pushed past natural barriers and
withdrew enough energy to ease Xilonen’s stress. It was becoming easier. Since birth, his
body was naturally inclined to absorb energy from Gods and halflings, but it took some
effort to increase or decrease the level of absorption. Z’s tutoring in this area had helped
immensely with his control.
Xilonen’s hallucination seemed to pass along with the last ounce of his strength. He
promptly passed out after Malen massaged the pills down his throat.
Shayne left behind the daunting scene in the room and proceeded down the stairs to the
ground floor. Each step became harder than the last as his emotions slowly returned. He’d
caused this to happen. How many times had he begged Z to get off the drugs? Cursing him
and branding him a coward when his brother had refused. If Z had given in to his request…
If Malen, Turek and Collen hadn’t been there to pull him through, Z would have died.
All for his selfish desires.
Z hadn’t just raised him. He’d been his mentor, friend, protector and confidant since
birth. All while on drugs. Even when Shayne had ratted out the last of his supply, Z had
done nothing but quietly accept his decision. Why couldn’t he have shown his brother the
same kind of unconditional support as Z had always shown him?
He knew why. And the answer sparked a well of rage that surprised him with its
intensity.
Storming into the living room, he swung a fist at the nearest object but Collen caught
his arm. Twisting free, he span and glared at the older man.
“Get away from me! I want to be alone.”
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“Shayne,” Collen said in a soothing voice, “I know this is hard on you.”
Shayne barked out a humourless laugh. “You don’t know anything,” he ground out. “Z
could’ve died because of me.”
“You are not to blame for this. Xilonen put his life in danger by withholding secrets
from us all.”
“Yeah? Well, so did I! I didn’t want him off the drugs because I was afraid for him. I
wanted him off because I was afraid of him.” There. He’d said it. He’d finally revealed the
truth. Only it didn’t bring him relief. “I was afraid of what he would make me do.”
Collen dropped to his knees in front of him. “What are you saying, little one?”
“I didn’t want to have to kill him like he killed Dane,” Shayne burst out. “I didn’t want
to turn into a monster.” At any second, he expected Collen to tear into him for not putting his
brother’s needs above his own, but the huge man only engulfed him in a crushing hug.
“By the Gods, what has she done? What has that bitch done? Oh, sweetheart, it’s not
your fault.”
Shayne knew he was missing something important. None of what he’d heard in the
past several minutes made any sense, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. His tall, sexy
friend was rocking him gently, rubbing his back and murmuring pretty words that would
have made him puke with laughter at any other time. But right then, they were perfect.
Letting go of the last of his reserves, he wept silently in Collen’s solid embrace.
When his tears were spent, Collin carried him to the couch and sat beside him. “I know
this is difficult for you, but I want you to tell me why your brother killed your father.”
Shayne sniffed. “My father had been getting worse over the years but I don’t really
know what set Z off. Dane brought home a friend one day. I thought it was strange. My
father hated people as much as they hated him. They kept staring at me while they were
talking in the kitchen so I went to my room. Next thing I know, Z came home and started
arguing with them.”
“About what?”
He shrugged. His memory of that day wasn’t very clear. “They were shouting but I
couldn’t understand them. By the time I came out, the stranger was gone. It was just Z and
Dane.” A shiver coursed through him as he pictured the events in his mind. “I’d never seen Z
stand up to our father like that. When Dane saw me, he started coming for me. Z screamed at
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me to run…and I did. I didn’t see my brother for a week after that. When I asked him about it
later, he said that Dane’s power had driven him mad, and Z had to kill him before someone
got hurt.”
“Why did your brother leave you alone that day in the first place?”
“He needed a new tat. He usually took me with him but I was tired of him babysitting
me all the time. I could take care of myself. After he killed Dane, he got the awesome hawk
on his back. Jack did a really good job on that one.”
Collen frowned down at him. “He needed a tat?”
“Yeah. To cover up his scars.”
* * * *
Turek stole another sideways glance at his mate—the big one overflowing the poor,
leather armchair suffocating under his mass. The one that actually fit Malen’s frame was too
big to fit through their bedroom door. Go figure.
His gaze then spanned to the lone figure on the bed, eyes routinely assessing life
signs—lashes fluttering with REM sleep, chest faintly rising and falling, lips red and moist
against pale skin. Xilonen would pull through, of that they were certain. Now they just had
to wait for him to wake up. Once more Turek’s sight migrated back to the slumbering giant.
“If you keep looking at me, I’ll put more than just your eyes to use.”
Turek grinned widely. “And what makes you think I’d let you.”
Malen cracked his eyes open and squinted at him. “I didn’t say I’d ask.”
Chuckling, he leant back in his own chair and stretched his stiff legs. He missed this.
The constant battle of wits and will that kept them on their toes with each other. Soon they
would have it again, and it would be all the better for the new twists Xilonen would offer.
“Spit it out, love. I know you’ve got something on your mind.”
A long sigh deflated his chest. “The other day, when we helped Xilonen to control his
power. I was—”
“Dominant.”
“Yes.”
Malen shifted his body to face him. “And he loved it. So did you.”
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“I did.” There was no way to hide the truth. Malen had been there. “I don’t know what
came over me.”
Cocking his head to the side, Malen asked, “Are you saying you wouldn’t want to do it
again?”
He thought about that then glanced at their sleeping mate. Even back from a brutal
journey to Death’s door—or hidden realm, as the case was—the man was stunning. It was
more than the physical pull of his energy that lured Turek in and held him captive. Turek
recognised the same need to please and submit in Xilonen that lived within him, but he
found he wasn’t satisfied to submit alongside his younger mate. Xilonen had given him the
gift of experiencing what it was like on the other side of the rainbow, and he couldn’t wait to
go back there again.
“No. It feels natural to dominate him, but I don’t want that to change things between
us.”
Malen leaned his long body over and grasped Turek’s chin, forcing eye contact. “You’re
a switch. There’s nothing wrong with that. Having Xilonen here and watching the way you
two react to each other actually makes a lot of sense.”
“How’s that?”
“You never were one to submit all of the time. You’re too strong-willed. On the
occasions you’ve shown aggression with me, it’s been amazing to see. That’s one of the
things Oremond could never appreciate about you.”
At the mention of his ex-lover’s name, Turek tried to turn his head but Malen held him
fast. “Let me finish. I meant to say that Xilonen fills that urge within you. He can make you
happy in a way I alone never could.”
His protest died as Malen brought their mouths together almost savagely. The kiss was
hot and possessive and when his lover’s tongue dived in demandingly, he knew exactly what
the man was trying to prove. Turek’s brain went on autopilot as his body became pliant—
Malen’s instrument to do with as he pleased. There was no thought, no pressure. Only pure
instinct.
His mate growled into him and the animalistic sound sent ripples of pleasure dancing
along his skin. His cock jumped and thickened, begging for attention. Malen bit down hard
on his lower lip before letting him up for air.
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“Take things slow. You can learn to love both sides of the coin without having to
choose.”
A soft moan from the bed drew their attention.
“Don’t stop.” Xilonen said, staring at them both intently.
The comforter was tented in the area of his groin and moving in a back and forth
motion, giving Turek a good idea of what was going on beneath the sheets. Fuck if that
didn’t gear up his erection to the point of pain. He was half tempted to sink to his knees and
take Malen into his mouth like he’d been planning and let Xilonen bring himself to climax
just watching them. Maybe later, but a definite possibility.
“How long have you been awake?” he asked.
Xilonen blushed, bringing colour to his face for the first time in days. He stopped his
massage and sat up in bed with a yawn. Stress lines creased his forehead and gaunt cheeks,
as if not even in sleep had he been able to rest.
“How are you feeling?”
“Good. Really good.” Xilonen frowned, rubbing his bare stomach. “I’m hungry, too.
Wow. Thought it would take me at least a few weeks to start feeling normal,” he said in
surprise, then mumbled, “Whatever that is.”
Turek shared a grim look with Malen. “We’re not out of the woods yet. There were
some complications. We shouldn’t have cut you off like we did. We managed to get some
more morphine so that you can wean yourself off of it.” Fortunately, one of the Keepers who
worked at the hospital was a physician who Collen had sweet-talked into writing him a
prescription for his ‘joint pains’.
Xilonen’s face went blank. “But I thought you wanted me off of the drugs. I was doing
it for you. And Shayne.”
Joy bubbled up inside until a small smile leaked out. Finally, finally, their mate had
admitted to wanting to be with them, to please them. Not exactly in the context Turek would
have preferred, but he’d take it nonetheless.
“I’m happy to hear you say that, and we do want you to get healthy, but your body was
going into shock. We had no choice.”
“We didn’t know you’d been taking drugs for so long,” Malen said. “Why didn’t you
tell us?”
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“How did…” Realisation sparked in Xilonen’s eyes along with a hint of anger. “Shayne
told you. That’s how you knew about the voices, too.”
Turek spoke before Malen could respond. Now wasn’t the time for reprimands. “We
thought you were only taking them to drown out Night’s thoughts.”
Xilonen raked his dishevelled hair with a trembling hand. In a none-too-steady voice,
he answered, “I was trying to drown them all out. Their thoughts never leave me. The drugs
help me tune them out if they’re not too loud. My mother kept me alive to spy on the other
Gods for her. She’s the only one of them who knows about my power. Ever since I lied to her
about the Gods intervening at the battle with Mikel and then ran away with Shayne, she’s
been hounding me through her thoughts. She figures if she drives me insane, I’ll eventually
slip up or give Shayne back to her.”
“So it was you who caused the explosions that distracted and killed some of Mikel’s
men,” Malen surmised. At Xilonen’s nod, his broad shoulders relaxed a fraction. “How
exactly did you do that?”
“I can manipulate electrical fields and generate pulses. If it can conduct electricity, I can
blow it up.”
“And the thoughts are why you started taking the drugs?”
Shit, Turek thought. He should have known Malen would bring the subject up at the
first opportunity. The man couldn’t stand to have unresolved issues, especially if they
concerned his mates.
“Of course. My father had the same power. He took drugs as well but…” Xilonen
shrugged one shoulder. “I guess they stopped working for him. The voices drove him mad.”
A small smile lifted his lips. “He never found his mate, though. I have. Both of them. I know I
can get through this without going insane.”
Oh, Gods. Those words sliced like a knife through his heart. How long had he waited to
hear them? Years, it seemed—so sure they would bring him and Malen happiness. But that’s
not where this conversation was headed.
Malen’s back stiffened, letting Turek know he was no less affected by Xilonen’s
admission, nor what must be done. “Have you ever killed someone before those who were
serving Mikel?”
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Xilonen tensed, his eyes darting between the two of them. “No. I… I don’t use my
powers to kill. I mean, I did, but I had no choice. I was going to blow up the buildings when
they were empty as a scare tactic to stall Mikel, but then you showed up. I couldn’t take the
risk of blowing them without knowing where you would be so I turned you in to Mikel. I’m
not a monster.”
Malen shifted forwards and gentled his voice. “Xilonen, did your father force you to
take drugs because you accidentally killed someone with your power? Was he afraid you
would try to kill him as well?”
Xilonen paled significantly, the tremble in his hands moving to vibrate his whole body.
After swallowing convulsively, he rasped, “I didn’t… I don’t…” Squeezing his eyes shut, he
shook his head vigorously then glared at them both. “This is none of your fucking business.”
“You’re our mate. That makes it our business. We need to know everything your
mother might use against you when we go before the Gods to have the charges against you
dropped.”
Turek swore he could hear tears in Xilonen’s breath of laughter.
“You honestly think they’ll take my word over hers?”
“Depending on your answer, it would back the statement Jace has already made on
your behalf. He doesn’t believe that you willingly cooperated with Mikel.” In a quieter voice,
Malen said, “Shayne told us that you killed your father. We need to know why.”
Pain and rage radiated from their young mate as he crossed his arms tightly over his
midsection. “You mean, you need to know if I’m as ruthless as everyone thinks I am. Well,
they’re right about one thing. I’m really not worth saving.” Xilonen threw back the blankets
and sprang from the bed, unabashed by his nudity. His legs gave out almost instantly from
lack of use but he clutched the windowsill in time to keep from toppling over.
Turek moved to offer aid but Malen placed a staying hand on his forearm.
“There will be no trial,” Xilonen said in a wavering voice. “I came here to ask for your
help in protecting Shayne, not to put him in further danger by exposing Night’s plan.”
“He will always be in danger if you keep running. We’re giving you a chance to end it.”
Xilonen huffed sarcastically. “Some chance. It’s her game now, always has been.” Their
mate eased the full weight of his body onto his legs and walked stiffly to the dresser. From
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the second drawer, he pulled out his clothes and threw them onto the bed. “I was wrong to
come here.”
“So you would rather leave than confide in us?” Malen asked.
Turek kept a cool façade but inside he was screaming. He understood what Malen was
doing. They were only three men, four including Collen, against the majority of their race
and a pantheon of Gods. Their only chance at survival was to be proactive. Xilonen needed to
make a stand.
“I already told you what you needed to know. That should have been good enough.”
Malen squeezed Turek’s arm then stood and pulled his wallet from his back pocket.
Taking his cue, Turek got up and followed his large mate to Xilonen.
“Here’s my credit card.” Malen said, handing it and a folded piece of paper to Xilonen.
“There’s plenty of money in the account. I’ll deposit more funds into it on the first of every
month. The keys to my car are in the kitchen. I’ve only driven it around town here so no one
should recognise it anywhere else. On the paper you’ll find our cell phone numbers and
address, as well as Collen’s. If you need anything, give us a call.” He threaded his fingers
through Xilonen’s hair then leant down to kiss his forehead.
Turek did the same, lingering a few moments to savour the contact. “We will always be
here for you.”
Xilonen stared at them in shock. “So you’re going to let me go?”
Playing into what he hoped was Malen’s reverse psychology, Turek said, “We can’t
force you to stay. We realise that now. When you’re ready to come back, we’ll be waiting.”
“I’ll let Shayne know to pack his things,” Malen added.
The flare of alarm that crossed the young man’s face was unmistakable as Turek and
Malen turned for the door. Their footfalls were loud in the ensuing silence. It was the most
excruciating trek Turek had ever made in his life, and the thought of reaching the hallway, let
alone the stairs, without so much as a hint of protest from Xilonen was a drop of acid to his
heart with each passing second. It wasn’t until they were halfway down the hall that his
lungs remembered how to breathe.
“Wait.”
Relief flooded in and it was all he could do to keep it from spilling over into his energy.
They took up position just inside the doorway and waited for their mate to continue. Xilonen
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fidgeted nervously, worrying his bottom lip between rows of white teeth. His bottom half
was now modestly covered by a pair of dark blue sweatpants, leaving the stark cut of his ribs
and hip bones in plain view.
“You knew I would try to run again.”
Neither man answered. While Turek had planned on using brute force to keep Xilonen
with them, Malen had come up with a much better solution…which he had conveniently
neglected to inform him of. Turek decided he’d have to experiment with his newfound
aggressive tendencies and deliver more than a five-minute cock tease to his dominant
partner for the slight.
“Nothing I tell you can be used to incriminate Night. She didn’t even know what was
going on at the time.”
“Does she know now?” Malen asked. Xilonen nodded hesitantly. “Then we build our
case. We’ll need as much defence as we will offence. It’s only a matter of time before she slips
and provides us with the evidence we need.”
“If I…” Xilonen swallowed audibly. “If I tell you what happened, will you let me stay?”
He placed the credit card and paper on the dresser as though to seal his end of the bargain.
Turek wanted to pull the fragile man into his arms but remained where he stood. The
rigid set to Xilonen’s shoulders told him his mate was hanging on to his pride by a thread.
“We want you here whether you tell us or not.”
Xilonen nodded absently then retreated to his side of the bed, sitting with his back
turned to them. “My father, he would get bored with sitting around the house taking care of
me. I wasn’t allowed to go to school so he was stuck with me all of the time. Night had
forbidden him from having sex with other females. Didn’t want to have to clean up his mess
if he got any of them pregnant. But she only came around when she wanted to check up on
me so he found other ways to entertain himself. He started bringing home men. Prostitutes
or guys from bars. They were good for a quick fuck with no attachments. I didn’t care. They
didn’t bother me, I didn’t bother them.
“One night he brought home a real winner. They were drinking too much. Dane was
wasted, but I swear the stranger was stone sober. I left my room to get some water and I
could feel his eyes on me the whole time. They called me over. I should’ve ignored them, but
it was the first time my father had paid attention to me in months.”
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Xilonen gave a cynical laugh. “I was so stupid. The guy made an offer for my ass. I was
so shocked I couldn’t move.” There was a pause, and when he spoke again, it was in a voice
that shook with emotion. “I t-tried to run but the stranger tackled me. When he… He tried…
But I was so scared I just reacted.”
Xilonen glanced at them over his shoulder and the haunted look behind the shimmer of
tears on his lashes almost brought Turek to his knees. Malen’s hands were clenched into tight
fists, the tendons in his neck pronounced with the effort to hold in the fury Turek could feel
in his energy.
The trembling in their mate’s body increased. “I never meant to electrocute him. I didn’t
even have any powers until then, but Dane wouldn’t believe me. He was convinced I would
kill him too, so he locked me in the basement and fed me his morphine until I was addicted.
Idiot. If he’d done that in the first place he probably wouldn’t have had to get rid of a corpse.
“It wasn’t until a year later that I started hearing the thoughts of the Gods. That’s when
I stopped trying to get off of the morphine. The voices would grow so loud I thought they
would crush me.”
Taking a deep breath, Xilonen swiped at his eyes then continued. “When Shayne was
ten, Dane tried doing the same thing to him. I got home and found some guy counting out
hundred dollar bills to my father. I couldn’t let it happen. Dane started beating me like he
always did when I went against him but I couldn’t feel it. All I could think about was Shayne
and the next thing I knew, Dane was lying dead on the kitchen floor.”
Malen cleared his throat. “What happened to the man Dane brought over?”
Xilonen shrugged and bowed his head. “I don’t know. He was gone before I used my
power.”
Turek touched Malen’s nearest fist and watched as the man visibly forced himself to
relax, though he was having trouble getting his own emotions under control. Circling the
bed, he knelt in front of Xilonen and caught his mate’s head in both hands. “None of that was
your fault. You did what you had to and Shayne is a lucky kid to have a brother like you.
And I’m one fuck of a lucky man to have you for a mate.”
Xilonen’s thin brows scrunched in confusion, his eyes skittering to Malen who had
hunched down beside Turek. “You still want me?”
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“You belong to us. Nothing will ever change that.” Despite the conviction in his voice,
large tears spilled down Xilonen’s cheeks as a cloud of despair settled over him.
“Until the next time I get stubborn and decide to leave.”
Turek was at a loss as to how to reassure his floundering mate but, as always, Malen
already had things well in hand—without his knowledge…again. The larger man would soon
be venturing into the territory of extreme sexual frustration if he kept this up.
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that, love,” Malen said with full confidence. “I think
you’re forgetting the first rule I gave you. You are not to leave this house without my
permission.”
Xilonen frowned. “But—”
Rising from the floor, Malen retrieved the piece of paper from the dresser and handed it
back to Xilonen. “You’ll learn that the rules Turek and I set for you will be followed at all
times.”
Unfolding the paper, Xilonen mouthed the written words then gaped at Malen. “You
gave me a grocery list?”
“Of course not. That’s what we’ll be having for dinner. There are five of us so I suggest
you start early.” He glanced at his watch. “In about an hour should be fine. That’ll give you
time to take a shower and talk to your brother. He’s been worried about you.”
A slow grin lit every angle of the young man’s face, chasing the haunted look from his
eyes and replacing it with…adoration. It wasn’t love, not yet, but it would be. Turek nearly
fell back as his mate crashed into him, hugging him tightly. When Xilonen did the same to
Malen, Turek saw stark relief glittering in the older man’s eyes.
Malen cleared his throat then pulled Xilonen back to kiss him briefly. “Go on. Take a
shower.” He steered their mate towards the bathroom and soundly swatted his ass. “And
don’t even think about closing that door. My house, my rules.”
“Our house, our rules,” Turek corrected as he came up beside Malen. Xilonen flashed
them a grin then rushed off to do as he was told.
Turning to Malen, Turek whispered, “You’re in deep shit. You know this, right?”
Malen gave his most charming smile to which Turek snorted but then there wasn’t time
for anything else. The big man grabbed two handfuls of hair and pulled him forwards, taking
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control of his mouth as if he had all the right in the world. And he did. Turek melted into his
dominating roughness as every nerve ending in his body came alive.
A soft groan made him aware of their audience and the thrum of Xilonen’s arousal only
heightened his own.
“As much as I’d like you to take your frustration out on me,” Malen said against his
lips, “I think someone else might like it better.”
Turek grinned wickedly at the thought then, in a louder voice, said, “We’ll see. If he
behaves.” The whimper that came from the direction of the bathroom had his cock swelling
against the tight fit of his pants, but he refrained from pulling it out to tease his young mate
further. Malen had given him plenty of lessons in sexual torture, and as much as the idea of
teaching them to Xilonen thrilled him, he could wait. If his mate behaved.
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Chapter Five
“Any change?”
Accepting the glass of iced tea with a nod of thanks, Malen sat back in the lawn chair as
Turek took a seat next to him. “None, so far. I’m beginning to think he’s more obstinate than
you ever were.”
“I wasn’t that bad,” Turek scoffed.
“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that.”
Turek’s low chuckle was overshadowed by a sharp peal of laughter from several yards
away. Shayne was doubled over in hysterics. When the kid finally caught his breath, he
called out, “You throw like a girl.” Jogging forwards, he scooped up a baseball and threw it
back to Collen. “Flick your wrist before you let it go. You’ll get more distance.”
Collen grumbled under his breath as he caught the ball. “Just keep your eyes on the
ball, squirt.”
The two had been at this for a good twenty minutes and, if Malen wasn’t mistaken,
Collen’s aim was actually getting worse. Shayne, however, had a pretty good arm on him.
Apparently, Xilonen had been practicing with him over the past few years while planning to
enrol him in a public school instead of continuing with home schooling. The kid had the
skills to get on a team if he wanted to, and possibly a scholarship if he kept it up.
Xilonen had declined his brother’s invitation to practice in the backyard by insisting
that he needed to prepare lunch. Malen could tell it was because the thoughts of the Gods
were starting to bother him as his morning dose wore off, but Xilonen was refusing to ask for
help.
Sizzling noises from the meat on the grill joined Shayne’s whoops of laughter at
Collen’s latest attempt to throw. The man was a miracle worker when it came to engines, but
a pitcher he was not.
“This would go a lot smoother if I had a bat,” Collen yelled as Shayne ran to fetch the
ball from a copse of thick bushes.
“If you had a bat, we’d be damn lucky to get away with our lives,” Shayne shot back.
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“Hey, watch your mouth, short shit.”
The kid dropped his jaw at Collen’s hypocrisy, getting even by throwing the ball as
hard as he could at the man. Surprisingly, Collen caught it in his glove, which earned him an
ugly glare from Shayne.
“Lucky catch.” Shayne mumbled.
Malen sat forwards as he noticed that Shayne had moved dangerously close to Xilonen.
If Collen overshot the ball, it would head directly for his mate. “Xilonen, come sit down
while the food is cooking.” There was no response. Standing as he saw Collen winding up
for another pitch, he called again, a little louder this time. “Xilonen. Come here.” A bad
feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as he started towards his oblivious mate.
From the corner of his eye, he watched the ball curve to the far left and bounce off a
large pine tree, its new trajectory taking it straight to Xilonen. Closing the distance between
them in two leaps, he span his mate to the side with an arm wrapped around his midsection
and raised his free hand to catch the errant ball. The force of it stung his palm and a swift
rush of anger filled him at the knowledge that it could have easily knocked Xilonen out.
Collen jogged over but stopped short when Malen sent him a murderous look. “I’m
sorry. Gods, I wasn’t paying attention. Is he okay?”
Malen tossed the ball to Shayne who had run to join them. Turek reached for Xilonen
but as soon as his hand made contact, the smaller man jerked to the side as though burned by
the touch. Readjusting his grip, Malen turned his mate and forced his head up. Xilonen’s eyes
were glazed and unfocused, a coating of blood staining his slack lips most likely from an
effort to drive the voices away through pain. It wasn’t the first time it had happened.
Malen shook his mate roughly. Xilonen roused from his stupor and looked up.
“I’m fine. Is something wrong?” Even as he asked it, he squirmed to get out of Malen’s
hold, his movements sluggish and half-hearted.
“Let’s get him inside,” Turek said, stepping behind Xilonen to herd him towards the
house.
“Does he need more drugs?” Shayne asked anxiously. “The Gods―”
“He’s got to learn to control his power on his own.”
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“I said I’m fine,” Xilonen barked. “Let me go, please.” His pleading eyes darted from
Malen to Shayne and back. It was obvious he didn’t want his brother to see his weakness, but
he was in no condition to keep up the pretence of being in control of his power.
As casually as possible, Malen drew his mate into a hug and whispered, “You’re
bleeding and shaking like a leaf. You will go inside.” Xilonen sucked in a breath but jerked
his head down in assent. Pulling back, Malen smiled reassuringly down at Shayne. “We’ll be
right back. Make sure this idiot doesn’t break any windows while we’re gone.” Shayne gave
him a hesitant nod. Shooting one last glare of warning at Collen, he and Turek led their mate
into the cabin.
They didn’t stop until they were upstairs in their room with Xilonen standing in the
centre. As soon as Malen released him, their mate ground the heels of his palms into his
closed lids. Malen stood before him with his arms crossed over his chest while Turek took up
position to his side.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were having trouble with the voices?”
“I’m—”
“Fine,” Malen finished for him. “Lie to me again and I’ll bend you over my knee and
make sure you can’t sit for the next two days.”
Xilonen’s head shot up, eyes wide with disbelief. That, Malen had been aiming for.
What he hadn’t expected was the sudden surge of lust that exploded from his mate. The air
fairly crackled with charged energy and Malen bit down on the inside of his cheek in barely
enough time to stifle a moan. His body responded like a fuse to a spark, adding its own
current to the thick flow of desire. Soon Turek’s arousal joined theirs, creating a miasma of
sensation that threatened to drown him.
Movement brought him back to his senses and he snatched Xilonen’s hand up before it
arrived at its destination. “I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself.” Xilonen’s
whimper was both endearing and invigorating but Malen refused to get sidetracked. “You
didn’t answer my question.”
Blinking up at him, Xilonen took a small step forwards. “I’m sorry. I thought I could
handle it. Will you punish me?”
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Oh, Gods, the man was killing him! Malen thought. His erection twitched painfully against
his zipper as Xilonen’s pink tongue, marked with teeth punctures, flitted out to lick at the
dried blood on his lips.
“Please. I need this. When you touch me, I can’t hear the voices anymore.”
Malen did moan then, as images of the night before filled his mind. Xilonen had tossed
and turned as he usually did but the soothing caresses of his mates hadn’t calmed him as
they had in the past. No. Stronger measures had been called for and their theory that sexual
arousal could be used as a tool to abate that particular power of Xilonen’s was proven
correct.
Throughout the night, Malen and Turek had taken turns, or worked together, to ease
their mate’s stress. At first, they’d thought bringing Xilonen to completion was necessary, but
that was time consuming and only managed to stem the restlessness for so long. Eventually,
they’d learnt that all it took was a few strokes, a gentle squeeze on their mate’s cock to settle
him down. It had been one of the most sensually gratifying experiences of his life, the only
damper being that Xilonen had remained unconscious until he’d awoken that morning.
Now he was awake and begging for them to once again ease his discomfort with
pleasure. The temptation was simply too great to resist. Malen grabbed a fistful of Xilonen’s
hair and pulled it back, breathing in the young man’s gasp and sucking in each of his lips.
The coppery taste of blood mixed with chocolate, a sweet they’d discovered lessened
Xilonen’s cravings for alcohol, titillated his taste buds and had them yearning for more.
Xilonen opened for him beautifully as Malen swept in, licking the open wounds on his
tongue and biting down hard enough to draw more blood. His mate’s muffled cry and rush
of excited energy was beyond intoxicating. When Xilonen’s arms lifted, he pulled back to see
Turek stripping the shirt from their mate, who then sank to his knees before Malen could
resume delivering torture to his sweet mouth.
Through long, dark lashes Xilonen gazed up at him, hands poised mere inches from the
button of Malen’s pants. “May I?”
Gods, yes! His cock wanted to claw through its denim covering to get at that succulent
mouth but he couldn’t rush this. Xilonen was relying on his control. “Take me out.”
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With trembling hands, his mate unfastened the button and pulled the zipper down.
Without the extra binding of underwear, Malen’s swollen member popped free, lightly
slapping the man on the cheek and leaving a thin trail of pre-cum.
Xilonen looked up again, uncertainty written in his eyes. “I’ve never done this before.”
If it were possible, his erection hardened even more at the nervous admission.
Turek got on his knees directly behind their mate and leaned in close to his ear while
running his hands up and down Xilonen’s bare chest. “It’s okay, beautiful. All you need to
do is listen to me. Do what I tell you. All right?” As their mate nodded, Turek found the
pebbled nubs on his chest and pinched them between his forefingers and thumbs.
“Yes!” Xilonen gasped.
A sinister smile played on Turek’s lips as his hands trailed down to the waistband of
their mate’s jeans. Malen watched the two men in fascination. He’d never felt the urge to
include another Dom in his sex life, let alone his love life, but this was like discovering a
fantasy he’d never known he had. Turek was bold, compelling, and he took charge like a
natural.
“Focus on the head for now. Slide your tongue around the ridge and taste him. Feel
how heavy he is.”
Placing a hand on each of Malen’s thighs for balance, Xilonen swirled his tongue
around the tip twice before encasing it in the silken heat of his mouth. Malen fisted his hands
in Xilonen’s hair, as much to anchor himself as a reminder to keep from plunging into that
scorching wetness. He felt the flick of a tongue across his slit then a strong vibration as
Xilonen moaned loudly. Turek had their mate’s cock wrapped in his tight grip and was
slowly stroking it from base to tip.
“That’s it. Now slide your lips down his shaft. Take him as deep as you can go then
suck him in as you’re coming back. Make him feel how much you need this.”
And Xilonen did exactly that. Inch by inch he worked his way down until he couldn’t
fit any more in. Malen wasn’t a small man by any means, but still his mate managed to take
all but a few inches without choking. On the way up, Xilonen’s cheeks hollowed and Malen’s
hips jerked forwards involuntarily at the incredible feel. Every nerve ending in his body was
attuned to the erotic exploration of his young mate.
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Turek quickened his strokes, returning his other hand to Xilonen’s nipples to roll and
pinch them with increasing pressure. Xilonen also sped up, squeezing mercilessly with his
lips and sucking harder with each pull.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Turek hissed. “Look up, baby. Look at what you’re doing to
him.”
The moment those clear blue eyes locked on to his, Malen couldn’t hold back any
longer. His hips surged forwards, driving the head of his cock to the back of Xilonen’s throat.
Again and again he plunged in until his mate gagged, unable to keep up.
Pulling away, he ordered, “On the bed.” Not bothering to wait for a response, he pulled
Xilonen’s pants off then scooped him up from the floor and tossed him onto the bed. At that
moment, he wanted nothing more than to take the man’s ass the way he’d taken his mouth,
but he was too far gone to be gentle. When the time came to take Xilonen’s virginity, he
wanted it to be a sensual affair, not a wild race to the finish.
Spinning Xilonen around so that he lay on his back with his head hanging over the edge
of the bed, he turned to Turek who was stepping out of his pants, shirt already off. “My turn,
love.” He kissed the man roughly, thoroughly, and felt his blood roar through his veins as
Turek relinquished control and surrendered to his will. The sudden change was what he
desired, even expected, but still it wreaked havoc on his senses. Knowing that Turek had it in
him to dominate another yet still offer his submission so completely gave him a rush of
power that was both heady and intoxicating.
“Stand over him. Feed him your cock while I get you ready.”
As soon as Turek positioned a leg on either side of their mate’s head, Xilonen greedily
swallowed the bobbing cock above his face. Malen pushed down on the back of Turek’s neck
and the man instinctively opened wide to take their mate’s long, slim shaft to the hilt.
Xilonen’s garbled shout was followed by a thrust of his hips, forcing Turek to hold him down
as he pumped his mouth up and down.
From the drawer of the nightstand Malen grabbed a bottle of lube and slicked his
throbbing member then his fingers. It didn’t take long to prepare Turek. Soon three fingers
were plunging in and out of his lover’s grasping entrance and the sounds of his moans
combined with Xilonen’s were driving him crazy with the need to join them in their pleasure.
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Lining himself up, he thrust into Turek in one swift lunge. It drove his mate forwards,
causing them both to take each other’s cocks as deep as they would go. Xilonen didn’t choke,
but neither could Malen hear the man breathe as he paused to relish the feel of Turek’s
clenching channel. He was tempted to stay there to see how far he could push both men but
testing Xilonen’s boundaries without knowing his limitations was too dangerous. Instead, he
clasped Turek’s tapered waist and yanked him back with each pummelling thrust of his hips.
Malen ravaged Turek’s hole, nearly overcome with sensation as he pounded into the
hot sheath, pegging the man’s prostate on every pass. The intensity of their combined energy
escalated to frantic heights and he could feel his orgasm build to a crescendo. Turek lifted his
mouth long enough to gasp, “Sir…”
Malen growled at the desperate note in his mate’s voice. Turek was begging permission
to come, and no doubt keeping Xilonen on the edge until that permission was granted. As
the first wave of his climax rolled through him, he drove himself even harder, deeper,
shouting, “Now!”
Turek’s tight muscles gripped him fiercely as the man grunted and shuddered beneath
him. Malen’s orgasm was drawn out in long, strangling pulls that milked every last drop
from him. The frenetic flow of energy around them ebbed to a calming haze of contentment
and only the puffs of hot breath tickling his ball sac brought him back to awareness. Easing
from his lover’s hole, he sat down on the floor, waited for Turek to slip to the side then
pulled Xilonen backwards from the bed and down into his lap.
His younger mate’s sleepy eyes met his and the emotions he saw in them humbled him.
There was gratitude above all, but also happiness. And maybe something more…
Or maybe it was just his overactive imagination.
“Thank you,” Xilonen whispered as he rested his head on Malen’s shoulder. Malen
kissed the crown of his head and gathered him closer. The warm weight of the man in his
arms, the feel of his smooth skin sliding against his, gave him a sense of fulfilment. It had
been so long since he’d taken the time to appreciate what he had, and Xilonen’s simple
presence was the greatest reminder.
Looking up, he saw Turek sitting opposite him, watching him with a small smile on his
lips. Suddenly, it became imperative that he let the man know just how important he was.
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Too often, Malen got caught up in the demands of life, taking for granted the anchor that
kept him grounded.
Turek sat forwards and gave him a light kiss. “I know. I love you too.”
Malen frowned. “I don’t tell you that often enough.” Guilt rode him as he realised he
couldn’t recall the last time he’d said it.
“You have your reasons. Besides, you show me all the time.” A peek under a lock of
hair that had fallen across their mate’s face showed them he was already out. “Guess this
means we’ll have to rely on Collen’s cooking.” Turek kissed Xilonen’s temple then sat back
again. “Which reminds me, did he say anything yet about how long he’ll be here? Not that
I’m complaining, and neither is Shayne. Kid’s got a crush on him that would put a schoolgirl
to shame.”
“Yeah, I’d say his hormones have definitely kicked in, but Collen doesn’t seem to mind.
I was going to ask him if he could loan out his house to some friends while he stayed here for
a while longer.” At Turek’s questioning expression, he said, “I’m hoping I can convince Jace
and his mates to come down here. Xilonen needs to learn how to control his power on his
own and Jace’s ability to control his energy can’t be much different. Even if Jace can’t help
him tune out the thoughts, it’ll still be worth a try. I was thinking they could stay at Collen’s
house since it’s close.”
Turek nodded. “Sounds good.” After a pause, a slow grin curved his mouth. “You’re
not going to tell Xilonen until they get here, are you?”
“I see no reason for him to get worked up over nothing. Jace doesn’t hate him.” He
didn’t exactly like him either, but then Jace didn’t know the whole story yet. Malen would
clear the air before his friends arrived and Xilonen would see that there was nothing to worry
about.
He hoped.
“Coward,” Turek snickered.
Malen looked down at the precious cargo in his lap. The man was smaller than average,
young, innocent in so many ways…and packed with an attitude that could drive a person
crazy. Looking back at Turek, he replied, “Damn straight.”
* * * *
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There were many things he despised in life. The colour pink on a sixty-six Mustang
convertible. Stupid people. Annoying dogs that were small enough to break if you stepped
on them yet mean enough to gnaw your balls off if you trespassed into their territory. None
of these, however, had induced the kind of love-hate relationship he was dealing with now.
Xilonen flushed the toilet but stayed where he was, keeping one hand on his semi-erect
cock. It wouldn’t deflate any time soon. It wouldn’t be given the chance. For refusing to
admit that the voices had become too much for him to handle on his own, Malen and Turek
had devised a punishment that they claimed would help him and teach him a lesson at the
same time. It wasn’t at all what he’d expected but worked like a charm, much to his chagrin.
Over the past four days, his mates had taken more liberties with his body than he’d
taken with it in the past twenty-one years—fondling it, exploring it, and keeping him in a
constant state of arousal heightened enough to keep the voices at bay but never quite enough
to bring him to orgasm. They were ruthless in their control, demanding his obedience and
surrender of everything. Up to and including personal choices he’d once taken for granted.
He hated that he loved it all.
It still felt strange and more than a little terrifying that it was so easy to fall under their
dominance. But for the first time in his life he felt free—free from the strain of taking sole
responsibility for his life, his brother’s, and the whole of his race, which would be
devastatingly altered if he allowed his mother to carry out her plans. Instead of shunning
him, his mates had accepted him, with domineering pleasure he couldn’t get enough of.
Each night, he was permitted to come once under their masterful ministrations but that
was little consolation during the long hours of the day. Holding his breath, he listened for the
sounds of his mate in the bedroom through the open bathroom door. Turek was still in the
walk-in closet, choosing what Xilonen would wear for the day.
It would only take a minute, maybe two. Xilonen spat into his hand then began to
stroke his cock. Blood rushed down to engorge it almost instantly, spurred on by the spike of
adrenalin flooding his veins. Masturbation had been expressly forbidden to him. His mates
enjoyed having supreme power over his pleasure as much as he enjoyed giving it to them,
but one little transgression couldn’t hurt. Could it?
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Images of the night before popped into his mind. Turek had found a pair of leather
wrist cuffs with D-rings Malen had bought for him a while back and used on occasions.
Strapping them on and attaching each one to a rope tied to either side of the headboard,
Turek had then taken his time in torturing him. Xilonen could still feel the heat of his tongue
licking every curve and crevice of his body. The sting of teeth on his sensitive nipples.
All the while, he’d kept his gaze locked with Malen’s who’d stood to the side, pumping
his erection while he watched them with lust-filled eyes. Xilonen had never been drawn to
exhibitionism, but the effect he had on his huge mate was the most erotic thing he’d ever
seen.
Smearing the leaking drops of pre-cum over his throbbing shaft, he stroked harder. His
breath came faster as he recalled Malen’s deep voice directing Turek to take Xilonen’s cock
into his mouth. Malen had then straddled Xilonen’s chest, easing his own member into
Xilonen’s waiting mouth.
This time, Malen had instructed Turek on what to do. There had been no mercy as
Turek had obediently bathed his quivering entrance then breached it with one finger at a
time until Xilonen was bucking his hips, trying to drive them deeper. He’d been nearly
delirious from the overload of sensations when Malen had finally given him the command to
come.
“Oh fuck!” he moaned. His balls drew in tight as the rush of his orgasm shot through
him. Without warning, two hands whipped around from behind, one tugging on his ball sac
while the other snatched at the hand he was pumping with. Unable to stop his release, he
watched, trembling and gasping, as his seed spurted onto the underside of the toilet seat. The
pleasure was muted and he groaned at the loss of his momentum.
Turek held him in silence as his body shook and spent itself. The shock of getting
caught—along with blistering shame—coursed through him like wildfire. Slowly, Turek
turned him around, lifting his chin when he sought to hide from the disapproval on his
mate’s face.
“Let me guess, it jumped into your hand and took over.”
If the ground had opened up and swallowed him right then, it wouldn’t have been soon
enough. “I’m sorry. I thought…” …you’d be longer. Xilonen kept that last part to himself.
Somehow, honesty just didn’t seem like the brightest idea at that moment.
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“It’s okay. When Malen banned me from masturbating shortly after we met, I cheated a
few times, too.”
“So you’re not going to tell him?”
“Hell, yeah, I am. I didn’t say I got away with it. If I had to suffer, so do you.” Turek
chuckled at his grimace. “Come on. Your clothes are on the bed.”
Xilonen quickly wiped down the toilet seat then, head hanging in embarrassment,
followed his mate to the bedroom. His mood lightened when he saw the outfit Turek had
chosen. Black Tripp pants with chains and a black, skin-tight T-shirt with a white skull on the
front. His mates had increased the size of his three outfit collection without his knowledge,
and each day he was presented with a new set of clothes that suited his goth style perfectly.
He would change his style if they asked it of him, but they didn’t. In fact, he could feel a
sense of satisfaction in their energy every time he modelled an outfit they’d bought for him.
While getting dressed, he tentatively asked, “Is it all right if I ask Collen to pick me up some
makeup the next time he goes into town?”
“Makeup?”
Xilonen blushed, glancing away nervously. “Yeah. I kinda like to wear black eyeliner,
mascara, nail polish. I mean, I know it’s stupid but—”
“Stop right there,” Turek said in a hard tone. “Just because it’s different doesn’t mean
it’s stupid. If you hadn’t noticed, Malen and I like the goth look on you. If makeup adds to
the effect, I can’t wait to see it on you. Make sure to put red hair dye on the list before you
give it to Collen, though.”
Xilonen grinned from ear to ear. “Thank you.” Lifting his arms and spinning in a circle,
he asked, “So, what do you think?”
His mate frowned. “Nice, but I think we can make it a little better.” From the drawer of
the nightstand, he withdrew the wide cuffs he’d used last night and fastened them on to
Xilonen’s wrists. “Now you’re done. Until Malen and I decide your punishment, these will
remind you to keep your hands above waist level. If not, I can always secure them behind
your back with a clamp.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Turek merely grinned down at him sadistically.
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Yes. He would. Xilonen felt his cock harden as if he hadn’t just released all of his sexual
frustration. His cheeks grew hotter as Turek eyed the bulge in his crotch then chuckled.
“Finish getting dressed. We have company.”
Following the direction of the man’s pointing finger, he noticed his jacket hanging from
the closet doorknob, his boots stacked just below it. “We’re going out?”
“Only to the backyard. You have a friend who wants to see you.”
Xilonen frowned in puzzlement and peered out of the bedroom window to the grounds
below. A man was sitting on a smoothed tree trunk, casually examining the forestry around
him. Blond hair cut just above the neckline gleamed in the sunlight streaming down on him.
His small frame couldn’t have been much bigger than Xilonen’s, yet the pride evident in the
way he held himself more than made up for what he lacked in size.
Xilonen backed away from the window as recognition flooded in. “He’s not my friend.”
Turek’s face softened. “We don’t always get to choose who our friends are. That man
out there owes you his life. Jace has been helping Malen and I search for you but he wants to
do more. This is his chance.”
“I betrayed him.”
“You freed him. If you hadn’t distracted Mikel and allowed him to escape, he’d
probably still be a prisoner. We both know Mikel would have taken him and run.”
Xilonen shook his head. The words made sense, but that wasn’t the way he saw it. What
Xilonen had done—endangering the lives of Jace’s mates and sabotaging the lives of others—
was unforgiveable. He’d do it all again if it meant keeping Shayne, Turek and Malen safe, but
that didn’t make it right.
“He owes me nothing but his hatred. It’s what I deserve and I’m fine with that.”
A few strides brought Turek to within arm’s reach and the man ran the back of his
knuckles down Xilonen’s cheek. “He’s not here to dwell on the past, beautiful. He’s here to
help you learn to control your power.”
“What?”
“The punishment Malen and I designed for you has become a necessity. Arousal seems
to be the only thing that represses the thoughts of the Gods, and then only for a few hours at
a time. You’re relying on us for your sanity—giving up one addiction for another.”
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Pain constricted his chest until his lungs burned for precious air. “I thought… I thought
you liked what we did.”
“I do.”
He silently cursed himself for his foolishness as realisation set in. He’d fallen too hard,
too fast. He didn’t have much—any—previous experience with relationships, but he knew
what he wanted…a strong partner to guide and support him. Turek and Malen had made
themselves into what he needed when all he’d done for them was offer his submission in
return. Hardly a fair trade.
“I can be dominant for you. I can be strong for you and Malen.”
“Xilonen—”
“I’m not as weak as you think I am.” Bringing their bodies together, he grabbed on to
Turek’s waist and pressed himself into the man’s hard body.
“Stop.”
“I’ll try harder—”
“Enough!” Turek grasped the base of his skull, tightening his hands in Xilonen’s hair. “I
don’t want you to change. I love the way you let me handle you. The way you look when
you submit. I love…you.”
Xilonen’s breath hitched at the pure honesty shining from his mate’s eyes.
Turek wrapped him in a fierce hug. “There’s nothing wrong with depending on us to
take care of you, but you have to be able to stand on your own as well.”
In utter confusion, Xilonen shook his head again. “I don’t understand.”
His mate sighed heavily and led him to the foot of the bed. “I know. It wasn’t an easy
lesson for me to learn either.” Running a hand through his tousled waves, Turek angled
himself to face Xilonen. “I discovered I was submissive at a young age. My family had just
come to terms with the fact that I was gay, but the idea that I could give another man the
power to control me was too much for them. They gave me the choice to either ‘be a man’,” he
said sarcastically, “or leave. I chose to be a man…and left.”
Turek grinned and Xilonen smiled back. There was an echo of residual pain in the
man’s energy, and Xilonen thought it was something that would probably never fade with
time.
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“I was headstrong and naïve, determined to find a Dom I could love and please.
Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. One night at a club, I met a Keeper named
Oremond. He was part of a gang of bikers. They weren’t like the family Malen and I used to
belong to. These men were rough—modern-day outlaws—and Oremond was their leader. I
knew I shouldn’t have gotten involved with him, but he was everything I thought I wanted
at the time. Handsome, strict, dominant…but also fun. He kept me away from his illegal
dealings, which suited me just fine.
“I gave him all that I had in return, or at least I thought I did. After a while, though, it
seemed like the more I gave, the more he took, until it wasn’t a power exchange anymore. I
was losing myself, and it scared the shit out of me.”
Turek paused. When he spoke again, his voice was distant. “When I tried to leave, he
got angry. I never realised how many freedoms I’d still had until they were taken away. For
years I was nothing more than his property. Which, for some, can be very satisfying with the
right Master, but it wasn’t for me. And Oremond was no Master. He started taking me with
him on his business runs. It was during one of them that we ran into Malen…or, rather,
Malen and his convoy found us. Oremond had chosen the wrong Keepers to threaten that
time.”
“Did Malen kill them?”
Roused from the memory, Turek smiled and twisted a lock of Xilonen’s hair around one
finger. “He wanted to. They all wanted to. But he knew I was his mate so they held back until
they could get me out safely. Even then, it wasn’t pretty. There were a lot of casualties, a few
deaths. Collen took a bullet for me and Malen should’ve been laid up for days if he’d listened
to his doctor, but instead he took care of me. Taught me how to find my strengths and limits
and how to submit without sacrificing my independence.”
Xilonen stared in awe as his mate cupped his chin.
“You have more strength than I’ve ever possessed in my century of existence, but
you’ve never had independence. Partly due to your parents, and partly to your power. Malen
and I need to know that you’re relying on us as mates, and not on our ability to distract you
from the voices.”
Xilonen hid his conflicting emotions behind lowered lids and chewed on his bottom lip,
tonguing the hoop that pierced it. The man was hitting both ends of the spectrum with the
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point he was trying to make. That Xilonen needed a permanent solution to the control of his
power was fathomable, but he was utterly mistaken if he thought it was strength that
motivated Xilonen’s actions. Fear, cowardice, and definitely a strong dose of desperation
thrown in for good measure pretty much made the cake…but strength? Hardly.
“So you think he can teach me how to control the voices like he can control his energy?”
“I do.”
“And his mates?”
“They’re with Collen, Shayne and Malen at Collen’s house right now. They’ll be joining
us shortly.”
“Is Shayne—?”
“He’s safe with them, although he’s really getting upset about being left in the dark.
You’ve got to tell him what’s going on soon.”
Xilonen tamped down his uneasiness and nodded. He’d tried to push his mates away
for fear of rejection but he couldn’t do the same with Shayne. He was going to have to come
clean eventually and face the consequences. “I guess I’ll go meet with Jace before they get
back.”
Turek smiled his confidence but Xilonen couldn’t bring himself to return the gesture.
Once he’d donned his boots and jacket, he grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the closet then
followed his mate downstairs. He rarely smoked anymore but had a feeling nicotine would
be needed for this next conversation. Turek left him at the backdoor with a kiss and an
encouraging pat on the rump.
As Xilonen faced his visitor, he braced himself for the memories the sight of the man
was sure to invoke, but they never came. This wasn’t the same man he’d once feared would
break again under Mikel’s harsh attentions. Gone was the evidence of enforced slavery and
years of torture. In its place was a glow that could only come from true happiness. Jace
seemed alight with a subtle confidence that said he’d come to terms with his past and place
in the world. His blue-hazel eyes were bright and his slim body was defined with toned
muscles. A far cry from the gauntness of his former self.
Jace approached him slowly, coming to a stop a few yards away. They stood staring at
each other for what could have been hours for all the uncomfortable silence stretching
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between them. This was a mistake. He could see it in the other man’s narrowed gaze and
pursed lips.
“I’ll tell them you tried,” Xilonen said, backing up to the door. “I’ll say I refused your
help.”
“Wait.” Jace scrubbed at his eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just that seeing you brought back
memories I wasn’t prepared for. That’s not your fault.”
“Not yours either. I’ll go get Turek.”
“No. Please stay.”
Xilonen paused with one hand on the glass door handle.
“Your mates told me about what was really going on. Why you made the choices you
did. I think I would have understood your position if you’d explained it to me.” Jace raised
his hand to stave off Xilonen’s retort. “But I know why you didn’t. You had no reason to trust
me, or any of us. We all have people in our lives that we’d risk anything for.”
“I didn’t want those guards at the Vishian to die, but I wouldn’t change a thing if it
meant keeping my brother safe.” It may have come across as heartless, but it had to be said.
“And I wouldn’t respect you if you did.”
Xilonen frowned, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”
Jace’s smile seemed to release some of the tension between them. “I can’t blame you for
something I would have done in your place. Had it been my mom or my mates on the line,
I’d have done whatever was necessary to keep them safe. We’re more alike than you think.”
With a snort of derision, he countered, “Hardly. All I managed to do was get a bounty
on my head that’s putting everyone I love in danger.” The other man’s smile spread
significantly and Xilonen realised his slip. “I meant I love my brother.”
“And your mates.”
Xilonen narrowed his eyes at the man’s smugness. “So what if I do? Are you here to
watch me betray them like I did you?”
Jace’s smile faltered, but his expression remained free of enmity. “I was wrong to say
that you didn’t deserve to have mates. I can see that now. If what you told them about Night
is true, then she’s going to throw everything she can think of against you, just like she did to
me. We can win this fight, but you have to trust me.”
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Trusting Jace wasn’t the problem. It was the fact that Jace was willing to trust him that
he couldn’t understand.
Xilonen took a deep breath, dropped his hand from the handle and dipped his head in
assent. “Where do we start?”
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Chapter Six
“Anything is possible when you have no other choice.”
Xilonen focused on the soothing monotone of the words that were his lifeline amid the chaos in
his mind. They gave him courage despite their grim connotations. With practiced effort, he disengaged
his conscious from the others so that he could gaze out upon the sea of thoughts that continually
plagued him. One by one they were sorted by level of intensity, like notches on the dial of a volume
control knob. The higher frequencies were placed at the top, gradually scaling down to those that
created barely a hum of mental static.
It was at the bottom-most level that he started, with the memory behind his first tattoos. His
father’s tall, lanky figure loomed above him in the cold darkness of the basement. The cloying stench of
blood, sweat and earth clung to the man, letting Xilonen know that the body of the stranger he’d
unwittingly killed had been disposed of. Trails of fire bloomed across his exposed flesh with each strike
of the doubled-over leather belt his father used like a whip. Only this time, the wide buckle had slipped
free of the hand that held it, tearing into his skin until his body was awash in flames.
“We become what we have to be.”
To each of the six, after-hour tattoo sessions it had taken to cover the evidence of his father’s rage,
he attached a level of intensity. He imagined the voices being smothered by the cleansing vibrations of
the tattoo gun. Slowly, the volume was turned down, notch by notch, tattoo by tattoo.
Skimming over the years and the plethora of scars and body art that had followed, he came to the
memory of his last tattoo. The first time his mother had physically touched him since the day of his
birth. Blue sparks flickering on the tips of her fingers, attesting to her fury, had singed his arms and
neck but her touch hadn’t lasted long. The vicious lashes of the cane she’d used on his back, however,
had.
For days, she’d punished him for the murder of his father, battering his self-worth with curses
and threats. But the knowledge that his brother was safe had kept him from the edge of despair.
“Survival is not about the strength we display in battle, but rather our ability to endure
the pain of the moment.”
His back had been a mass of lacerated, disfigured flesh, and the sessions the most painful he’d had
to endure in his life. Once more, he used the stinging strokes of the tattoo gun to stifle the clamorous
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tides of voices. Just as the beauty of the eagle on his back had come to life with each session, the
thoughts of the Gods were muted to a low-key volume that was within his ability to control.
“For even the strongest man will fall if his heart is weak.”
All that remained now were the highest levels of intensity—the loudest voices of the Gods that
would send his mind spiralling in a whirlwind of fractured turmoil if he failed to overcome them. For
these, he dredged up a memory that matched them in its extremity.
In the guise of his shadow form, he’d felt the vibrancy of his mates’ energy calling out to him
along the subtle currents of the night. They were there with their friends, Loken and Cyaan, in Mikel’s
compound. Unaware of and unprepared for the vastness of Mikel’s army. Happiness over seeing them
again had competed with fear. One mistake on the parts of his mates or the men with them and Mikel’s
followers would have shot them on sight.
He’d had to alert Mikel to their presence. It was the only way he could ensure they would be kept
alive until Loken used the mental link with his twin to bring in reinforcements.
The shock and betrayal on Turek and Malen’s faces and in their energy had nearly ripped him
apart with shame. As the stolen blade Jace had thrown at him pierced his biceps, he’d wished it had
pierced his heart. Death would have been welcomed, but that hadn’t been his fate.
There’d been no time to cover up the scar with a tattoo once he’d returned home to collect his
brother and run, so Xilonen used the memory of the cauterisation to drive back the strongest of the
voices. Mikel had personally pressed a heated blade to his wound, stanching the flow of blood to ensure
that Xilonen didn’t bleed out. The pain had been unbearable, surpassing his tolerance threshold and
plunging him into a torrent of agony.
“We suffer, we survive, we fight back—because anything less is not an option.”
Xilonen delved inside himself for the courage that had allowed him to endure the pain of that day
and the loneliness of the months that had followed. Using it now, he forced back the voices until they
were no more than echoes of their former, overwhelming volume. The final step was to lock away the
memories. In a separate compartment of his mind, he stored them away to bring out when he would
need them again.
When he opened his eyes, Jace’s worried expression came into view. Xilonen offered
him a weak smile. The thoughts were dampened, but the strain of the exercise had taken its
toll.
“How are you feeling?” Jace asked.
“Like someone injected liquid fire into my skull…but, sadly, better.”
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The other man chuckled and leant back on his hands, stretching his legs out in front of
him on the cool grass. The snow had receded to the dense vegetation along the outer edges of
his mates’ property, enabling him and Jace to conduct their meetings in relative privacy and
comfort. On the other side of the cabin in the front yard, a mixture of laughter, colourful
insults and epithets floated on the air in rich baritones. Shayne’s youthful tenor could also be
heard, making Xilonen smile through his headache.
“It’ll get easier with time, I promise. Soon you won’t have to rely on the worst of your
memories to give you strength. It’ll come naturally…and probably around the same time you
accept the bond you have with your mates.”
Xilonen frowned at Jace. “What are you talking about? I have accepted them as mates.
I’m here, aren’t I?”
“I think you know as well as I do that living with your mates isn’t the same as bonding
with them,” Jace said gently. “It’s just like a human marriage. There has to be love for each
partner to truly benefit from the relationship.”
“We have love.” At least he hoped that’s what he felt from his mates when they were
near. Turek had only said the words once, and Malen not at all, but they showed it every
time they held and kissed him. That had to account for something, didn’t it?
Jace appraised him with a critical gaze. “Then why haven’t you told them yet? I know
why they haven’t. They’re still afraid of pushing you away—that you’re not ready yet—but
what’s your excuse?” In a tone full of patient concern, Jace asked, “What are you still hiding
from, Z?”
The use of his nickname had Xilonen biting back a caustic retort at the intrusive
question. In the week since Jace and his mates had arrived, the man had somehow charmed
his way past Xilonen’s grudging reluctance and become the friend he’d claimed to have been
from the start. It was impossible to remain impervious to Jace’s easy-going attitude. His
perceptiveness, on the other hand, could be downright annoying at times.
“What do you do? Sit around with my mates while I’m not there and discuss your love
lives like a bunch of old hens?”
Jace merely raised a brow and smiled, not in the least intimidated by his surly attitude.
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“I’m not hiding anything. And how can they think I’m not ready yet? I’ve stopped
drinking and smoking and I’m almost completely off the drugs. I could even…” Xilonen
faltered, his face heating with what he’d been about to divulge.
“Could what?” Jace prompted.
Scrubbing the sweat from his hands onto his pants, he blew out a breath and looked
around to make sure they were alone.
“I could have sex with them, if they wanted to. I mean, we do things, but we’ve never
actually had sex.” At least not in the form he’d been craving for days now. Xilonen let his
eyes wander from Jace’s blue-hazel gaze. “Maybe they think I’m not ready because of what
happened to me when I was younger.” He shrugged uncomfortably.
The blond shook his head. “No. I’m guessing it might have something to do with the
fact that they think you’re still a virgin.”
Xilonen’s head snapped back to face Jace. “What? How would they…? Shayne,” he
growled. “I swear I’m going to sew that boy’s lips shut. If that’s all it is, then I’ll just tell them
it doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t it? Especially considering the fact that you’re not a virgin? You may not have
told them yet, but I can guarantee they’re picking up on it.”
Xilonen felt himself start to shake. Images threatened to surge forth from his nightmares
and swallow him whole but he shoved them out of his conscious. “We should go inside. It’s
getting late.” His friend grabbed his arm as he moved to rise.
“Hang on. I shouldn’t have said that. Please sit back down.” Jace’s hand lingered for a
minute while Xilonen hesitantly lowered himself to the ground again. “Sorry about that.
You’re making such great progress, sometimes I have to remind myself how hard this must
be on you. I should know more than anyone that a person shouldn’t be pushed to their limits
until they’re ready. Forgive me?”
Jace threw him a disarming smile that calmed him, as it always did. The man was
irresistible when he turned on the full weight of his personality. “Sure. Damn, you must get
away with all kinds of crap with that smile.”
Jace snorted then plucked at the nails on Xilonen’s fingers. “Says the twink wearing
black nail polish. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your mates’ reactions when you bat those
mascara-covered lashes at them. You probably get away with more than I do.”
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“Hey, they like my makeup.”
“And it looks damn good on you.” Jace’s voice lowered an octave, a jolt of attraction
shimmering through his energy.
Xilonen laughed, knowing nothing would happen between them, but flattered all the
same. They fell into a companionable silence, listening to the sounds of their friends and
families. A feeling of peace settled over Xilonen as the last vestiges of the headache from his
practice session receded. The voices would remain at a low hum throughout the day and his
mates would ensure that they didn’t return during the night.
Life was good. There were still a lot of problems he had to work through, but he was no
longer afraid to face them.
“So, you can blow shit up, huh?”
Xilonen slanted his gaze back to his friend. “Something like that.”
“Loken and Cyaan told me about the night you killed the engines in their cars, along
with everyone else’s, and every plane in the nearest airport. That’s pretty impressive.”
Wincing at the reminder, Xilonen said, “Yeah, I meant to apologise for that.”
“Why? You kept every Keeper there alive. Those idiots should be thanking you, not
gunning for your head.”
Not knowing what to say, Xilonen looked away, picking at the grass to his side.
“I don’t suppose you had anything to do with all those little things that went wrong in
Mikel’s camp, did you?”
Xilonen’s lips quirked up in a mischievous grin. “Now why would I wanna go and piss
off a demented halfling?”
Jace burst out laughing. “You sly little twink. I knew it was you. Well, not at the time,
but it wasn’t hard to figure out later. Did he ever find out it was you?”
Xilonen recalled the numerous times he’d used his power to set off alarms, cause small
explosions that broke pipe veins, disabled critical pieces of equipment. Anything that would
demand Mikel’s immediate attention. The half-God could never prove it was him, but that
hadn’t stopped Mikel from taking his frustration out on Xilonen anyway. He hadn’t minded
the beatings, though. He’d go through it all again if necessary.
“I don’t know. It was worth it, though.”
“Worth the risk of his temper?”
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“No. Worth distracting him from you.”
Jace’s only response was to gape at him, eyes wide with disbelief. Several seconds
passed and Xilonen began to fidget under his friend’s transfixed stare.
“I remember…all those times when he was too exhausted to touch me. Accidents kept
happening and he couldn’t afford to just let his men handle them. You did all that to keep
him away from me?”
Xilonen shifted nervously then nodded slowly, and in the next breath was pulled into a
crushing hug.
“Thank you,” Jace whispered into his hair.
Those two words held a wealth of emotion that came rushing at Xilonen in waves from
the man’s energy. Gratitude poured into him, washing away his anxiety. Wrapping his arms
around his friend, he squeezed back. “You’re welcome.”
When Jace pulled away, his brow furrowed as if in thought. “It’s too bad you didn’t use
your power to kill the engine of the plane we rode in to Alaska.”
Before he could think better of it, Xilonen said, “It wouldn’t have made a difference.
Mikel’s men were already at the Vishian and it would have been too dangerous to create an
electrical shortage while we were in flight. Since you wouldn’t take the pills I offered, I had
to come up with a different distraction.”
He realised his mistake as soon as the words had left his mouth. Jace stared at him
again, slack-jawed, but this time there was horror clearly written in every line of his face.
Xilonen wanted to take it back, erase his moment of grand stupidity, but his mind was
drawing a blank. The sacrifice he’d made had been the one secret he’d never meant to
reveal…to anyone.
“You were a virgin then, weren’t you?”
“Drop it. Forget I said anything.”
“The fuck I will. Are you saying you deliberately provoked Mikel just to keep me safe?”
Xilonen stood and backed up a step but Jace only followed him.
“Let it go,” he ground out. The memory began to penetrate his thoughts and he tried
desperately to force it away.
“He raped you. They all did. I may not have seen it but I could feel your pain. Why
would you go and do something so stupid?”
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“Because I didn’t think you could handle what Mikel wanted to do to you!” Xilonen
shouted, his own rage clashing against Jace’s. “You were half-dead from the beating he gave
you.”
“I’d been handling that asshole for five years!” Jace yelled back. “It wasn’t up to you to
decide what I could or couldn’t handle.”
Xilonen was trembling with humiliation and anger. Distantly, he knew Jace had a right
to his rage. If Shayne had ever sacrificed a part of himself for Xilonen’s safety, Xilonen would
have been just as furious, if not more. The images he’d tried so hard to banish rose
mercilessly to the surface. Mikel glaring down at him through black, soulless eyes. Faces
filled with sickening lust and hands stretching him out on the hard surface of the desk.
He had to get away. The voices were growing in volume with the loss of his control, but
it was the memory of Mikel’s voice inside his head that he feared would take his sanity.
He needed his drugs. Screw what everyone else thought.
* * * *
Turek watched the ball wobble through the air a good foot over Shayne’s raised hands
and into the trees lining the driveway. The kid cast Cyaan a disgusted look before running to
retrieve the ball.
“You’re as bad as he is,” Shayne accused Cyaan while pointing a finger at Collen. “How
can you know how to throw a knife and not know how to throw a ball?”
“Because me and sharp, pointy objects go well together. We’ve created a mutually
satisfying relationship built on trust and respect. That round thing does nothing for me,”
Cyaan shot back. “Now quit your bitching and throw the ball.”
“Are you sure? Maybe we should switch to a plastic tee-ball or something. I wouldn’t
want you to strain yourself with a heavy football in your old age,” Shayne snickered.
“That’s it. Come here, brat.”
Cyaan took a few steps towards Shayne but stopped when Collen held up one hand.
“Stand down, old one. I’ll take care of this.” Ignoring Cyaan’s indignant glare, Collen turned
to the kid. “One more smart-ass comment out of you, pipsqueak, and it’s back to the books I
got you.”
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Turek chuckled as Shayne grumbled something nasty about homework. Leaning back
on the steps of the front porch, he was struck again by how lucky they were to have such
good friends willing to come to the aid of their mate. Loken and Cyaan were both warriors,
almost identical in build and beauty, with fiercely loyal personalities to match. Both wore
black leathers and an aura of calculated authority that clung to them like a second skin. The
only noticeable difference in the men was their hair. One had white-blond locks pulled back
in a long braid while the other wore his black tresses loosely to his shoulders.
Their mate, Jace, was a lot smaller and more laid-back in comparison—their submissive
counterpart.
The sudden sounds of angry shouts jerked his attention away from the men in the yard.
“Is that…?” Collen started.
Turek spared a glance at Malen long enough to find his concern mirrored on his mate’s
face. “Collen, get Shayne inside!” At a dead run, he took off around the cabin, prepared to
fight whoever dared threaten the two men in the backyard. Surprise brought him up short, as
well as Malen, Loken and Cyaan.
With approximately two feet of distance between them, Jace and Xilonen were engaged
in what appeared to be a heated shouting match. Their fists were clenched at their sides and
the occasional finger was pointed at the other in what he assumed was accusation. The words
they flung at each other were couched in vagueness with no references as to what they were
arguing about. So engrossed were they that neither took the time to notice Malen and Cyaan
advancing on them.
“What’s going on?” Malen shouted over them.
“Nothing!” That from both Jace and Xilonen, who resumed their argument without
skipping a beat.
Stepping in front of Malen and Cyaan, Turek reached out to his young mate. “Xilonen,
calm down.” His lover jerked away from his touch. Deep blue eyes wild with anger and
fright shifted back and forth between him and Jace, but it was the utter lack of recognition in
them that chilled Turek to the core of his being. It was as if Xilonen was captured in a waking
nightmare.
“Jace, what’s wrong?” The other man jumped at Cyaan’s touch but recovered quickly,
leaning into the support of his mate.
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Eyes trained on Xilonen, Jace answered, “He did a lot more than just keep us alive.”
“Shut up,” Xilonen hissed.
“He gave up something he shouldn’t have. Something he should have kept for his
mates. Instead, he sacrificed it to protect me.”
“I made the decision,” Xilonen countered in a hoarse voice. “You were too weak
whether you want to admit it or not.”
“Mikel was mine to deal with!”
“He was killing you inside! You think I don’t know what that feels like?”
Malen reached for Xilonen this time but their mate stumbled farther away. “I can’t do
this,” he whispered. Xilonen yanked open the back door and staggered into the cabin like a
drunk. Malen trailed behind, arms extended to catch their mate should he fall. Turek looked
back to find Jace held tightly in Cyaan’s embrace, an expression of confused anger contorting
his features.
“See to your boy. We’ve got ours,” Loken said, dipping his head towards the door.
Turek nodded grimly then left them to tend their mate. Inside, he caught the sight of
Xilonen’s boots disappearing up the stairs with Malen close on his heels, gesturing behind
his back for Collen and Shayne to stay put.
Shayne tried to run after them but was brought to a halt by Collen. “What happened? Is
he all right?”
Turek shook his head. “I don’t know. Stay here. Let us get him calmed down.”
“But I can help. I can take some of his energy.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.” Whatever was going on with Xilonen was
connected to Mikel and the last thing they needed was for Shayne to gain bits of information
before his brother could give him the whole truth. “I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon
as I can.”
Turek bolted up the stairs, not slowing until he found his mates in their bedroom.
Malen knelt facing the wall on the other side of the room. His arms were raised loosely to his
sides, palms facing forwards as though to ward something off, or cage something in.
Fear clawed its way through Turek’s chest as he raced across the room. Xilonen was
sitting against the wall with his arms held awkwardly behind his back, head bowed and
knees pulled up tightly to his chest. The fall of his hair hid his face completely and it wasn’t
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until Turek crouched down that he noticed the black, leather cuffs restraining their mate’s
wrists.
“What’s going on?”
Malen sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “He tried to get to his drug supply. I
took it away but every time I try to touch him, he fights me. The cuffs are only on to keep
him from hurting himself.”
Xilonen began to mumble, though his voice was too low to make out the words.
“I think whatever happened between him and Jace broke his concentration and he lost
control over his power, only it’s worse this time. He looks at me but he doesn’t see me.”
“We can help him get it back under control. We’ve done it before.”
“He let us touch him before.”
Turek frowned, scrambling his brain for some way to get through to their mate. Inching
forwards, he slowly extended a hand to Xilonen’s head.
“Careful, baby,” Malen warned.
As his fingers made contact, Xilonen jerked his head up, a snarl twisting his lips. “Easy,
beautiful. I’m not gonna—” Before he could finish, his mate groaned loudly then banged the
back of his skull viciously into the wall. Over and over, he slammed his head until Turek was
forced to grasp it in a firm hold. Xilonen tried thrashing his head from side to side and Turek
was afraid he’d unintentionally rip out the man’s hair in an effort to keep him still.
“Enough! Look at me. You’re safe.” Turek used the advantage of his height, tilting
Xilonen’s head back so that he had no choice but to look up. Blood-shot, crystal blue eyes
stared up through a glassy sheen of moisture but not a single tear fell. Turek glimpsed a
spark of clarity and latched on to it with a death-grip. “Tell me what’s going on, beautiful.
What happened?”
Xilonen blinked in confusion, his eyes clouding over but Turek refused to lose his grip.
“Stay with me. What were you and Jace talking about? Why did Mikel’s name come up?”
His mate groaned again but made no move to escape. “I can still hear him in my head.
He’s loud. Louder than the others. I had no choice. He was going to mutilate him. Make him
ugly. I had to do something.”
The anguish in Xilonen’s voice tore at his heart. “Who can you hear, baby?”
“I’m not a virgin. I went willingly to Mikel. There was no other way.”
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Turek’s mouth went dry, the room suddenly spinning around him with nauseating
speed. His numb fingers tugged sharply at Xilonen’s hair as he fell back on his ass but his
mate didn’t even wince. The feel of Malen’s warm body behind him lent support but he
barely noticed.
“You need to tell us everything, sweetheart. Can you do that?” Malen asked
Xilonen’s breathing grew shallow. Beads of sweat trickled down his pale face, ruining
his eyeliner. “Jace thought things would return to normal with Mikel when he went back, but
he was wrong. He didn’t know. I could hear Mikel’s thoughts. He was going to disfigure Jace
on the plane. Make him so ugly that no one else would want him. I t-tried to give Jace pills
that would knock him out and stall Mikel’s plans, but Jace wouldn’t take them. So I…”
Xilonen swallowed audibly. “I deliberately provoked the bastard. I had to do something that
would distract him for the entire flight.”
Turek’s stomach lurched violently as bile ate at the back of his throat. “You took his
place. You gave up your virginity to Mikel in order to protect Jace, didn’t you?”
Xilonen shook his head and winced at the movement. The pain bleeding out through
his energy was like a thick fog that coiled around them all. “I gave myself to all of them on
the plane except for Jace and one other. Jace was the only one the bastard wouldn’t share,”
Xilonen whispered.
“Oh, Gods.” Unable to push anything else past his constricted throat, he once more
leaned forwards to embrace his mate but Xilonen flinched away from his touch, emitting a
small cry.
“Turek, go see if Jace is still here. Our mate needs him.” Malen gently nudged him aside
then moved closer to Xilonen, ghosting a hand over the man’s bowed head.
“The last thing he needs is to see is that ungrateful—” Turek was cut off by Malen’s
stare.
“If you found out that I’d sacrificed myself for you like Xilonen did for Jace, what
would you have done?”
The answer was immediate. “I’d kick your ass,” he growled. Thinking back to the
argument they’d interrupted, he recalled that Jace had never tried to physically harm
Xilonen. His anger hadn’t helped matters, but Turek had to admit that he would feel no
different if put in the same situation. “I’ll get him.” With one last glance at Xilonen, he
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hurried from the room and pounded down the stairs to the first floor. Shayne was sitting
sullenly in a chair while Collen watched him from the couch.
“Are Jace and his mates still here?”
Collen furrowed his brow. “They might still be in the front yard. Loken and Cyaan
were trying to get Jace to go back to my place but their mate was refusing to leave without
seeing Xilonen. Is everything all right?”
“Let’s hope so.” Rushing to the front door, he opened it and breathed a sigh of relief.
Jace stood in a pose of stubbornness with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs apart.
Cyaan was standing in front of him, saying something in an exasperated tone while Loken
leaned on Malen’s car with an expression of concern.
“Jace,” Turek called.
Jace’s head whipped around. He hesitated for all of two seconds before running into the
cabin. Turek and Jace’s mates followed the man to his bedroom. Loken and Cyaan stayed by
the door to give them space while Turek and Malen took a seat on the bed, near their mate
but not too close. Jace approached Xilonen slowly, kneeling down and keeping his hands in
plain sight on his thighs.
“Where are you, Z?”
Xilonen raised his head to glare at the other man. The tremors racking his body had
worsened and lines creased the pale corners of his eyes and lips. “I don’t c-care if you hate
me. I’d do it again.”
Jace shook his head. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you for something I can’t change. I wish
things had been different, but I’m grateful for what you did. You’re a good man. A good
friend. Now let me help you. Tell me where you are.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Xilonen bit out between harsh breaths, “I’m drowning. Every
time…I get above them…Mikel pushes me back down. I can hear him…like he’s right here.”
“It’s okay. Sometimes memories can be more potent that reality. I want you to attach his
voice to your last memory of him. The shock on his face when you blew up the buildings in
his compound. He was vulnerable then. I’ll bet you wanted to kill him as much as I did, but
you didn’t. You found the strength to resist for your brother’s sake. You had to get home and
keep him safe. You endured the loss of your mates and your home because there was no
other option.
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“You found a way to get past all of that and keep living. Use that confidence and push
Mikel’s voice down. Throw away his memory. You have to because you’re a survivor. We do
what we must and we get through another day. We love and we fight. No one can ever take
that from us.”
Turek watched in amazement as Xilonen’s body gradually stilled—the tension in his
frame lessening until he no longer resembled a man on the edge of insanity. His breathing
evened out as his head lolled back against the wall.
“There is no hiding. Rise above the voices and take back control.”
Jace repeated several similar mantras. Turek wasn’t sure exactly how long he sat there,
mesmerised by the soothing resonance of Jace’s voice and Xilonen’s reaction to it. Eventually,
Jace quieted and leant forwards to press his forehead to Xilonen’s. He whispered something
only the two of them could hear then kissed the bridge of Xilonen’s nose. Xilonen shuddered,
blinked open his eyes and smiled.
“You’re an asshole,” Xilonen said softly.
Grinning, Jace tucked a lock of the other man’s hair behind one ear. “Yeah, but so are
you. Guess that makes us the perfect pair.”
“Now all we have to do is get rid of our mates.”
Jace shrugged nonchalantly. “They can play together while we have fun.”
A round of grunts filled the room but, as Turek smiled and looked at the other three
men, he could practically see them picturing the image their two mates were drawing. And,
damn, it was a beautiful sight.
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Chapter Seven
“Don’t.”
Turek paused, one hand reaching up for the small, black box on the top shelf of their
bedroom closet. Xilonen looked at the bottle of pills in his other hand and shivered
involuntarily.
“Don’t put them back.”
Slowly, Turek walked to the dresser and set the bottle down. “Baby, it’s not time for
you to quit yet. I know you still get cold sweats and the shakes. Malen and I watch you
struggle to eat every day.”
Xilonen lowered his eyes in shame.
“Shit. Come here, beautiful.” Turek enfolded him in a strong embrace as soon as he was
close enough. “What happened today was just a relapse. You lost control but it wasn’t your
fault. We haven’t had to lock up your pills yet and I don’t want to start now. We trust you.”
But what if I don’t trust myself? Xilonen thought. Not after his episode earlier that day.
He still couldn’t believe how close he’d come to ruining everything. What made it worse was
the knowledge that they would have forgiven him. They would do anything for him. He
knew that now. Problem was, he wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself.
“I just don’t want them in here anymore. Please.”
Turek kissed his forehead then moved away to pick up the pills. “If it’ll make you feel
better. Go on and get in bed. Malen should be back any minute.”
Xilonen let out a sigh as he watched Turek leave. Even though his mates held no
censure for his earlier actions, he wanted to make it up to them, and for what he had in mind
he wanted the drugs as far away as possible.
After taking his clothes off and putting them in the basket to the side of the dresser, he
walked over to the closet and reached up to push the black box to the back of the shelf. His
eyes roamed over the overabundance of hanging clothes and he smiled to himself. He trailed
one hand over the fabrics, from Turek’s colourful, soft cottons to Xilonen’s black jeans and
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polyester to Malen’s supple leather outfits. The space was filled with such different tastes
and yet they all fit together somehow.
Towards the back, he came across a plastic suit bag he hadn’t noticed before. Pulling the
zipper down, he opened the flap and sucked in a quick breath. Inside were whips, floggers,
paddles, and a cane—all of various sizes and suspended from the sturdy hanger. Unable to
stop himself, he brushed his fingers over each one reverently. This went well beyond the
cuffs his mates used to play with or punish him. This is what Jace had spoken to him of
during the times after their sessions when his friend would talk of his relationship with his
mates. The way Jace had described some of the things his large warriors did to him had
sparked Xilonen’s interest…and envy.
Had his mates stopped using their toys because of him? Probably. He honestly couldn’t
say what he would’ve done had they confessed to owning them from the start. But now…
Closing his eyes, he imagined what Turek would look like, laid out on the bed, writhing
under the whip Malen would use on him. Would he beg for more like Jace said he always
did? Xilonen moaned as his cock jerked and filled.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs had his heart racing. He closed the bag and closet
door, jumping on the bed right before Malen entered the room. His mate pulled his shirt off
then sat on the edge of the bed, frowning when he noticed Xilonen’s accelerated breathing.
“Everything all right?”
“Yeah.”
“Your brother’s calmed down some. He’s still a little angry but he wants you better
more than anything. He’ll be fine at Collen’s house for the night.”
“Thank you for taking him. I, umm…wanted to talk to you and Turek tonight.”
Malen leaned over to pull his boots off. “Does this have anything to do with why Turek
is hiding your pills?”
With a grimace, he replied, “Yes, but that’s not what I want to talk about.”
Turek walked in then, stripping out of his clothes and tossing them onto the floor before
throwing himself on the bed beside Xilonen. “Fuck, it’s been a long day. I’m too tired to
shave.” When he got no response, he looked over at Xilonen and Malen. “What did I miss?”
“Our mate wants to talk to us.”
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Turek sat up immediately and Xilonen squirmed a little under their suddenly intense
gazes. His nerve wavered as he stared back at their handsome faces, but he refused to lose
his courage. He was done keeping secrets and living with fear.
Looking into Malen’s smoky grey eyes, he blurted out, “I love you.” Heat bloomed in
his cheeks as Malen’s brows shot up in surprise. Before he could lose his initiative, he turned
to face Turek and repeated his admission. The burst of pleasure that shot from his other mate
strengthened his resolve and he looked back to Malen. After taking a deep breath, he said,
“And I want you to make love to me.”
Malen frowned and raised a hand to feather a thumb over the seam of Xilonen’s lips.
“We love you too, sweetheart, but we can wait for a better time. We want it to be perfect for
you.”
Xilonen smiled, feeling the love he had for his mates push past the barriers of his
lingering doubt and give him the strength he needed to take what he wanted for the first
time in his life. He finally understood the point Turek had been trying to get across to him
about submission and independence.
“It is perfect for me because I know I belong here…with you. I can stand on my own
but…I need you. I’ll always need you.”
With a low growl, Malen pushed him down on the bed and brought his mouth roughly
over Xilonen’s for a searing kiss. Xilonen opened immediately, surrendering to the strokes of
his mate’s masterful tongue and savouring the flavours of mint and coffee on his breath.
Through the cover of Malen’s leather pants that separated them, he could feel the man’s hard
erection dig into his pelvis. It lit a fire that ignited Xilonen’s blood and washed over his body
in a wave of consuming heat.
Malen pulled back briefly to whisper, “Have I told you lately how sexy you are?”
“Not in the last five minutes. Now hurry up and fuck me.”
Malen chuckled then was on him again, delving deep into the recesses of his mouth and
stealing his very breath. Xilonen had only a second to draw air into his burning lungs before
Turek took Malen’s place, sucking his tongue into moist heat and driving Xilonen’s arousal
to new heights. Turek tasted of herbal spices and he revelled in the sweetness that invaded
his senses.
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Smooth skin over hard, sinewy muscles slid along his smaller frame as hands fisted in
his hair to hold his head in place. When Xilonen reached down to grasp his mate’s stiff
length, he was swiftly lifted until he was lying on top of Turek’s long body. Their cocks
jarred together and Xilonen gasped as Turek bucked his hips and deepened the kiss at the
same time.
Xilonen shivered and moaned as Malen pressed kisses along the line of his spine then
scraped his nails lightly down Xilonen’s ribs to the curve of his hips. He whimpered into
Turek’s hungry mouth when Malen drew away, only to return with one hand placed at the
small of his back while the other brushed his quivering entrance with slick fingers.
It was the first time either of his mates had touched him there and, when one finger
slowly pushed inside, Xilonen tensed at the intrusion. Images popped into his mind,
unbidden yet so graphic in detail it was as if he were there all over again, willingly suffering
the pain of an act that should have been special…sacred.
Sometime during the long hours of his violation on that fateful aeroplane trip, the drugs
and alcohol he’d ingested had worn off, leaving him sober to memorise every gruesome
detail of his attack. The way they’d forced him to watch everything they were doing to him…
“Shit, come back to us, beautiful. Open your eyes. Breathe for me. That’s it. It’s all right.
It’s just too soon, that’s all. We’ll try again later.”
Xilonen shuddered once then did as he was told, peering down at the loving concern in
his mate’s amber eyes. Turek continued to whisper soothing words while he and Malen
rubbed and kissed away the fine tremors shaking his body. Xilonen shook his head to rid
himself of the unbidden images. They didn’t belong here, in this precious moment he’d
dreamt of having with his mates ever since he’d learnt what a mate was.
“No, I’m fine. I want to do this.” When Turek only looked at him sceptically, an idea
came to mind and he rushed to say it before he could lose his nerve. “Could we try
something different?”
Malen pulled back a lock of Xilonen’s hair to lick the sensitive area just under his ear.
“We can try anything you want, little one, as long as you’re ready for it.”
“I want you to spank me.” Xilonen blushed furiously as Malen reared back, jaw
dropping open in startlement.
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“Fuck.” Turek thrust his hips up and pulled Xilonen down at the same time, fusing
their mouths together for another consuming kiss. “I think that’s a great idea.”
“You do?” Xilonen asked.
“Hell, yeah. It’ll help you relax. What made you think of it?”
Grinning sheepishly, he admitted, “I saw the whips and floggers in the back of your
closet. I know I should’ve asked you about them but I was too embarrassed. Jace said his
mates use toys like that on him all the time, but he likes getting spanked the most. That it’s
more personal. He said…” Xilonen’s cheeks flamed as he recalled the exact words Jace had
told him to recite while asking for this. “He said I should tell you I’ve been a good boy.”
Turek burst into laughter. “He did, huh? Well, you have been behaving.” Turning to
Malen, he asked, “What do you think, Sir?”
Smiling widely, Malen said, “I think our boy needs to be punished for keeping another
secret from us. That’ll have to wait, though.” Cupping Xilonen’s face in his hands, he asked,
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
Xilonen swallowed, feeling his mates’ combined arousal fill him with renewed
confidence. “Yes,” he breathed.
Malen nodded, stood up and began stripping out of his pants. Drops of pre-cum dotted
his belly as his large cock sprang free and slapped his lower abdomen. Xilonen knew how it
felt when it was in his mouth, stretching the back of his throat with its wide, dark head. Now
he would find out how it felt filling his other hole and he shivered at the thought. He knew it
would hurt. Both of his mates were well endowed. But he was also sure they would take care
of him. Their love was stronger than any fear he’d ever had to face alone.
“Lay down between Turek’s legs.”
Xilonen scrambled to obey. When he was in position, Malen grabbed his hips and
pulled him down farther so that his upper body lay draped over the mattress while his legs
dangled off the end of the bed. Turek followed him down until his cock jutted up from
underneath Xilonen’s lips.
“Take him into your mouth. Don’t let him go until I give you permission, is that clear?”
“Yes, Sir,” he said, using the title Turek had given Malen earlier. The one he’d heard
Jace call his own mates countless times. He’d never quite understood the reason for it, but it
felt good saying it—as though it confirmed Malen’s role as his Dominant. The smiles from
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both of his mates told him they enjoyed it as much as he did. As he circled Turek’s long,
dripping length with his tongue then slid it past his lips, he felt Malen begin to massage his
back, thighs, and finally his ass.
“I’m going to start out gentle and slow. Every sub is different, and you’re the only one
who knows how much pain you can take before it becomes too much. This is about finding
your own balance between pleasure and pain and where your threshold lies. If I think you’re
pushing yourself too far, I’ll stop immediately. Since your mouth will be busy pleasing
Turek, I want you to use your fingers as signals. One finger to tell me you want more, two to
let me know you want to stop. Nod your head if you understand.”
Xilonen nodded, the action pushing his mate’s cock to the back of his throat. He
swallowed around it convulsively, shaking with anticipation. Turek moaned and took hold
of Xilonen’s wrists, trapping his hands on either side of his lean waist. The first strike landed
squarely on both of his cheeks, catching him off guard. He yelped…or tried to around the
pulsing length that seemed to grow impossibly in his mouth. The second strike covered his
entire left cheek. When he tried to find purchase on the floor with his feet, Malen pressed one
hand down firmly on his lower back, denying him the chance to straighten his legs.
“Don’t fight me,” Malen said, delivering another blow. “I want you to relax.” His hand
was coming down harder now, alternating between cheeks with each well-placed slap.
“Trust me to know what you need, and remember to breathe, beautiful.”
Xilonen forced air in and out through his nose as Turek began to swivel his hips up and
down in a slow rhythm that matched Malen’s hand. After several seconds, their paces
increased, and so did the pain on his backside. He felt utterly at their mercy. Exposed and
bound. Captive to their desires. And it gave him a rush unlike anything he’d ever
experienced before.
Every solid strike slammed him into the edge of the bed, creating friction along his
cock, trapped between his stomach and the soft sheet. As the pain mounted, so did his
pleasure until he was whimpering with the pressure building in his groin. Turek groaned
and bucked harder into his eager throat.
“Oh, fuck, you’re so beautiful. Think you can take more, baby?”
Xilonen was reeling from the bombardment of sensations rippling through his body. He
felt as though he were hanging on the brink of a precipice. Tears stung his eyes and he
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thought he might drown in the overwhelming demands on his body, yet it wasn’t enough.
His cock throbbed, begging for the release he couldn’t quite reach.
With no little effort, he uncurled one finger from his fist and grunted when Malen’s
hand came down harder, faster. Fire raced over his skin and flushed his system. He tried to
lift up, to cry out as his cock readied to explode, but Turek’s hands on his wrists held him in
place.
“Come for me, baby. Come hard.”
Malen’s gruff order pushed him over the edge and his orgasm ripped through him with
blinding force. Xilonen shuddered, the merciless hand on his backside drawing out his
pleasure, milking his pulsating member without ever touching it. By the time Malen brought
his strikes to a gradual stop, Xilonen was no more than a mass of trembling flesh. Fingers
once again found his hole and pushed inside. First one, then another, but this time there was
no fear. The burning stretch quickly faded and pleasure took its place as Malen added a third
and hooked them around, brushing up against a spot that caused sparks to shoot through
Xilonen’s groin.
“Get up now, beautiful. I want to feel your tight ass around me before I come.”
Xilonen blinked up dazedly at Turek, gasping when Malen lifted him. He instinctively
moved his legs to straddle Turek’s waist.
“Slide down on me nice and easy, okay?”
Xilonen could only nod as Turek released his wrists to raise his hips up with both
hands. Malen knelt behind him and poured lube onto Turek’s cock before lining it up with
Xilonen’s hole. When the head slowly pushed past his ring, Xilonen’s breathing quickened.
He didn’t think it would fit at first. It felt so much larger than it had in his mouth, but he
relished the stinging stretch. Turek shifted his hands suddenly and squeezed his ass, causing
pain to blossom in his backside and he slid down the remaining length of his mate’s cock
with a soft moan.
“Gods, you’re amazing,” Turek groaned. “I never thought it could feel this good.” At
Xilonen’s frown, Turek shook his head. “I’ve never topped before. I’ve never wanted to with
anyone but you.”
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“Really?” Tears clogged Xilonen’s throat. Knowing this was a first for Turek—that he
was the reason for the awe in his mate’s voice—gave him a sense of power and relief at the
same time.
“Fuck, baby, don’t cry. I don’t think I can be gentle right now. You’ve got me so hard I
can barely think straight.” To prove his point, Turek slammed his hips up, driving himself so
deep Xilonen cried out in shock. He braced his palms on the man’s chest and lost himself in
the feel of his mate’s stiff length pounding into him.
Turek was relentless, filling and stretching him while Malen lifted his waist and
slammed him down to meet each one of Turek’s pummelling thrusts. Turek had been right.
He didn’t last long. After only a few minutes, he flung his head back and shouted, his hot
seed shooting into Xilonen’s channel and filling it completely. Before Xilonen could catch his
breath, Malen pushed him down by the back of his neck and Turek caught his mouth in a
scorching kiss.
“We’re not done with you yet, love. Lift your ass for me.”
The rough edge to Malen’s voice caused his semi-erect cock to twitch and thicken.
Turek enclosed his fist around it and started pumping him in long, sure strokes. This time
there was no slow introduction. When Xilonen felt Turek slide out of his channel, Malen
braced the head of his engorged cock against his exposed entrance and plunged into him. It
was all Xilonen could do to hold on to Turek as his other mate took him from behind in
strong, powerful thrusts. Each one pegged his prostate, heightening his pleasure until he
knew he would come again if Malen kept up his gruelling pace.
He was mumbling incoherently, whimpering into Turek’s mouth, when the command
came.
“Come again, boy. I want to feel every inch of you.”
Xilonen’s cry was swallowed by Turek, his body quaking as he shot all over his mate’s
abs and chest. Malen thrust into him twice more before shouting out his release. Xilonen’s
head swam as he struggled to stay upright but it was too much. He sagged onto Turek’s
chest, feeling two sets of arms wrap around him and hold him through the last of the
aftershocks from his orgasm.
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Unrestrained joy spread throughout his entire being as waves of love from his mates
swelled his heart. When Malen’s spent cock slipped from his ass, he twisted his body to look
over at the large man.
“Is Jace coming back over tomorrow?”
“Of course. Did you need to talk to him about something?”
“Yeah. I need to get some more tips from him.”
Turek’s rumbling chuckle vibrated through his chest as Malen scowled.
“As much as I love the little guy, I think any more tips you get should come directly
from us.”
Xilonen shrugged. “I don’t know. He said there’s this one thing he does with his tongue
that drives his mates insane. Especially when he—”
“Okay, I think I can live without the details. I’m going to have to have a talk with Cyaan
and Loken about their boy.”
Giggling, Xilonen slid to the side and stretched, groaning at the delicious ache in his
backside. “I like the way that sounds.”
“What?”
“Boy.”
Turek tugged on a lock of his hair then kissed his forehead. “Do you want us to start
calling you that?”
“Maybe. Sometimes. But I think I like ‘beautiful’ better. Can I call you Sir?”
Turek grinned and flicked his gaze over to Malen. “It’ll take some getting used to for
me, but I know of someone who would absolutely love it. Don’t say it too often, though. He’s
already got a big enough ego.”
Malen sat up and snorted. “I should never have given you your independence.
Ungrateful little sub.”
“Switch,” Turek corrected. He widened his eyes at Xilonen and waved a hand in
Malen’s direction. “See what I mean?”
Xilonen threw his head back and laughed. This was even better than his childhood
dreams of the happiness he’d prayed to find with his mate. This was…perfect.
* * * *
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Turek wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and stepped back to
survey the contents of the room. Colourful boxes and mountains of plastic bags covered
every flat surface but for a narrow path that allowed access to the walk-in closet on the far
side. Pointless, in his opinion, as it, too, was packed to the brim with more items than he
cared to recall hauling up a flight of stairs. Shayne would be lucky to find a pair of
underwear in there, let alone his clothes hanging up and shoved towards the back to make
room.
What in all the Gods were they thinking? he wondered.
Send three grown men into town with a shopping list and they come back with more
crap than a busload of teenaged girls with limitless credit cards. And it wasn’t even for
themselves! All of this for a smart-mouthed, bratty little goth-in-the-making that had them
wrapped around his little finger.
Turek shook his head and grinned. The kid was worth it. With quick wit and a ready
smile, Shayne had become an integral part of their lives—his place in their family about to be
made official.
Tonight, Xilonen was going to complete the task he’d been procrastinating over for the
entirety of Shayne’s life and finally divulge the truths he’d been hiding—hence, the
overabundance of gifts. Shayne would no doubt feel like his whole world had been swept
out from under his feet and they wanted to give him solid ground on which to land. A home,
a family, and as many reasons as possible to embrace his new life.
After closing the door behind him, he made his way down to the living room, dodging
to the side on the stairwell when he saw Loken coming up with a large brown box in his
arms.
Turek gaped inelegantly. “There’s more?”
“Step aside, little man. Let the big boys take it from here.”
“You’re a whole two inches taller than me!”
Loken paused and twisted to give Turek a thoughtful expression. “This is true. Maybe
it’s my bulging biceps and rippling abs that make the difference.”
Turek snorted. “Or a Master’s ego that’s been stroked one too many times by his boy.”
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“And you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, little switch?” Loken goaded with a sly
grin.
Turek hid his embarrassment with a glare. The role he took as Xilonen’s protector and
Dom was no secret, and neither was he ashamed of the thrill he got when his mate
responded so beautifully, but he was still getting used to this new side of himself. He didn’t
think he would ever gain the confidence of a Master, but then he didn’t need to. That was
Malen’s role.
The sarcastic comment on the tip of Turek’s tongue was interrupted by a commotion in
the living room. He felt more than heard Xilonen’s agitation as he walked in to find both of
his mates arguing while Cyaan stood a respectful distance away, pretending to be engrossed
in the wiring behind the television set.
“Why can’t you just bring them here? They already know where you live, don’t they?”
Xilonen was asking.
“Yes, but they don’t know that you’re here and I won’t risk them finding out until I’m
sure of their intentions,” Malen answered.
“Then I’ll hide. I can mask my presence. It’s how I got away from you at Loken and
Cyaan’s house.”
Malen narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. His posture, let alone his
size, should have been intimidating to anyone but it came as no surprise when Xilonen
merely straightened his shoulders in doggedness. Turek could tell from the twitch at the
edge of Malen’s lips that the man was trying to suppress a smile. Their young mate was quite
admirable at times. All five feet seven inches of him.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. Just how did you escape us that night?”
Xilonen tilted his head and hip to the side, dropping his voice to a sexy pitch. “Take me
along and I’ll tell you.”
There was that twitch again, but somehow Malen managed to keep his tone and
expression stern. “Nice try. I’ve already said I won’t put you in danger. Now behave and let
me talk to Turek about this.”
“Talk to me about what?” Turek interrupted. Xilonen growled and tried to stomp off
but Malen caught his wrist and yanked, bringing their chests together and using his other
hand to clamp on to the back of their mate’s neck.
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“I ran into a group of our pack while we were out shopping. They want to talk to you
and me about Xilonen, or rather the decision they made about him after the battle with
Mikel. It sounds as if they’re having the same regrets as Collen admitted to.”
Suspicion immediately bloomed and he walked over to place a possessive hand at the
small of Xilonen’s back, feeling the rigid tension there. “How can you be sure? I know they’re
your family but—”
“They’re our family and they made a mistake out of grief and ignorance. If they’re
willing to move past that to find out the truth before we have to prove it to them, then I
won’t begrudge them the opportunity.”
Neither would Turek…if Malen was willing to follow his instincts about them as he had
with Collen. Which meant that he and Malen would have to conduct the meeting far away
from their mate.
“I’ll stay here with Xilonen and Shayne.”
“That’s what I was thinking. Loken has agreed to come with me and use his power to
find out if they have any ulterior motives.”
Turek nodded. If there was anyone who could discover the reasons behind their pack’s
sudden turnaround, it was Loken. Thanks to the power he’d inherited from his father, the
God of Wrath, he had the ability to walk into the minds of others to discern their thoughts
and emotions, which would give their side a secure advantage.
“And you, my little troublemaker,” Malen said as he fisted the back of Xilonen’s hair,
“will do as you’re told and stay here.”
“But you need me with you,” Xilonen protested.
A smile finally cracked its way through Malen’s tough demeanour. They all knew it
was the other way around. Xilonen was still struggling to find his balance between
submission and independence, surrender and self-confidence. In all actuality, it wasn’t fair
for them to expect their mate to meekly accept a separation of their bond so soon after
forging it, but this was an opportunity they couldn’t afford to miss.
“Your brother needs you more. Speaking of which, he should be here any minute.”
“They just pulled up,” Cyaan said from the living room window. Closing the curtains
on the lengthening shadows of the evening, he turned to Xilonen and asked, “You sure you
want all of us here? We wouldn’t mind waiting upstairs until you’re done.”
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Xilonen sighed and shook his head. “No. He needs to see that he has people on his side.
Besides, I’m the only one who has anything to be ashamed of, and you all know my secrets
already.”
Turek was about to refute his mate’s statement of shame when Shayne, Collen and Jace
bustled through the front door with loud greetings and bags full of groceries. The mood
altered abruptly, the conversation set aside for another time, as Loken joined them and the
room broke out in commotion. As far as Shayne knew, the night was nothing more than an
overdue dinner celebration of the reunion of good friends and the making of new
friendships. And they’d all agreed to keep it that way until Xilonen was ready to confess.
Collen met Cyaan at the entertainment stand with a new game system he apparently
hadn’t been able to wait to give to Shayne. Cyaan just shook his head while the other man
proceeded to hook up the system while explaining the merits of playing games. Loken took
the heaviest bags from Shayne and Jace, kissed his mate, then left to deposit them in the
kitchen. Jace walked with Shayne over to Malen where he proudly displayed the contents of
the bags he was still carrying.
“I thought we could leave the snacks in the living room since we’re eating in here.
Where do you want me to put them?”
Malen peered into the bags then frowned. “There’s nothing but sugar in there.”
Jace shrugged and grinned widely. “Somebody has to play the spoiling uncle.”
“Collen already took that role.”
“Deviant friend, then. Come on. I got Twizzlers.” Jace took out a package and waved it
under Malen’s nose. “You know you can’t resist.”
Shaking his head, Malen said, “I think your mates have been a bad influence on you.”
“Yup, in all the worst ways,” Jace replied with a wink to Shayne.
“I suppose I should be glad you didn’t get him a dagger or sword.”
“Of course not. He’s got a set of throwing knives in the trunk of the car but, unlike his
uncle, I can wait to surprise him with those.”
“Seriously?” Shayne exclaimed.
Malen groaned and led Jace to an end table on the other side of the room. There was an
awkward silence between Shayne and Xilonen before the kid spoke up hesitantly. “So,
umm…you look better.”
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“Thanks. Did you have fun while you were out?” Xilonen smiled at his brother’s nod.
“Good. Listen, I could use your help in the kitchen.” He reached out to take Shayne’s
shoulder but the kid backed away.
“Actually, I was wondering if I could play one of the games Collen got me. That all
right?” Shayne asked, looking everywhere but in Xilonen’s direction.
“Sure. Dinner will be ready soon so don’t get too hooked.” Xilonen remained still as he
watched his brother leave to join Collen and Cyaan. When he started for the kitchen, Turek
grabbed his hand.
“He’ll come around.”
Xilonen didn’t comment. He didn’t nod or smile—merely waited to be released. Turek
finally obliged, knowing his mate was in pain, but also knowing he was dealing with it the
only way he knew how.
* * * *
The rest of the evening went as planned. Shayne eventually loosened up around his
brother but stayed close to Collen for the better part of the meal. The two had a connection
that seemed to run deeper than casual companionship. Surprising, considering Turek would
never have pegged Collen as the family type. The man was a wanderer, just as Malen had
been before mating had rooted his free spirit. Turek only hoped their friend remained close
to Shayne after the threat to him and Xilonen was taken care of. Perhaps especially afterwards,
when the kid would need constants in his life the most.
Laughter abounded and insults flew, growing in both volume and sarcasm until Shayne
was rolling on the floor in tears. Malen and Loken shared some of their more dangerous
adventures, which gradually led to a competition of one-upmanship. It was Cyaan, however,
who won their battle with a single story that blew all of theirs out of the water. Not
unexpected, considering the Keeper was over three thousand years old, but that little fact did
nothing to assuage Malen and Loken’s egos.
Sometime after nine, Xilonen’s forced joviality began to taper off, which Turek took as a
sign that it was time to get to the real reason for the night’s gathering. As casually as possible,
he nodded to Jace who took his cue and began helping him take the empty dishes back to the
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kitchen. Like a chain reaction, each man followed suit until order was restored and the
furniture moved back to its original places.
The atmosphere took on a subdued yet serious undertone and it was easy to pick up on
Xilonen’s nervousness, which only served to feed his brother’s confusion.
Everyone sat in a loose circle, Collen beside Shayne and Malen on one end of the couch
while Turek took the other with Xilonen in the middle. Turek gave his mate’s hand a squeeze
for encouragement, not failing to notice the slight tremor in it.
“What’s going on?” Shayne asked.
Xilonen cleared his throat several times then straightened his back as though reclaiming
his resolve. “I know you’ve—”
“Wait.” All of them focused on Loken immediately. The man sat with his head cocked
to the side, eyes staring off into an unseen distance.
“Love, what—” Cyaan began but his mate cut him off.
“Shh. I thought I heard something.”
Instantly, Turek went on alert, as he knew every other man in the room did as well. He
could hear no sounds other than the shallow breathing of those around him, so he expanded
his senses as far as he could but there was still nothing. No fields of energy beyond those of
his present company. A glance in Malen’s direction told him his mate was also coming up
empty.
“Malen,” Loken said haltingly, “did your convoy say anything about visiting you at
your cabin? Tonight?”
“No. I expressly forbade them from coming here until I could meet with them first.
Why?”
Loken didn’t answer at first, his expression a mixture of wariness and concentration.
“Because we’re not alone.”
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Chapter Eight
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the room erupted into chaos. Large rocks
were thrown at the windows, showering them with a barrage of shattered glass that was
quickly followed by streams of men and women. They charged in like a swarm of ants, their
hatred and righteous fury made all the more potent by its sudden impact.
It should have been impossible. No person, human or otherwise, should have been able
to slip past their detection. Not with the amount of intruders pouring in. And not with the
strength of the turbulent emotions they displayed now through their violent energy. Shock
was only a momentary delay before Turek and the others sprang into action.
“Move!” Turek shouted, but it might as well have been a whisper in the midst of the
sudden cacophony. Two men bearing double-edged daggers barrelled through the
windowless frame of the back door and ran straight for them on the couch. Malen jumped up
to block their path. Dodging the swipe of a blade, he punched his knuckles into the windpipe
of one man then dived for the other.
The ghost of a warning sensation slid down Turek’s spine and he turned to see a man
coming at him from behind with both hands aimed at his neck. Moving with the man’s
trajectory, he felt hands close around his throat at the same time as his latched on to the front
of the man’s shirt. Leaning back, he kicked one foot up into the man’s gut and propelled him
up and over the back of the couch. Another assailant took his place the moment Turek sat up
to get his bearings. The techniques in hand-to-hand combat Malen had drilled into him for so
many months after they’d met flashed through his mind as a fist swung at him from his left,
but then there was no time to think.
Only to react.
Ducking the punch, he lurched forwards, ramming the man in the groin with his
shoulder blade and rolling as they crashed onto the floor. He landed with the back of his
head on the man’s chest and instinctively brought his elbow back where he thought the
man’s face would be. Two vicious jabs and the body beneath him went limp. Turek flipped
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over and gained his feet in time to throw an arm around Xilonen’s waist as his mate tried to
run past him.
“What are you doing?” he growled.
Xilonen’s eyes were wild, his hands frantically clawing at Turek’s arm for release. “I can
help. Malen—”
“He can take care of himself. Get back!” Turek flung him in the opposite direction
where he saw Jace open one arm to catch Xilonen while flinging a knife with his other hand
towards a threat somewhere out of Turek’s field of vision. Collen had Shayne behind him,
backed up against the entertainment system, and was reaching for Xilonen as Jace pulled
another throwing knife from the inside of his boot. Loken was battling alongside Jace,
creating a tight, half-circle of protection that Collen joined once Xilonen was securely at his
back.
Turek span around to find Cyaan and Malen beating a pathway to the entrance of the
living room, their only escape route at the moment. The stinging tip of a blade bit into the
tender flesh just below his ribcage and he twisted in time to avoid the jean-clad knee to his
ball sac, but not soon enough to keep it from connecting with his inner thigh. Pain radiated
from his groin but he ignored it to land a cruel blow to his attacker’s midsection.
The high-pitched yelp threw him off balance and he hesitated with his next punch. It
gave the woman the opportunity she needed to sweep his feet out from under him. Turek
grunted as the air was knocked from his lungs and his head hit the carpeted floor. The female
followed him to the ground, fisting her hands in his shirt and bringing their faces so close he
could feel her ragged breath fan over his face.
“We don’t want to hurt you. Give us the traitor and we’ll spare your lives,” she ground
out.
Rage burned away the last of his inhibitions over striking a woman and he rolled her
over until his thighs straddled her trim waist. The glint of steel alerted him to the weapon
she’d drawn from her belt and he caught her wrist in his left hand, twisting savagely as he
cracked the palm of his right hand across her cheek.
“Only a fool seeks blind vengeance.” Turek curled his fist and struck her with a
glancing blow to the temple then span around to face his next opponent.
He wasn’t fast enough.
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Searing pain tore through his shoulder and he was shoved onto his back by the
colliding weight of the man pressing down on him. With malicious glee, the Keeper plunged
the knife further into his muscle until it scraped against bone. Turek’s ears rang with the
scream that was wrenched from his throat, but the man atop him didn’t relent. Turek raised
an arm to block the fist aimed at his face but his strength failed him. It clipped his jaw once
and he tensed in expectation of the next punch but it never came.
A tide of electricity sizzled through his body with an intensity that was unsettling yet
painless. The man above him froze in shock, the ends of his cropped hair spiking in all
directions. Another tide blasted through the air in a blue arc that swept through every
combatant in the room. Turek watched in stunned confusion as his attacker jerked
spasmodically, eyes rolling to the back of his head. The third surge drove the man back so
forcefully his spine bent backwards over the lip of the coffee table behind him before his
body weight crushed the piece of furniture.
A guttural cry sounded from somewhere behind Turek and he looked up to see a
blurred figure jump over him and land on the still form of his attacker. In the near distance,
Malen and Cyaan came rushing towards the figure and Turek belatedly realised it was
Xilonen who was raining blows down on the unconscious body.
“Enough, baby.” Malen folded his arms around their mate. “Cyaan, check to make sure
they’re still alive.”
It was then that Turek took his first, clear survey of the room. Bodies swathed in black
clothing littered the floor and furniture. Not a single person was left standing save for his
family and friends.
“By the Gods…” he heard Collen murmur in awe.
“Let me go!” Xilonen shouted.
Malen only resituated to gather more of Xilonen’s smaller frame in his tight embrace.
“You have to let us handle this.”
“He was going to kill Turek!”
At that, Malen’s head swivelled around until his wide-eyed gaze lit on Turek. Xilonen
wrestled out of his slackened hold and skidded to Turek on his knees. From his position on
the ground, Turek could see large tears well and spill through his mate’s thick, dark lashes.
Xilonen’s pale, beautiful features were etched in fright, shadowed by the fall of red hair.
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Malen’s huge frame came into focus on the other side of him. The large man cursed then
pulled off his shirt.
“The blade’s buried in muscle. No serious damage but it’s going to hurt like a bitch.
You ready?”
Turek gritted his teeth and nodded. This wasn’t the first time he’d been dealt pain, and
if it meant keeping safe the target of the misguided band of Keepers surrounding them, he’d
gladly take on more. Malen brushed a lock of hair from his damp forehead then leant down
to take his mouth in a kiss that was brief yet full of passion.
“I’m sorry, love,” Malen whispered against his lips. Before Turek could respond, Malen
yanked the knife free and pressed his balled up shirt into the open wound in one swift move.
Turek growled through the scream that tried to escape.
“They’re still alive,” Cyaan said. “He only dazed them. Some are already starting to
come around.”
“We need to get out of here. More are coming,” Loken warned.
Xilonen’s blue eyes blazed as he looked up and Turek swore he could see small, blue
sparks flash from them in the dim lighting. In a tone deadlier than he ever would have
thought his young mate capable of, Xilonen snarled, “Let them come.”
“Xilonen—” Malen started but was cut off by a volley of challenging shouts. More men
and women flooded into the room, nimbly racing over their fallen comrades in an effort to
get to them.
Xilonen extended one hand towards the living room entrance where a group of four ran
in with another group close on their heels. They didn’t get more than five feet before an
unseen force threw them back on their asses in a tangled heap. To the left, two Keepers
climbing in through the window let out strangled yowls as they grasped their chests then
toppled to the ground outside. On the right, more cries rang out followed by the thumps of
limp bodies hitting the floor.
“Xilonen, stop!” Turek yelled as loudly as he could. Pushing himself up into a sitting
position despite Malen’s protests and waves of nauseating pain, he wove the fingers of one
hand through Xilonen’s hair and forced his mate to look at him. “No more. We need to
leave.”
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Though his words were a command, his tone belied the desperation in his heart. He’d
never seen his mate like this—so full of explosive fury. Right then he couldn’t deny that he
was scared out of his wits, but his fear didn’t stem from the threat of their enemies. It came
from the crazed look in his lover’s eyes. He’d witnessed the crushing after-effects of one of
Xilonen’s powers. He couldn’t bear to watch his mate go mad from losing control of this one.
“Hold on.” Jace knelt on the floor beside them and gently pushed Turek’s arm out of
the way. “Let me talk to him. He might be our only chance at getting out of here without
causing any deaths. I’ll start killing these bastards myself if they give us no other choice.”
Clasping his hands on either side of Xilonen’s head, he brought their faces together until only
inches separated them. “Where are you?”
Turek heard the sounds of fighting in the background and became aware of Malen
leaving his side to help their friends but his attention was held by the two men directly in
front of him.
“I’m right here,” Xilonen rasped. “I can do this. I have to. If they hurt Shayne…” As if
suddenly recalling that he had yet to check on his brother, he reeled back and scanned the
room. “Shayne!”
“Over here.”
Turek craned his neck to look over at the kid behind him. Shayne was shaking as much
as his voice had, clinging to Collen’s hand as though the world might fall away if he let go.
“Stay close.” Xilonen looked back to Turek and asked, “Can you stand?”
Damn it. He didn’t like this—any of it—but Jace was right. They had no idea how many
were waiting for them outside and their reluctance to kill or maim their enemies put them at
a severe disadvantage. Even now, Cyaan, Malen and Loken were having trouble convincing
their attackers to stay down.
Ignorant fools.
“I can walk. Take off your shirt and tie it around my shoulder. Stay behind Malen with
your brother. Collen and I will take up the rear.”
Xilonen obeyed instantly, beckoning Shayne to him when he was finished wrapping
Turek’s wound. The kid nearly refused to let go of Collen, but was too scared to put up much
of an argument. Breathing through the pain, Turek allowed Xilonen to help him to his feet
then pushed his mate towards the entrance with Shayne.
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“You ready for this?” Collen flicked a glance at his shoulder but refrained from offering
aid, for which Turek was grateful. The last thing he wanted was to be a hindrance when his
mate’s life was still at stake.
“As I’ll ever be. You?”
Collen flexed his muscles, stretched his neck on either side then grinned widely. “Fuck,
yeah. Let’s go have some fun.”
Turek greeted his enthusiasm with a tight-lipped grin of his own.
Xilonen had never felt so inflamed, so in control, and so powerful in his entire life. This
was nothing like the creation and manipulation of electrical currents through inanimate
objects. The glowing essences of dozens of live beings, made painfully bright now that he
was aware of them, permeated his psyche and incited his lust for vengeance. He’d only ever
used his power on two other people in the past, but both instances had been born of fear and
followed instantly with remorse.
But now… Now it was different. Malicious. Intentional.
With a single burst of effort, he could snuff the lives of those who threatened him and
his loved ones. In all actuality, it was far more difficult for him to keep them alive by reining
in his power than it would be to kill them with it. The body was an excellent conductor of
electricity, yet fragile because of it. A little too much exertion on his part, or a failure to
disperse the energy along their skin and nerves instead of allowing it to concentrate on any
one specific organ, would prove fatal.
Their energy burned like venom in his veins, poisoning his thoughts and judgement
until the line between responsibility and desire blurred dangerously. It would be so easy to
take them all out. They deserved it. It was him they were after, yet they were willing to
sacrifice whoever stood in their way.
It was from them he stole the energy needed to produce the strong pulses of electricity
he was generating. Xilonen took his brother’s trembling hand in his and followed Malen,
Cyaan, Jace and Loken to the front of the cabin. Two Keepers rushed in and Xilonen released
a low buzz of electricity, enough to disorientate them and make it easy for Malen and Loken
to incapacitate them.
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Darkness reigned beyond the open front door. The only movements were those of black
shadows skirting the perimeter of the lawn and driveway, betraying the locations of a small
portion of the Keepers waiting for them outside. From the vast expanse of the energy he was
withdrawing from their enemies, he guessed there were many more out there—unseen and
lying in wait.
Confirming his suspicions, Loken spoke in a hushed voice, “There’re at least thirty to
forty more of them surrounding us. They’re planning an ambush. Three archers on the roof,
two in the trees on either side. They figure Xilonen will be coming out in the middle or
behind us.”
“Can you find any loopholes to their strategy in their thoughts?” Cyaan asked.
“Anything they didn’t think of that’ll allow us to catch them off guard?”
Loken shook his head grimly. “This was well planned. It seems the only thing they
didn’t anticipate was Xilonen’s ability to use his power on the living as well as machinery.”
“But now they know,” Jace said. “They’ll be even more determined to take him out now
that they realise he can bite back.”
“I can use my power to incite wrath in them, throw them off balance, but I’m not sure
how much good it’ll do. They’re too methodical in their attack. They’ve had plenty of time to
reason with their anger, however misplaced it is.”
“I’ll shock the nearest ones,” Xilonen interjected. “It’ll give us enough time to get to the
cars.”
“It’s too late for that. They’ve disabled our cars. Flattened the tyres. Their vehicles are
parked about a quarter mile down the road. If we can get to them, do you think you can use
your power to start a few of them?”
“Yeah.” But that would mean shocking the entire group of Keepers. Already, he was
feeling the strain of pushing his power to its limits while keeping it under control.
Malen must have felt his hesitation before he could hide it. “No, it’s too much. There
has to be another way.”
As if to dispute his claim, five Keepers sprang from the bushes and sprinted towards
them with blades in hand, but they were merely a diversion. Xilonen could feel the energy of
several others nearing the door from both ends of the porch, as well as more coming in
through the back door. They would be trapped unless something was done immediately.
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Filling his being with as much energy as he could, Xilonen focused on the vibrancy of
their foes and let loose a blast of electricity. The charge swept through each target with
undeniable force and piercing screams rent the otherwise still air of the night. Xilonen
gasped and felt his knees buckle at the unexpected cavity in his psyche. It had taken more, so
much more, energy than he’d been prepared to expel in order to reach all of their enemies.
He felt utterly bereft save for the blazing streak of pain that shot through him—no more than
a battered husk cast aside and trampled into the dirt.
Strong arms kept him from tumbling to the floor and Malen’s masculine scent washed
over him.
“Damn it, boy. What the hell were you thinking?”
Xilonen blinked up, smiling weakly at the naked fear in his lover’s eyes. He hated being
the one to put it there, but loved the man for showing it. “It worked, didn’t it?”
Malen’s growl was interrupted by Loken. “We have to go. Now!”
Xilonen drew in more energy, studiously ignoring the fact that it was taking far too
much effort to do so, and stepped out of his mate’s hold. “I’m okay. Let’s go.”
“Stay in the middle.”
There was just enough time to watch Malen fall back to drape Turek’s good arm across
his shoulders before Xilonen and his brother were herded out of the cabin. They ran in a tight
circle past the end of the driveway where gravel met pavement. Sharp rocks dug into the
soles of his bare feet and he spared a glance back at his mates, remembering Turek hadn’t
bothered to put shoes on either. They’d been the only two who hadn’t left the cabin that day.
Shayne’s sudden exclamation brought his attention around to their left where several
blurred shapes raced through the trees alongside them. The flash of an arrow shooting past
dangerously close to his head had him colliding with Shayne at the same moment Loken
shouted, “Get down!”
They rolled twice, Xilonen wrapping as much of himself around his brother’s smaller
frame as he could. When they came to a stop, he frantically searched Shayne’s body for
injuries. “Are you hurt?”
“N-no,” Shayne stammered, eyes bulging with fright.
Twisting around, Xilonen could see his mates and the others fending off their attackers
from all sides. His last shockwave hadn’t been strong enough. The distance between each
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Keeper had weakened its strength. He had to do better. Would do better, now that he was
prepared. Energy swirled around him, once more filling him to capacity, but it was harder to
contain. It writhed inside him, full of emotions that were fighting his control. Rising
unsteadily to his feet and pulling Shayne up with him, he once more released his power, this
time inflicting it only on those nearest them in order to strengthen the current.
The Keepers crashed to the ground in twitching heaps but more were coming. Shouts
rang out as the next tide of assailants swarmed around them.
“Z, we have to go. Collen’s waiting for us.”
A sharp tug on his hand brought him out of his momentary daze and he traced
Shayne’s pointing finger to where Collen was pummelling another man with his fists, yelling
at them to follow him. Xilonen sucked in a shuddering breath and wiped sweat out of his
eyes.
“Go with him. I’ll be right behind you.” He couldn’t leave his mates behind. He’d done
that too many times in the past and refused to do it again. Just as he was about to push his
brother towards Collen, his skull was rent apart by a shriek that was all too familiar.
“Give up now, you pathetic, lying betrayer! You think they would protect you if they knew the
truth? They’d kill you themselves if they knew who you really were. I should kill you now and save
them the trouble. You’re worthless!”
Pain radiated from his temples and threatened to pull him under until Night’s words
finally registered. How could she know he was being protected?
“Mom? Mom!”
Xilonen forced his eyes open at the excitement in his brother’s voice. “Shayne, wait!”
The fabric of Shayne’s shirt slipped easily from his weak grasp as his brother jerked away
from him.
“It’s Mom. She’s calling me. I have to find her.”
“Shayne, no!” But the little man was already gone, bolting across the road and into the
thick of the forest. By sheer strength of will, Xilonen shoved the additional pain of his
mother’s invasion aside and focused on sending out another blast of electricity. The
repercussion brought him to his knees but he pushed himself up and chased after the fading
form of his brother. Branches and thorns cut into his skin while rocks bit into his feet, but he
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paid them no mind. The sounds of fighting began to dim and the blanket of darkness closed
in on him with every step.
A glowing luminescence came from somewhere up ahead and Xilonen watched his
brother run straight for it.
“Mom!” Shayne yelled.
“Baby! Come quickly!”
Xilonen stumbled to a halt several yards away from where Night swept up her
youngest child in a joyous hug. The Goddess’s skin shone like a white flame, illuminating the
small clearing she stood in despite the covering of the black, flowing gown she wore. The
brilliance accentuated her long, black hair, brows and lashes, making her appear even more
exotic than Xilonen remembered. Her blood-red lips curved up in a triumphant smile as she
span Shayne around in her arms.
“Shayne, get away from her.” He started to approach them but Night’s thoughts drove
him back.
“Stay away from him. He’s mine now!”
In a tone that was utterly contradicting, she set Shayne down and spoke aloud, “I’ve
missed you so much, my precious little one. Are you ready to go home?”
“I’ve missed you too but…” Shayne looked back at Xilonen with concern on his face,
then even farther to the thick vegetation that was blocking his view of the men who were still
fighting for their protection. “What about my friends, and Z?”
At the mention of the others left behind, Xilonen gathered more energy, taking most of
it from nature this time, and flung the force of his power in the direction of the battle waging
in the distance. He couldn’t see what was going on, but was sure his mates would have
followed him if given the chance. Dizzying emptiness took him to his knees again and he
braced one hand against the ground to keep from falling over.
“Oh, sweetheart, I didn’t want to tell you but your brother is the cause of all this. He’s
the one they’re after for betraying them, not your friends.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Xilonen rasped.
“Did he ever tell you where he went on his trip several months ago?” When Shayne
shook his head, she continued, “He left to help Mikel carry out the plans of my devious
brother, the God of Death. You remember I told you about his crusade to hold dominion over
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all the Gods? Well, it seems Xilonen wasn’t satisfied with what I could provide for him. He
agreed to aid Mikel in exchange for a portion of the lands and money of the Keepers Mikel
had imprisoned.”
Xilonen could only stare speechlessly, his horror mirrored in his brother’s expression.
“I tried to intervene, but somehow the other Gods discovered that Xilonen is my son.”
She spat the last word out as though it were acid on her tongue. “When my brothers and
sisters blamed me for his treachery, all I could think about was getting to you, but when I got
home, you were already gone. He’d stolen you away from me after Death’s plans were
thwarted and his son killed in battle. Probably hoping to use you as a hostage if the Gods
ever caught up to him.”
“No. He…he wouldn’t. He loves me. And his mates,” Shayne objected.
“Yes, I do—” Xilonen confirmed, but he was cut short by Night’s sarcastic cackle.
“His mates? Yes, let’s talk about the idiots who fell for his innocent act. The ones he
betrayed to their enemy.”
Xilonen shook his head in disbelief. How could she know he’d handed his mates over
to Mikel? She hadn’t been there that night, and Mikel couldn’t have told her. The halfling
hadn’t known exactly who it was that had infiltrated his camp.
“So you deny it, then?”
His mind screamed at him to lie but the words wouldn’t come.
“Tell me it wasn’t you who alerted Mikel to their presence when they found the
traitorous half-God and tried to bring him to justice. Tell me you didn’t sabotage your mates’
plans to go to the Vishian and stop Mikel from freeing the prisoners there.” Turning to
Shayne, she said, “He used his power to disable every car and airplane that would have
allowed the army his mates had amassed to prevent the murders of the guardians of the
Vishian. He might as well have murdered them with his own hands.”
“Z, is this true?” Shayne asked, his whispered question more of a plea that seemed to
beg Xilonen to deny the accusations.
Thick tendrils of despair began to weave their way into Xilonen’s heart. Even stronger
was the regret he felt for not explaining this earlier, for letting his brother find out about his
sins in the worst possible way, but there was no time for self-recriminations. Pushing himself
to his feet, he took a step forwards.
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“I did do those things but not for money or lands. I did them to protect you. She’s the
one—”
“I’m the one who almost got banished after that fool, Jace, spewed his lies trying to
defend you! Oh, yes, I know all about what Jace told the other Gods. That I forced you to
align with Mikel under the false pretence that I would harm Shayne if you refused to do so.”
She cupped Shayne’s tear-streaked cheeks with both hands. “But I would never do anything
to bring harm to you. If what Jace said had been true, my brothers and sisters would have
sent me to another realm just like they did to Death, but they didn’t. They believed me
because they knew Xilonen couldn’t be trusted.”
Xilonen felt as though his soul might shatter at the look his brother sent him. This was
all wrong. Night was distorting the truth with such flawless confidence that he almost
couldn’t blame Shayne for being taken in by her lies.
“Shayne, please. I love you. I promise I’ll explain everything, just come back over here
to me.”
“Your selfishness truly knows no bounds, does it? You have a bounty on your head
issued by your entire race and all of the Gods and still you’re willing to put my baby’s life in
jeopardy just to keep him! Well, I’ll be damned if I let you take him from me again.”
“You’ll have to kill me first!” Xilonen shouted.
“Xilonen! Shayne!”
He whipped around to see two Keepers crashing through the bushes and coming
straight at him. Malen and Collen intercepted their attack ten yards from the edge of the
clearing. Fear pounded through Xilonen’s chest as a current of energy that didn’t belong to
him rippled through the air. Malen and Collen both gasped and hesitated awkwardly, their
opponents taking swift advantage of their plight and landing several vicious blows.
“No!” Xilonen wrenched his gaze back to his mother, who was staring at the scene with
a narrow-eyed look of concentration. When he glanced back to see more Keepers join in the
fray, and the movements of his mate and friend become more and more uncoordinated, he
knew instantly what was going on. Night was using her power to cast a veil of darkness over
Malen and Collen’s vision—essentially blinding them until she saw fit to lift her power.
Xilonen released a tide of electricity stronger than the last, but not nearly enough to
incapacitate the Keepers. It only evened out the playing field, and for no more than a few
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minutes at that. Sweat stung his eyes and his power careened alarmingly out of control as he
let forth another burst. Pain and nausea consumed every fibre of his being until he was
holding on to consciousness by a thread.
“Collen!” Shayne started to run towards the man but Night snatched him back.
At Shayne’s outraged snarl, her eyes gentled but her grip held firm. “I can’t let you go.
It’s too dangerous.”
“Help them. Please.”
Night pursed her lips and glanced disgustedly at Xilonen. “Do you still love your
brother? Even though he lied to you and betrayed you?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll save him, but I can only do it with your help. It won’t be easy to convince my
brothers and sisters to rescind their death decree. Will you come with me?”
“Get your fucking hands off of him!” Xilonen screamed.
“She’s trying to save your life!” Shayne shouted back at him. “I knew. I knew you were
hiding something, but this… How could you?”
Panic contended with anger inside Xilonen as Shayne took a step back, signifying his
decision. “I had to. You have to trust me.”
Shayne shook his head. “No, I don’t, but I do have to save you.” Looking to Night, he
asked, “Can you make sure my friends get away safely, too?”
Night’s smile was pure victory. “Of course, baby. Now use your power like I showed
you and fade into the night. Follow the moon and go on ahead of me while I take care of
things here. I’ll catch up with you.”
Xilonen watched his brother tap into the power they’d both inherited from their
mother—the ability to literally become the night. To wilfully disperse their molecules into the
shadows and become one with the darkness. Seemingly to dissolve in the absence of light
and travel at the speed of energy. Not even the other Gods could attain such a state of
concealment while on Earth, as they were forced to take corporeal forms once they
transported themselves outside of their own domain.
“Shayne, wait!” But his brother was already gone. Night faced him then with something
other than disgust in her black eyes that made his blood run cold.
“Now that he’s taken care of…”
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Xilonen flinched as something sharp stung his neck. Dread crept in when his fingers
found a needle protruding from his skin.
Night laughed, sauntering over to him as if she had all the time in the world. “Did you
really think I’d leave you here to die? I still have a use for you.”
Fluid rushed through his veins like ice, stealing the last of his energy and paralysing his
body. He fell helplessly to the ground. Dirt and leaves covered his face until a sharp kick to
the ribs rolled him over on to his back. Night stood above him with a cruel smile twisting her
lips.
“This was too easy.” To someone out of Xilonen’s line of sight, she said, “Take him.”
In the next moment, another face filled his vision—one that triggered a flash of terror
through his heart. He tried desperately to get away but his limbs wouldn’t move. The man
lifted him effortlessly and slung his limp body over one shoulder. His thoughts screamed out
Malen’s name even as his mind told him it was useless. His mate and friend were still
blinded by Night’s power. They would fall under their enemies without his help. The pain of
failure was the last thing he felt as the drug in his blood pulled him into oblivion.
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Chapter Nine
“Try to move again and I’ll have Cyaan pin you down while I work.”
“It’s a scratch,” Malen growled.
“A scratch that has nowhere to go at the moment so keep your ass in that seat while I
sew it up,” Loken countered.
Grumbling under his breath, Malen willed himself to sit still. It was more than just a
scratch and they both knew it. The slice was bone deep, along with about three others
covering his chest, interspersed with several bruises. Loken wasn’t looking much better, but
neither was he bleeding all over the floor. Malen glanced at Turek, who was sleeping in the
bed of the hotel room they’d rented. His mate was pale but his breathing had evened out, his
stab wound cleaned and dressed.
Cyaan came out of the bathroom, scrubbing off streaks of dirt and blood with a
washcloth on his way to the couch. Jace filled a plastic bag with ice, wrapped a towel around
it then handed it to Collen. Turek’s injury was the worst among them, though they were all
suffering. Their attackers hadn’t fared so well. Not after the eerie cloak over their vision had
been lifted and they’d discovered Xilonen and Shayne missing.
At that point, sparing the lives of their enemies had been the least of their worries.
“How do you think they found us?” Collen asked.
“I don’t know,” Malen said, “but I’m positive Night had something to do with it. Her
timing was too much of a coincidence.”
“Agreed. I get why she wants Shayne but I don’t understand why she took Xilonen as
well.”
“Or how she took him,” Jace interrupted. “I knew he was powerful, but damn. Do you
have any idea of the amount of control he displayed last night?” Without waiting for an
answer, he leant forwards excitedly, saying, “I took a physics class a few months ago and
what he did should have been impossible. Not only was he able to pinpoint and focus on the
energy fields of our enemies unseen and over a wide range, but he manipulated the currents
in such a way that he was hitting multiple, live targets without causing irreparable damage.”
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When no one responded, he sighed frustratedly. “He had to have generated electrical
currents with high enough frequencies to flow along the skin and away from internal organs,
yet short enough to prevent severe shock. Had the currents he sent out been any lower, or the
pulses any longer than a second or two, he would have fried them all. Can you imagine the
damage he could do if he truly unleashed his power?”
Malen shook his head, his mind still grappling with the implications of Jace’s
revelation. “Xilonen would never do that.”
“No, he wouldn’t, which makes what he did all the more significant. If someone were to
threaten my mates, I wouldn’t have shown the same restraint.”
“We can use that in his defence later on,” Loken threw in.
Malen gritted his teeth, recalling Night’s last words. There was no doubt in his mind
what would happen once Xilonen outlived his usefulness to Night. It wasn’t until Loken
squeezed his shoulder that he realised he was shaking with anger.
“He’s alive, and we’ll find him before that changes.”
Reining in his turbulent emotions, he nodded to his friend and sighed. “I’m not sure
how she got him. One moment he was talking, using his power, and the next, Night was
telling someone to take him. At least now we know some of those Keepers were in league
with her.”
“Maybe she’s gathering her own army.”
“Too conspicuous. More likely it’s a group of Mikel’s old followers. They weren’t all
accounted for after the last battle.”
“Did you see any that belong to your gang?” Cyaan asked.
“No. No one in my convoy would try to hurt me or Turek to get to Xilonen. It’s why
they turned their backs on us instead of following us in hopes of finding our mate.”
“Then I think you should follow through with your arrangement to meet with them.
We can all go. If they’re willing to help, would you trust them?”
Malen glanced again at Turek’s sleeping form, suddenly unsure of whether the risk was
worth it.
Loken clapped him on the leg to let him know his wound was sealed. After Malen
dipped his head in thanks, Loken walked over to the sink to dispose of the needle and rinse
the cloths he’d used to clean their wounds.
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“Not entirely. Not yet, but I have to give them a chance. I’ll set up a meeting a few days
from now to give them time to meet us at your house in Colorado.”
Cyaan nodded. “I’ll call on Love. See if she can find out where Night is. The Gods
spend most of their time in their own realm to preserve their energy, but, last I heard, Night
spends most of her time off on her own. Especially after Jace accused her of aligning with
Mikel.”
“Can you also ask your daughter a question for me?” Malen queried.
Cyaan smirked. “The nice one? Or the evil temptress that’s corrupted her?”
Loken scowled and threw a wet washcloth at his mate. “If anything, Kaia’s corrupted
Kiri. My twin was wearing pink the last time they came to visit. Pink, for fuck’s sake!”
Cyaan and Jace grinned widely. “At least it was leather.”
“She looked hot, too,” Jace chimed in.
“Brice couldn’t take his hands off of her.”
“Kaia told me they fucked like bunnies every time we watched the kids.”
Loken stared in horror at his mates then glared at Cyaan. “This is your daughter we’re
talking about, too.”
Cyaan shrugged. “I’ve had three thousand years to get over the fact that Kaia has sex.”
Malen couldn’t help but smile at their teasing. The mating between Cyaan’s daughter
and Loken’s twin brought a whole new meaning to a close-knit family. “My question?” he
said after clearing his throat.
Still grinning unrepentantly, Cyaan looked back at him. “Sorry, man. What was it?”
“Can you ask her to keep her power open for Xilonen? I know she was able to find
Jamie, Seth’s halfling mate, through his energy. She might be able to do the same with my
mate.”
Cyaan sobered, a slight frown marring his aristocratic features. “She was able to locate
Jamie because the energy he released was full of love, and there was a lot of it.”
Malen smiled at the unspoken question. “He loves us. He told us the night before the
attack.”
“He loved you long before then,” Jace said. “He was just too afraid to admit it.”
Malen was unable to voice a response, his chest tight with emotions.
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“Consider it done, then.” Cyaan stood and took Jace’s hand in his. “We’ll be in our
room if you need anything.”
“Same here,” Collen said.
Malen watched as they all left, then took a quick shower. Afterwards, he crawled into
bed with his mate and drew him close, inhaling his masculine scent. Turek tried to turn in his
arms but fell back, moaning loudly. His lids fluttered open long enough to spot Malen then
drooped down again.
“Are you awake?”
“Yeah,” Malen answered.
“Good, ‘cause I think the coffeepot’s calling your name.”
Chuckling softly, he brushed a lock of brown hair from his mate’s forehead. “I don’t
think caffeine is going to take care of your headache this time, baby.”
Turek squinted up at him in confusion. Malen could see clarity slowly set in. He
propped himself up on one elbow, raising his other arm to place a hand on his mate’s chest
in preparation. A spike of fear sizzled through the air as Turek tried to jolt upright but Malen
applied enough pressure to keep him down.
“He’s not here.”
“What do you mean, he’s not here?” Turek said, looking around frantically. “Xilonen!”
“He’s gone. Night took him.”
Turek stared at him for several seconds uncomprehendingly then asked in a voice
barely above a whisper, “Is he alive?”
“Yes.” He went on to explain the details of the fight that Turek had missed and their
plans to meet with those of their convoy willing to make amends. His mate remained silent
through it all. When his words ran dry, Turek turned his head away to stare at the wall.
“We’ll find him. We’ll get him back.”
Turek’s eyes flew back to his, spitting fury. “Like you wanted to the first time? You
hated him!” After a failed attempt to wrestle out of Malen’s restraint, he shoved at Malen’s
chest with his good arm. “How could you let him go? He needed us. He depended on us!”
Malen weathered out the storm of his mate’s anger. When Turek had finally spent the
last of his strength, falling exhaustedly back onto the sheets, Malen kissed the tracks of his
tears and brushed the damp hair from his forehead.
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“Gods, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to accuse you. I know you tried to keep him safe. I
just… We searched for him for months last time, and he was the one who found us. With
Night hiding him and Shayne now, it could take us years.”
“We have others willing to help us this time. And I won’t allow it to take years.”
Turek smiled up at him resignedly. “Your mate, your rules, huh?”
“That applies to the both of you.” Malen held his gaze, trying to convey through his
eyes the conviction in his heart. After a while, his mate nodded and Malen straightened the
mussed covers over Turek’s body. “Go back to sleep. We’ll be heading out again tonight.”
Another nod and Turek closed his lids, leaning into the kiss Malen placed on his temple.
Malen gently began to check the wound on Turek’s shoulder for tears in the stitching.
He wouldn’t think about the future past their hunt for the two lost souls who had become
essential fixtures in their lives. He had to have faith that Xilonen would keep himself alive
and as safe as possible until they found him. The man was just too damned stubborn to do
otherwise.
* * * *
Xilonen jolted awake, panic seizing his thoughts and hammering its way through his
chest. His lids refused to open, bound tight by a layer of fabric wrapped around his head.
What felt like coarse rope dug into the skin on his ankles and wrists stretched behind his
back. Cold metal vibrated beneath him and the steady roar of an engine filled his throbbing
head until he thought it might shatter. The floor tilted and he tumbled to the side, wincing as
he crashed into more metal, his skull banging on the hard surface.
Ignoring the biting chill in the air and in his bones, he expanded his senses, searching
for the spirited little bundle of energy that had been his constant companion for more than
half of his life, but found nothing. Neither could he feel the pull of his mates’ energy. Shayne,
he was sure, was safe wherever he was. Night still needed him willing and Xilonen had no
doubt she would fill his head with lies about the welfare of his brother and friends.
Xilonen’s mates, on the other hand, had been fighting for their lives the last time he’d
seen them. There would have been no reasoning with their attackers. No opportunity to
explain that their target had been stolen from them by the very Goddess who had
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anonymously recruited them to provide a distraction. Once Night’s plans had been set in
motion, she’d no longer needed to hide her thoughts. Xilonen had read them as clearly as
though watching what she’d been up to play out before his eyes.
She’d been hiding herself at night at Jace’s house, figuring since he’d defended Xilonen
against the other Gods, he might eventually give her a clue as to where Xilonen was. When
Malen had called and asked Jace to fly to New Mexico, she’d heard everything. Afterwards,
she’d gone in search of Keepers who wanted Xilonen dead and tipped them off under the
guise of being a fellow Keeper. Already under the suspicion of her brothers and sisters, she
couldn’t risk anyone finding out that she was behind the attack.
Unbeknownst to everyone, Night had used her power to mask the energy of the
attackers, giving them the advantage of surprise. Xilonen had chased Shayne from the midst
of the fighting, just as she’d intended, and run right into her trap and the waiting hands of
those of Mikel’s former followers who had managed to escape trial and incarceration.
Guilt clung to him like a suffocating shroud. If he hadn’t been so focused on learning to
push aside the thoughts of the Gods, he might have caught on to Night’s plans sooner. Now
they were all suffering for it…if his mates were even still alive.
Xilonen breathed through his rising alarm and forced his spiralling thoughts to centre.
Reaching out once again, he encountered the complacent energy of two Keepers about a yard
in one direction and four more a short distance in the other. One had a wealth of vibrance
that outshone the others. It shimmered and resonated through his psyche much as Loken and
Shayne’s did when he was near them.
It had to be a halfling. Fuck! Xilonen was determined that the half-God would be the
first he killed once they removed the ropes binding him.
From the continual motion and jostling, he surmised that he was in the back of a truck
or van. There was no way to tell how long they’d been travelling or when they would reach
their destination, so Xilonen bided his time by working on the exercises Jace had taught him.
Only, this time, when the thoughts were once more under his control, he sought out the
threads that belonged to Shayne and Loken. His brother’s thoughts were familiar, easy to
discern, and Xilonen took solace in the confirmation of Shayne’s safety he found in them.
Loken’s thoughts, however, were harder to disentangle from the others. Xilonen was
only able to catch vague snippets before the vehicle came to a stop and the creak of doors
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opening broke his concentration. Hands yanked him out and he swallowed back a surge of
bile as one of the men tried to stand him up.
The thought of using his ability to fade into the night popped into his mind but was
immediately dismissed. It required intense focus and he was still too weak from the after-
effects of the tranquiliser and the copious amounts of energy he’d expended during the fight.
The use of his power on such a wide scale had taken more out of him than he’d first
estimated.
“This is where you brought us?” one of the men asked disgustedly.
Xilonen shivered as driving rain pelted down on him. A man on each side took hold of
his arms and half dragged, half carried him up a short series of steps.
“I don’t see you coming up with anything better. Besides, this is only temporary. In a
few days, we’ll reach the facility Night set up for us. Now shut up and help us get this one
down to the basement. We need to call Night and let her know we’re here.”
“How do we know she won’t fail just like Mikel did?”
“We don’t, but she’s our only option right now. Unless you want to spend the rest of
your life looking over your shoulder or vacationing at the Vishian. The Gods and Keepers
guarding that place now have it locked down like a fucking impenetrable fortress. Open that
door for me, will you?”
Xilonen felt himself being carried down a flight of steps. The heat that warmed the
building didn’t extend to the room they were taking him down into. The stench of mould
assaulted his nose and his bare feet met cold, damp cement.
“I’m just saying, how can we trust her?”
“We can’t, you idiot.” The man’s exasperation was punctuated by a hard shove,
sending Xilonen crashing to the ground when the second man holding him let go. “But at
least she’s a Goddess, not some half-wit halfling more worried about his pet than his own
men. She’s in it for the power, not to please her daddy. Now hurry up and call her while we
secure him.”
Xilonen tensed as fingers lifted the blindfold covering his eyes then began removing the
bindings from his wrists and ankles. He squinted against the harsh light of a bulb hanging
from the ceiling as a rush of energy was released from one of the men.
It was now or never.
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Gathering his courage, he drew in the burst of energy before it could be used to
summon Night, along with as much energy from the others as he could handle, and sent it
back out in a radial wave of electricity that struck at the hearts of his abductors. Those in the
room with him were flung back, mouths and eyes stretched open in soundless shock. The
repercussive backlash tore through him like a vacuous whirlwind.
It was too much, too soon. His power was going to tear him apart if he tried to use it
again. Of that he was certain.
Black dots swam in his vision as he pushed himself to his hands and knees then
crawled towards the nearest twitching body. He didn’t want to touch the man, didn’t even
want to look at him. He knew exactly who it was. The memory of his face, his particular field
of energy, had haunted Xilonen’s dreams and waking thoughts for months. But it had to be
done. There had to be no question. With a shaking hand, he forced himself to check the
man’s pulse. Relief was swift as he found nothing but cooling skin. Looking around, he saw
the same vacant, glassy-eyed stare on all of the other men in the room.
All dead.
There was still a faint buzz of energy coming from a being somewhere else in the
building. Probably from the halfling he’d detected earlier, but it wasn’t strong enough to
concern him. There should be plenty of time for him to make an escape before the halfling
roused.
After rifling through the pockets of the corpse in front of him, he found a set of car keys
and made his way unsteadily up the stairs and through what looked to be an old, rundown
ranch-style house. Outside, the rain was coming down harder. He made his way to a black
van and climbed inside. It wasn’t until the key turned and the engine roared to life that he
dared to breathe again, to allow himself a small smile of victory.
He’d done it.
He had more deaths on his hands, but, at that moment, he couldn’t give a rat’s ass. All
that mattered was getting to his mates and finding his brother—and both tasks were looking
more promising by the second. Xilonen wiped at the blood dripping from his nose, turned
the steering wheel and…
…shivered as driving rain pelted down on him. A man on each side took hold of his
arms and half dragged, half carried him up a short series of steps.
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Xilonen lurched back in confusion but the men only increased their hold. What the fuck
had just happened? His mind reeled, trying to make sense of the impossible. He was sure
he’d killed his abductors. His hands clenched in remembrance of gripping the cold leather of
the steering wheel in the van.
“Stop!” a female voice called out from behind them. It was the halfling. The vibrancy in
her energy was unmistakable as she slipped past to head them off. She grabbed his throat in
one hand then brought her other fist up in a vicious uppercut to his stomach.
“Punch him again. Don’t give him time to think. You, hold out his arm.”
The men supporting him hesitated, giving him time to recover and narrow in on her
thoughts. They were surprisingly easy to read, but what he heard had him jerking back in
fear. She was going to inject him with something, and he had a pretty good idea what it was.
“Punch him!”
This time one of the men obeyed instantly. More pain exploded through his abdomen
and, before he could react, one of his arms was cut free and outstretched. The sting of a
needle pierced the inside of his elbow and cool liquid rushed through his veins, followed
almost immediately by a tide of warmth that suffused his entire body. Xilonen’s head
drooped, muscles sagging involuntarily as the morphine spread rapidly through his system.
“We had him under control,” he distantly heard one of the men grumble defensively.
“Oh, yeah? Then why did I just have to reverse time to save your sorry asses? Rule
number one—never underestimate the little guy. If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be lying dead
on the basement floor.”
“His power isn’t strong enough to kill. We survived it last night, didn’t we?”
The halfling snorted in disgust. “There’s a reason why Night told us to keep him jacked
full of drugs. Last night he was being merciful, though the Gods only know why. Because
I’m a half-God, I’m not as susceptible to his power, but that doesn’t fly for the rest of you.
Take him downstairs—again—and I’ll call Night.”
Cursing, the men hauled him back down to the basement. Once more, the blindfold
came off and Xilonen watched in a cloud of surreal detachment as he was propped up in a
sitting position against the wall and his wrists were secured in metal cuffs in front of him.
The man he’d ensured was dead only minutes before slapped him hard across the mouth
then grabbed a fistful of hair, yanking his head back.
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“Think you can kill me and get away with it? What I did to you on the plane is nothing
compared to what I’m going to do to you now.”
A flood of emotions ripped through him but it was the spark of anger he clung to.
Xilonen curled his lip and spat in the man’s face. “The next time I kill you, I’ll start with your
dick and work my way up to your heart.” The second slap made his ears ring and blood fill
his mouth, but he merely laughed.
He wouldn’t give the man the satisfaction of seeing his fear. With the amount of
morphine coursing through his body, he could barely move his lips to talk, let alone use his
power to prevent whatever the bastard had in store for him. From the corner of his eye, he
saw the halfling, a tall brunette, twist her lips in disgust.
“Night!” the woman shouted, flinging energy up through the ceiling. After several
seconds, the Goddess’ corporeal form took shape in the midst of a spiralling vortex of silver
ribbons and black swirls. Her alabaster skin and red painted lips gave her the appearance of
a porcelain doll, though there was nothing fragile about her.
“He used his power like you said he would,” the halfling told her, “but I took care of
it.”
“He’s drugged, then?”
“Yes.”
“Good, now get out of my way.”
The men beside Xilonen stood and moved to the door where three other Keepers had
joined them. Xilonen met his mother’s steely gaze as she knelt down in front of him.
“You know what it is I want from you.”
“Where are you keeping my brother?”
Night’s smile could have been chipped in ice for all the warmth it held. “You’re in no
position to ask the questions here. Give me the information and I’ll make sure no harm
comes to you.”
Xilonen looked over her shoulder at the promise of retribution on the face of the Keeper
who’d struck him. Ethan was his name, he remembered now. There would be no avoiding
the man’s wrath, no matter how much he cooperated.
“The other Gods will catch on to you.”
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“Not if I time things right. Tell me whenever they plan to come to Earth and where, and
I’ll take care of the rest.”
“I’m not going to spy on the Gods and give you their locations just so you can use
Shayne to take their energy.”
Night sneered at him contemptuously. “You will if you want to live.”
He let out a bark of laughter. “Go ahead and kill me. My mates will never stop looking
for Shayne. They’ll find a way to stop you.”
They stared at each other for countless seconds, Xilonen refusing to back down.
“You’ll tell me,” Night said with cool confidence. Standing, she turned to face the group
of Keepers. “Do whatever it takes to make him talk. When I come again, he’d better have
information to give me.” She dematerialised without waiting for an answer.
“Wells, go get my bag from the van. We’re going to have a little fun.” As one of the
Keepers took the stairs, Ethan walked back to Xilonen and crouched down. Xilonen flinched
when the man placed a hand on his cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have fun, too.”
“I’ll be back in the morning to give him another dose,” the halfling said on her way out.
“What’s wrong, Celia? Don’t you want to stick around for the show?”
The woman cast him a glance full of loathing. “I’d rather keep my food in my stomach,
thank you. And try not to make too much noise. We have a long trip tomorrow and I need
my sleep.”
Xilonen thought he felt the flicker of another emotion pass through her energy as she
left the room but it was gone in the next moment. The Keeper called Wells returned quickly
and dropped a large duffel on the ground beside Ethan. Fear came rushing back with a
vengeance as Xilonen looked upon the devices Ethan was extracting from the bag. From past
experience, he knew what each one would feel like on his skin. The pain they would inflict
on his body. But none of them scared him as much as the man who was about to wield them.
We survive because we must. We endure the pain of the moment.
Jace’s words circled his thoughts as his shirt was ripped away. Closing his eyes, he
envisioned the tattoos he would get to cover the new scars. They would be beautiful, and this
would be nothing more than another memory to add to his collection—one he would use to
turn down the volume of the Gods’ thoughts.
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As pain sliced across his back, he reached out again for Loken, hoping to catch a
glimmer of information on his mates through the man’s thoughts…hoping, praying, that
they were alive, and that they would still love him when he saw them again.
* * * *
Xilonen couldn’t hold back a whimper at the sound of footsteps descending the wooden
stairs. They couldn’t be back so soon. They’d only just left.
The footsteps came closer and he winced as he tried to curl further in on himself,
breaking open the lacerations on his skin that had sealed with dried blood. A hand lifted the
hair from his face then forced his head up by his chin. He cracked open swollen lids to find
the halfling looking down at him through narrowed, dark brown eyes. Her features were
more masculine than feminine, though she was a statuesque beauty. Long, auburn hair was
pulled back into a severe ponytail, full lips pursed in a grim expression.
“They worked you over good, didn’t they?”
Xilonen only stared, not knowing what to say. Not even sure his voice would work if he
tried to use it.
“Don’t worry. I’m not here to hurt you. When I kill you, I promise it’ll be painless. Not
that you deserve my mercy.” She brushed more hair from his face, her touch almost gentle—
warm on his icy skin. “You’re nothing like what I expected. I guess over the months of
planning my revenge, I’d built up this image of you being some kind of savage—a man with
an appearance to match the tales of his cold heart—but you’re hardly more than a scared
little boy.”
When there was no response, she let him go to withdraw a syringe from the inside
pocket of her jean jacket. Xilonen moaned, inching away until the wall blocked his retreat.
Celia uncapped the needle and flicked it with a nail, pushing slowly on the plunger to release
any trapped air bubbles.
“I should be thanking you. My mother abandoned me at birth, so it’s not like I
harboured any love for her. The Keepers who took me in told me she’d wanted to kill me.
Blamed me for my father leaving her. I’m sure by now you’ve figured out which God that
is.”
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Xilonen only blinked, not able to tear his gaze from the drug in her hand. He’d known
the God of Time was her father the moment he’d figured out that she had reversed time to
undo his murder of her comrades.
“I had just tracked her down when she’d joined Mikel’s army. I was waiting for the
perfect moment to reunite, but then you interfered. She died from one of the explosions you
set off in Mikel’s camp, taking her from me.” The woman leaned in closer, her face contorting
with fury. “She was mine to kill! Mine to pay back for leaving me to die a defenceless baby.
You ruined everything.”
Stunned, Xilonen looked up into her eyes. The emotion he’d caught from her last night
was back, but it wasn’t anger or contempt he felt through her energy. It was pain. The kind of
pain that was invisible, yet all too real. Empathy tightened his chest despite his desire to feel
nothing but hatred for her. He knew exactly what she was going through. The heartache and
suffering. The futility of knowing he couldn’t bring death to the one person who truly
deserved it. The one who should have loved him instead of using him.
Xilonen cleared his throat, unsure of what would come out but knowing he had to say
something. It took him a few tries to form more than a croak. “The Keepers who took you in,
were they nice?”
Celia frowned as though taken aback by his question. “Yes, I suppose. They treated me
like one of their own children, but that can’t erase what my mother did.”
“I’m sorry I killed her before you got the chance.”
“What do you care? You should be more concerned with giving Night what she needs
so I can kill you. Those men, they won’t stop torturing you until you give in.”
Xilonen smiled briefly. “I don’t care what they do to me, as long as it means keeping my
brother safe.”
Celia’s eyes roamed sceptically over his naked body. “No offence, but there’s not going
to be much more left of you if you keep this up.”
His lips cracked as his smile widened. Licking away the blood, he glanced back at the
needle. “There was never much of me to begin with, but I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for
your revenge. I don’t plan on giving in any time soon.”
The woman shook her head then pulled on his wrist to inject the needle into his arm.
Xilonen’s head fell back, eyes closing as the drug took away more of his will. More footsteps
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pounded down the stairwell. Hands tugged harshly on his ankles and hair as he was bound
and blindfolded. A heavy metal weight was inserted into his mouth and secured there by a
band that wrapped around the base of his skull.
“At least get him dressed first,” he heard Celia say in a tone thick with distaste.
“Why? We’re only going to strip him down and start all over again when we get to the
next stop.” Two of the men laughed raucously at Ethan’s comment. One of them hefted
Xilonen up over his shoulder and proceeded to the entrance of the building. The back doors
to the van creaked open and he bit down on the mouth gag to keep from crying out as he was
thrown inside.
The vehicle lurched into motion and he spent the next several hours wondering how
upset Celia would be if he died from hypothermia before she could get her chance at ending
his life. By the time he was pulled from the van again, his joints hurt more than the rough
hands on his body.
Night made another appearance, and he voiced another refusal. Xilonen thought he saw
something akin to pity in Celia’s eyes as she shot more morphine into his arm, but then his
mind was too lost to care. Sometime during the night, she must have complained about the
noise. The heavy weight was inserted back into his mouth to muffle his screams as the men
continued to take turns at him.
Inside his mind, he found refuge from the pain of their attentions. According to Loken’s
thoughts, his mates were very much alive and searching for him. Shayne was still safe, if
extremely frustrated. His kid brother accepted Night’s excuses for wanting him to stay inside
in order to keep his location a secret, and believed her when she said it was too risky for him
to contact Xilonen or his friends, but he wasn’t happy about it in the least. Night had
appointed a pair of guardians to watch over Shayne, but Xilonen had no doubt there were
more who stayed unseen and unheard by his brother.
It was sometime during the third night, when his concentration had failed and the
voices of the Gods had become louder than those of the men around him, that a shred of
hope broke through the fog of his pain. The idea was probably his most foolish to date, but it
might also be his brother’s only chance. His mates were no closer to finding Shayne than he
was and Night was quickly losing patience.
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He waited until after the men had left him alone then sent up a surge of energy cloaked
in anger, reciting in his mind the name of the God he was trying to call on. The self-centred
prick wasn’t known to answer even half of the summons sent out to him, but Xilonen could
be just as stubborn. He sent up another brimming with despair, hoping the emotions would
mask his intentions from the others.
A third, then a fourth.
Celia would be coming soon with another dose of morphine. He was about to give up
until later when an iridescent shimmer caught his eye from the deep shadows on the other
side of the room. A space as large as a door frame danced and writhed like the air above a
bonfire until the God inside took shape. Xilonen saw nothing but a blurred figure, the rays of
the moonlight spilling in from the narrow window not enough to illuminate the darkness
cloaking it.
Then the God strode forwards into the meagre light. He was huge! Not as tall as Malen,
but his massive build was broad and thick everywhere. The tight, black pants and sleeveless,
open vest he wore hid none of the corded muscles that bulged from his neck to his calves. He
was a quarter-horse in the form of a man.
Fingers snapped and Xilonen cringed when a bright flicker of flame appeared several
feet to his side, expelling the darkness. It provided no heat, and he quickly realised it was
merely a manipulation of energy, not actual fire.
Nice trick.
The God’s face was clear now, if half hidden behind a five o’clock shadow. His
glittering, black eyes were calculating and his bald head was covered in an array of colourful,
vicious-looking tattoos. The overall effect was intimidating, scary, and somehow ruggedly
handsome. It worked for the God of Chaos.
“What the fuck is this?” Chaos boomed.
Shit! Xilonen thought. He glanced at the door then back at the God, expecting at any
second for his captors to come barging in. He hadn’t exactly planned this through, and with
his mouth gagged and his hands tied behind his back, he had no way of telling the arrogant
deity to keep it down.
“Wait. Why do I feel like I should know you? You’re not a God, but too powerful to be
a Keeper. Halfling, then?” Chaos stepped closer and knelt down. Xilonen shied away as the
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God extended one hand to touch his cheek. “Pretty, even beaten to Death’s realm and back.
You remind me of… Oh shit, you’re Night’s kid, aren’t you? The little cuss who betrayed
everyone.”
Xilonen nodded.
“So I take it they’ve found you and decided to get a little payback before ending your
life? Typical, but why would you summon me? By right of the decree, I should kill you right
now.” Chaos’ brows lifted as though realisation had struck. “Ahh, I get it. You’re hoping for
pity. The God of Chaos is the only one who won’t conform to the law so you thought you’d
appeal to my nature and convince me to steal you away. Possibly make you a part of my
harem?”
Xilonen blinked, then laughed out loud, or tried to. Chaos no more had a harem than
Xilonen had freedom. The God was a rebel and a loner and he liked it that way too much to
ever have dependants. Or even so much as a friend. Xilonen choked on the mouthpiece,
which started a coughing fit that racked his bruised ribs.
“Glad I amuse you,” The God said drily. With nimble fingers, he untied the strip from
around Xilonen’s head and pulled the gag from his mouth. “Care to tell me why you
summoned me then?”
Xilonen spat out blood and saliva then tried to get his numb lips to work. “I d-d-didn’t
m-m-m…”
Chaos sighed heavily. “Well, this just won’t do.”
The God snapped his fingers again and Xilonen gasped as everything changed. Warmth
surrounded him on all sides. Landscape pictures, plush rugs and bright tapestries replaced
cold, stone walls and cement flooring. Light came from a roaring fire in a massive, cast-iron
fireplace and dozens of candles placed on softwood, antique furniture. Xilonen looked down
to find himself wrapped in a thick quilt and sitting atop a large floor cushion in front of the
fire.
The most surprising of all was that there was no pain. He felt…good. Great even!
“Drink this.”
Xilonen uncovered his hands to accept the steaming mug held out in front of him. The
liquor inside was rich and sweet. It filled his empty stomach with scorching heat and made
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his head spin, but it was a pleasant rush. When the freezing ache in his bones had subsided,
he asked, “Where are we?”
Chaos sat down in an over-stuffed recliner to his left. “We’re still in the same room
where you summoned me. This is an illusion that doesn’t exist in time. After you tell me
what it is you want you’ll be right back where I found you as if you’d never left.”
Taking another swallow, he nodded then put the mug down. “You’ve heard what Jace
said about me. It’s all true. Night really was there to aid Mikel and his father, Death. What
you don’t know is why.”
A snifter appeared in one of Chaos’ hands and he brought it to his lips, sipping
casually.
“Night was only helping Mikel to further her own goal, which was the same as Death’s,
but she didn’t plan on sharing. She has another son called Shayne. One of my brother’s
powers is the ability to absorb energy from the Gods. She wants to use him to transfer their
energy directly into her. I tried to keep him safe, away from her, but she found us.”
Chaos sat forwards, his agitated thoughts swirling in Xilonen’s mind. “What you’re
saying would be impossible to carry out. The Gods, myself included, spend the majority of
our time in our own realm. Your brother would only be able to withdraw energy from us
while we’re on Earth. And, if I’m not mistaken, he’s still part Keeper. Unless he has the
ability to transport himself as well, he can’t travel to us in time to take our energy, let alone
know where we’ll be and when.”
“That’s where I come in. I can hear the thoughts of the Gods. Yes, yours too,” he said at
Chaos’ alarmed expression. “I’m to be tortured until I agree to reveal the locations of any
Gods planning to visit Earth. My brother and I can also become the Night. Once we fade, we
can travel at the speed of light if we want to, but I don’t think our power is limited to our
realm. I think that, if we trained to develop it, we could eventually travel to the realm of the
Gods.”
“And you’ve tried this?”
Xilonen shook his head. “I’ve never had a reason to. I’ve spent most of my life trying to
inhibit my powers, not explore them. But I have a feeling I could if I wanted to, and so does
Night.”
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Chaos remained silent for several minutes, digesting the information. “So you want me
to follow Night and steal your brother away once I find him.” At Xilonen’s nod, he asked,
“How do you know I won’t just kill him? His power threatens me as well.”
“Because Shayne is an innocent. Night told him lies in order to gain his cooperation.
And because my mates know about him. So do their friends and most of the families of the
guards who died defending the Vishian. If Night finds out it was you who killed Shayne, she
won’t hesitate to tell the other Gods you killed her innocent son after my mates find a way to
incriminate her.”
“Son of a fucking bitch”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
Chaos flashed a grin that quickly changed to a frown. “If I take him from her, you’ll be
the first one she comes after. She’ll kill you. Are you willing to die for your brother?”
Xilonen smiled. “Have been since he was born. He’s worth it. He’s worth everything.”
“I take it you want me to take your brother to your mates. What happens if they can’t
protect him? My sister obviously succeeded in finding him once. She’ll try to get him back
again.”
“That won’t happen.”
“And if I refuse to help you?”
“You won’t.”
The God shook his head. “Such misplaced faith. If you can read my thoughts, then you
should know I’m not one to take kindly to coercion. Find another God to dupe. I have better
things to do.”
Another snap of the fingers and Xilonen was back in the basement.
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Chapter Ten
Pain tore through his body as his wounds returned and the drop in temperature stole
the air from his lungs. Xilonen gritted his teeth against the sudden onslaught then froze as
the door to the room was opened. Celia came in holding a syringe in one hand and a small
bag in the other followed by Night. They were early, and from the gleam in the Goddess’
eyes, Xilonen knew it wasn’t by coincidence.
Night moved to stand above him, glowering down in disdain. “Have you any
information for me?” When Xilonen only glared back, she grinned maliciously. “That’s too
bad, because I have some for you. I’ve gotten word of a gathering tomorrow night which
many of my brothers and sisters will be attending. Over half of my pantheon will be at the
Vishian. I’ve been excluded from the list but I see no reason for Shayne to miss out on the
fun. My baby learning to use his power on an entire group? It should be grand, don’t you
think?”
Xilonen froze in terror. Shayne was exactly what Night had just called him in respect to
his power—a baby. His only experience using it thus far had been on Xilonen and Night at
her behest, but Xilonen had always prevented Shayne from overtaxing himself. Trying to
extract energy from so many Gods would tear his brother apart, or at the very least, fracture
his mind.
Would Night really risk Shayne’s life that way? Xilonen delved into her thoughts to
discern her intentions. She was using this tactic as a ploy to make him talk, but if he failed to
do so, she wouldn’t hesitate to guilt Shayne into doing this for her.
“Reading my thoughts?” To Celia, she said, “Take that thing out of his mouth. I think
he finally wants to talk to me.”
Celia put the needle in her bag then did as she was told. Xilonen steadied his voice
against the cold that shook it as much as possible. “If he d-dies, so do all of your p-plans.”
“For the time being, perhaps, but I have others. Celia has made it quite clear to me that
my current methods of making you talk won’t work, so it seems I must enforce more drastic
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measures. Tell me what I want, or I’ll tell your brother that your life depends on his
performance tomorrow night.”
Xilonen knew there was something she was holding back. She wouldn’t jeopardise the
key to her success without some kind of contingency plan. Unfortunately, she was getting
better at masking her thoughts and he was in no condition to argue.
She’d won. She would use his brother, and Xilonen would help her because it was the
lesser of two evils. Tamping down his rage, he closed his eyes and repeated his exercises,
focusing on the thoughts belonging to the most benign of the Gods. If Shayne made a
mistake, those would be the least likely to act first and ask questions later. He divulged the
meeting plans of two Gods who kept in constant contact with certain Keepers to get her
started. Night beamed down triumphantly then vanished with her usual flare.
Xilonen clung desperately to his rage as shame bore down on him. For twelve years
he’d done all he could to prevent what was about to happen, and yet, it had all been for
naught because he’d failed to act. Failed to protect, and failed his brother.
“I won’t let them touch you again.”
He looked up into the halfling’s chocolate-coloured eyes then turned his head to stare at
the wall. “I don’t n-need your pity, and t-trust me, I don’t deserve it.” During the stretch of
silence, he could feel her gaze on him, as though searching for something, but he didn’t care
what she saw or found. Right then, he wasn’t too sure whether or not he would welcome
death by her hands. Or power…whichever the case may be. The sharp tang of disinfectant
stung his nose and he turned to see her soaking a sterile pad with peroxide.
“Hold still. This is going to sting a bit.”
“Don’t.”
She paused with her hand inches from his back. “I may want to kill you, but it won’t be
for some time yet. You’ll get an infection if I don’t clean you.”
“Please. Just…not right now.” He couldn’t stand the thought of being touched at that
moment. There had been too many hands on him over the past three days. Too much pain
and humiliation.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Xilonen extended his arm, not bothering to watch as she broke his skin with the needle
and pushed the plunger.
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“You really love him, don’t you?”
Slumping back against the wall, he gazed up at her through half-lidded eyes and
allowed one tear to fall. “Yeah. So m-much that I’m helping my mother d-destroy him.”
“It’s not like you have a choice. And besides, he’ll live through this.”
His bark of laughter came out a weak breath of air. “We survive because we m-must.
We were both born to that lesson, but how f-far would you go to save someone you loved
from having to learn it?”
She stared at him again, and again he couldn’t bring himself to care. After a while, a
blanket was draped over his broken flesh and the sound of a door closing reached his ears,
but by then he was gone—lost in his search for the God of Chaos’ thoughts. When he found
them, a small sigh escaped his lips. Chaos was thinking about their earlier conversation,
aggravated because he couldn’t get it out of his mind.
For now, that was enough.
* * * *
The crisp, night breeze chilled his skin and set his teeth to rattling, but he wouldn’t
close the window. Not yet. Not until his friend came to chase away the loneliness for a few
hours. Snow blanketed the sodden earth outside, piling on the tree limbs and blowing gently
through the air. He recalled the snowball fight he’d had with his friend Collen almost a
month ago. It had been more like slushy ice that stung on impact at the time, and Shayne had
been sure the guy had missed him nearly every time on purpose.
Shayne cleared his throat against the sudden ache that clogged it. He would see Collen
again soon. He would see all of them. She had promised.
“Close the window. You’ll catch a cold.”
Shayne span around, a smile already splitting his face. Leaning against one of the four
posts of his bed was a man who looked more like a prison escapee than a God with nothing
better to do than hang out with a bored kid. The wicked-looking tattoos and bulging muscles
only made up part of his charm. The other parts lay in his cynical personality and fuck-with-
me-and-die attitude. He was everything Shayne shouldn’t be exposed to and all that made
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him happy lately. It still wasn’t apparent to him why Chaos had taken a sudden interest in
him, but he was too grateful for the company to care.
Unable to hold back, he raced across his room and threw himself at the huge God.
Chaos grunted, arms automatically wrapping themselves around his smaller frame.
“Damn, kid. Miss me much?”
Shayne only nodded and tightened his grip. The knot at the back of his throat grew
until it felt like he couldn’t breathe.
“Hey, what’s wrong? You were fine when I left you last night. Something happen?”
Squeezing his eyes shut, he burrowed his face into the God’s abdomen, trying to keep
the moisture in.
“Shayne? Shayne!” Chaos prised him off with strong yet gentle hands and knelt down,
putting them at eye level. “Shit, what did she… What happened? Did someone hurt you?
Did that bitch—”
Shayne jerked out of his grasp. “No! Damn, why do you always blame my mom for
everything? She loves me. She would never hurt me.”
Muscles flexed and twitched in Chaos’ jaw. An impressive sight, and one Shayne was
sure should have struck fear into his soul, but it didn’t. Chaos wouldn’t hurt him any more
than Z or Collen would.
Or his mother.
The God let out a frustrated sigh then stood. “I’m sorry. But I can tell something’s
wrong and she’s responsible for you.”
“Not everything is about her. Sometimes I just…” Shayne shrugged a shoulder,
embarrassed now by his display of emotion. At times, his necessary seclusion became too
much to bear, but he could think of better things to discuss with his friend. Their time with
each other every night was limited, and he didn’t want to waste a minute of it. “It’s nothing.
What do you want to do tonight?”
Chaos narrowed his gaze but thankfully decided to let the subject drop. “Whatever you
want to do, kid.”
Shayne pretended to think about it for a moment. Most of their nights together were
spent going on adventures. Granted, they were all illusions and when he awoke, he was still
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trapped in the misery of waiting until his real-life adventure was over, but they were what
kept him going. Tonight, however, he wanted nothing more than to just…be.
“Can we talk? I mean, can you tell me a story?”
Chaos gave him a lopsided grin. “Sure. Are we talking blood, guts and gore, or
something a little more appropriate for your age?”
Shayne grinned back. “Lots of gore.”
“That’s my boy. Lie down. You look like you’re about to fall over.”
Shayne crawled into bed while his friend closed the window. As his back hit the
pillows, a wave of weariness swept through him and he struggled to keep his eyes open. The
day had been particularly brutal. Every night, his mother claimed that he exceeded her
expectations, but it was never enough. She always said she needed more energy in order to
compel the other Gods to let his brother live.
When Chaos climbed onto the bed, Shayne resisted the urge to go to him. To feel that
warm contact that he shared on rare occasions with the God who always seemed to make
everything better. To surround himself in the touch of someone he felt safe with—
“Come here.”
Shayne went instantly. Large arms wrapped themselves around his upper body as he
inhaled the God’s musky scent. The deep-seated need he had to be held by the powerful
being warred with his sense of pride for the blink of an eye before he melted into the
embrace. Chaos pressed a chaste kiss onto the crown of his head and pulled him in tighter.
“Let me take you away from here,” the God whispered.
“I can’t,” he whispered back. “You know that. I have to make sure my brother will be
okay.”
“What if I made sure he was safe?”
Shayne craned his neck to look up. “He is safe with his mates. Oh, you mean you can
convince the other Gods and Keepers to back off?”
Chaos frowned, brushing back the fall of Shayne’s bangs. “No, I meant…” He let out a
long sigh. “Kid, your mom isn’t who you think she is, and I don’t like what she’s doing to
you. I’ve put up with it for this long but—”
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“She’s not doing anything to me.” Shayne growled. “She’s the only one who came up
with a way to fix my brother’s mistakes and I agreed to help her. I know she’s been
distracted lately but it’s only because of stress. She’s not always like this.”
“Then tell me what she is like.”
It was Shayne’s turn to frown. He knew his mother was different around him than
anyone else, but Chaos had known her since the Gods had come into existence. Surely he
knew more about her than him. Shayne began hesitantly, speaking of how his mother used to
visit him every day to make sure he was safe. Keep his father from hurting him just as Z had
and make sure he was happy. Sometime during the night, Shayne’s talk turned to Collen, as
his thoughts had a tendency of doing, and he found himself comparing the man to Chaos.
Not to point out their differences, but rather their similarities. Both men were so alike that he
knew they would get along.
“You have to stay with me,” he mumbled, on the verge of sleep. “When this is over,
promise me you’ll stay. Z won’t mind, and I know once Collen gets to know you, he won’t
mind either.” He felt another kiss pressed into his hair.
“I’ll do my best, beautiful. Now go to sleep.”
Shayne smiled at the endearment he’d heard Malen and Turek use so many times for
his brother. When sleep finally pulled him under, he dreamt about Collen and Chaos and the
day his two friends would meet.
* * * *
The streetlamp flickered to life at the end of the dirt road, though its light was barely
discernible against the backdrop of fading dusk. The glow of the filaments in the bulb
gradually increased, preparing to take on the coming of the night. Then, without warning,
glass shattered in a bright explosion and rained down on the frozen earth below.
Xilonen smiled as he looked down to see small, blue sparks dancing along his
fingertips. His concentration was improving, and with it, his power. It wasn’t enough to
facilitate his escape, and the strength of it depended on the amount of morphine in his
system, but it was a start.
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A key turned in the lock of the upstairs bedroom he’d been given and he span around
to face the door, edging away from the barred window. Ethan walked in, closed the door
behind him, and threw a towel onto the floor.
“It’s time for your shower. Get undressed.”
Xilonen’s eyes snapped to the door and back in alarm. Celia was usually the one to
oversee his basic hygiene needs. She didn’t like him, but she’d kept her promise to keep the
men away from him so long as he cooperated.
“That bitch isn’t here to save you this time.” The man took off his belt and coiled one
end around his hand, leaving the buckle to swing free. “She’s busy with your mother. Now
take off your clothes.”
Pushing down his fear, Xilonen widened his stance and firmed his resolve. He’d pay for
this later, but it would be well worth it. “Come over here and make me.”
Ethan’s mud-brown brows shot up. “Grew some backbone, did you? Looks like it’s
time to increase your dosage.”
Xilonen’s breath quickened as the man advanced on him. One direct hit. That’s all he
needed.
Ethan backhanded him viciously across the mouth then grabbed the front of his shirt,
shoving him back against the wall. Xilonen placed a hand on the man’s chest and gathered
his power to strike when the cock of a gun stopped them both.
“Unless your dick can shoot bullets, I suggest you keep it in your pants and get out.”
Xilonen could see Ethan calculating his chances on gaining the upper hand despite the
nozzle Celia was pressing to the back of his head. With blurring speed, the man pivoted at
the same time as Celia cracked the butt of the gun across his temple. Ethan went down in a
sprawling heap at her feet. Xilonen looked back up at the halfling, ready to convey his
gratitude, but held back as she pinned him with a hard glare.
“I will not play by her rules.” She lifted the gun, aimed it at his head, and pulled the
trigger.
* * * *
“We’ll find your mate.”
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Collen glanced over his shoulder from his perch on the stone wall dividing Cyaan’s
property from several acres of farmland. His eyes were rimmed in red but his cheeks were
dry. Malen joined him on the wall but kept a respectful distance.
“How did you guess?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Might have been the moping for days on end. The cranky attitude
and constant bitching. Or possibly the way you nearly bit everyone’s head off when they
reported nothing new at our last meeting.”
His friend winced, dragging a hand through his blond hair. “Sorry, man. I know the
gang is trying as hard as we are to find them, but we’re still getting nowhere. It’s just hard to
keep my cool sometimes, you know?”
“Yeah, I do. And I hope you know that Shayne is my family. You hurt him even once
after we get him back and Xilonen isn’t the only one you’ll have to answer to.”
Collen met him glare for glare. “And he’s my mate. Until he’s old enough for me to
claim, I’m holding you personally responsible. Fail him and I’ll kick your ass.”
Their hard gazes remained locked until the appropriate time had passed. When it had,
Malen broke into a grin and Collen did the same, smiling for the first time in days.
“Now that we got that settled, congratulations.”
Collen shook his hand and clapped him on the arm. “Thanks.”
“When he turns eighteen and moves in with you, you’re gonna have your hands full.”
“Do me a favour and try not to let Xilonen corrupt him any more than he already has.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll wait till he’s sixteen before we allow him to get tattoos and
piercings. Can’t make any promises on the makeup, though.”
Collen snorted. “He may live with you for the next six years but all decisions regarding
him go through me first.”
“Like you’d object to the makeup. All you have to do is look at Xilonen to picture what
Shayne would look like in it.”
“Yeah. Your mate does pull it off nicely. He’s got the whole sexy—Ow!” Collen rubbed
his shoulder where Malen had punched it. “What? It’s not like you can blame a guy—”
“Gentlemen.”
Malen and Collen jumped off the wall and span around to face the stranger standing
behind them. He wore an open black vest with matching pants and tattoos that gleamed in
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the sunlight on his shaved head. The few inches Malen had on him were more than made up
for in girth. There was a sinister air about him that Malen didn’t trust, but nothing that
triggered any alarms.
“Who are you?” Malen asked.
The stranger’s black gaze met his then fell on Collen and stayed there. “He’s at 2400
Pontiac, off of King and County Road Four-ninety-one, north of Lewiston, Michigan. His
brother is being held in one of Mikel’s abandoned facilities five miles east of there. I suggest
you go now.”
“Who are you?” Malen repeated, but the man ignored him, attention focused solely on
Collen. With deliberately slow movements, as though the stranger might disappear, Collen
climbed over the wall and walked forwards until only a few yards separated him from the
other man.
“You’re talking about Shayne. You’ve seen him.”
The stranger nodded.
“Is he all right?”
Tension filled the air around the two as the other man paused. “He will be. Look after
him.”
“Wait. Come with us.” Collen stepped closer to the stranger and put a hand on his arm.
The energy from both men suddenly spiked as the tension became rife with arousal. It
charged through Malen with an undeniable force and at the same time pushed him away. He
felt like an outsider intruding on an intimate moment between two lovers, but that couldn’t
be. Collen damn sure would’ve mentioned knowing anyone who could provide the kind of
information the stranger had given, whether it was true or not.
What the fuck was going on?
Malen’s jaw dropped as Tattoo Guy grabbed Collen by the waist and brought their
mouths together in a crushing kiss. In the next second, Collen responded with such
enthusiasm that the stranger took a step back to balance himself. They writhed against one
another as their tongues duelled and hands explored with increasing urgency. When Collen
groaned, the stranger responded by fisting both hands in the man’s blond hair and trapping
his head as he deepened the kiss.
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Then it was over as abruptly as it had started. They pulled apart as though fighting an
invisible magnet and stared at each other, panting heavily. Tattoo guy recovered first,
placing one palm on Collen’s cheek and rubbing a thumb over his swollen lips.
“Love him.”
And then he was gone. Collen stumbled back from the empty space that had contained
a man just a moment ago.
No. Not a man.
A God.
Malen felt the subtle difference in energy that he hadn’t recognised before, but it only
served to confuse him more. “Collen?” His friend looked over at him in dazed bewilderment.
“Want to tell me what the fuck that was all about?”
Collen shook his head, then again harder as if to clear it. “I don’t… I don’t know.”
“Are you okay?”
A pained expression passed over Collen’s face as he pressed a fist to his chest and
cleared his throat. “I think so. He was telling the truth. He told us where to find our mates.”
“You’re certain.”
“More than anything in my life.”
Malen studied his friend, feeling the first stirrings of anticipation in his gut. This was
the only lead they’d got so far, and as bizarrely as it had come, Malen trusted Collen’s
instincts.
“Well, let’s go get them then.”
Collen’s smile was shaky but true. “After you.”
Glancing sideways at his friend as they jogged back to the house, Malen asked, “So
what was that, a drive-by romance?”
“Shut up.”
“Or more like a one-minute fling?”
“Don’t make me kick your ass.”
Malen held his hands up in mock surrender. “Easy, minute man. I heard they have pills
for that.” He dodged the sideswipe that came at his head but didn’t see the tree root that
caught the toe of his boot. “Shit!” Collen’s laughter floated back to him as he hit the ground
rolling, sliding in a patch of mud.
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“They got pills for that, too?”
“Smart-ass,” he grumbled, jumping up to give chase.
* * * *
Ethan backhanded him viciously across the mouth then grabbed the front of his shirt,
shoving him back against the wall. Xilonen placed a hand on the man’s chest but was too
confused to summon his power. He couldn’t shake the image of the barrel of a gun
superimposed on Ethan’s face. A sharp crack sounded right before the man fell to the floor.
Xilonen’s gaze flew to the woman now standing in clear view in front of him.
Celia tucked the revolver into her belt at her back then pulled up her brown locks to
secure them with a hairband.
“You j-just shot me.”
“Caught that, did ya?”
Xilonen watched in a daze as she began to unlace the boots on Ethan’s feet. Tremors
shook his hands and knees, moving swiftly through his limbs until his whole body was
shaking. He’d accepted the probability of death on many occasions, had wished for it on
many more, but he’d never prepared himself for the aftermath. Dead was dead, and yet he
was still alive.
“Why?”
Celia glared up at him then shrugged a shoulder flippantly. “Why not? You tried to kill
me a month ago. Thought I’d return the favour.” When Xilonen could do no more than
frown, she stood up and started to pace around the small room. “Night wants me to breed
with you. Something about making future plans in case she burns out your brother. I signed
on to kill you when she was done using you, not have babies. She said if I don’t soldier up
and do what she wants, she’ll frame me. Kill a few Keepers and report me as a halfling
abusing my power.”
“No. I already knew about the ultimatum. She’s been thinking about giving it to you for
days now. I meant, why did you reverse time and bring me back? You could have shot me
and blamed it on one of the others. She never would have known.”
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“Yeah, well, that was the plan.” She knelt down to finish stripping the boots from
Ethan. “Sit down and put these on.”
Xilonen didn’t move. He didn’t know why but he needed an answer.
Celia growled her impatience and sat back on her haunches. “I couldn’t do it, okay?
You’ve gotten under my skin like a bad habit. Like some infectious leech that’s been sucking
out all my well-deserved hatred and infecting me with good intentions.” She shuddered
dramatically. “I should kill you a few more times for that alone.”
A slow grin spread across his face as he realised what she wasn’t saying. The caustic,
jaded-beyond-measure halfling had developed a soft spot for her victim, something she
would never do out of pity. It made him feel…honoured. “You like me.”
“I can’t stand you.”
Xilonen dropped to his knees and hugged her fiercely, not giving her a chance to pull
away. “Thank you.” After a long pause, he felt her pat him on the back awkwardly then
draw back.
“Don’t get all teary-eyed on me now. We still have to get out of here. Put his shoes on.”
As Xilonen fumbled with the boots, adrenalin making his hands clumsy, she opened the door
to peer down the corridor outside. When he joined her, she plucked at his threadbare shirt.
“Grab his sweater. You’re going to need it.”
Xilonen looked at Ethan then shook his head. He could imagine how cold it was outside
but he’d rather freeze than surround himself with that man’s scent. There was something else
he wanted, however.
“Wait.” He strode across the room, punched the asshole in the jaw, then delivered a jolt
of electricity to his body so strong it charred patches of his skin as well as stopped his heart.
“Feel better?”
Not even the painful backlash could diminish the gratification he was feeling. “Much.”
Celia led the way through unlit hallways and down several flights of darkened
stairwells. The shoes were two sizes too big for him but she didn’t comment on the
unavoidable noise they made, which Xilonen took as a sign that the other Keepers weren’t
near enough to worry about for the time being.
“I’ve got a car out back,” she spoke quietly. “I can’t take you to your brother but I can
drop you off in the nearest town.”
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“You know where my brother is?”
“He’s five miles to the west and heavily guarded. You’d never get him out on your
own. Find your mates before you try to go after him.”
They passed through what looked to be a kitchen and out of the exit on the other side.
Xilonen braced himself against the biting chill and ran with her to a dark jeep with wheels
bigger than the doors. He’d barely managed to climb inside when she started the engine and
threw it in gear. Scrambling to buckle his seatbelt, he kept one eye on the rear-view mirror as
they sped down the snow-packed road. The large facility remained dark and after about a
mile, he sat back with a sigh of relief.
“Down!”
Xilonen obeyed instantly as gunfire rang out and the jeep was battered to the side by
another vehicle. They swerved dangerously to the left, fishtailing as Celia tried to regain
control of the jeep. When the tyres met traction, she stomped on the gas and shouted out a
string of invectives.
“They must have been watching me. Probably on Night’s orders. You’re going to have
to make a break for it while I lead them away. There’s an old, abandoned shack about a
quarter mile west of here, towards the mountains. Stay there until dawn then head south to
King Road and hitch a ride to Lewiston.”
Xilonen’s thoughts were spinning. He didn’t want to separate and leave her to deal
with the men chasing them.
“Jump out after this turn up ahead.”
“I can’t leave you.”
“Jump or get thrown. Your choice.” She sped faster while he took his seatbelt off and
poised to jump, not a doubt in his mind that she would follow through with her threat. As
soon as she took the turn and the headlights disappeared from behind them, he opened the
door and leapt from the vehicle. Pain lanced through his bones as he crashed onto the frozen
ground in a hunched ball. He allowed his momentum to roll him off the road and into the
thick brush lining it.
As he came to a stop, he curled in on himself as much as possible to hide from the
second vehicle as it raced past him. When the roar of the engines had faded into the night, he
sprang to his feet and fought his way through tangling bushes and low-limbed oak trees.
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Branches snagged at his hair and clothes, slicing through his exposed skin as he ran. He tried
to find the rugged outline of the mountains but the light of dusk had already fled and it was
nearly pitch black in the dense vegetation.
Too late, he felt a distinct field of energy that didn’t fit in with the nature around him. It
was upon him before he could react. Xilonen grunted as the impact of the man knocked the
air out of him and he was slammed to the ground. Crushing weight pushed him down into
the snow and trapped his arms and legs. In a last-ditch effort to escape, he tapped into his
power and sent forth a surge of electricity, but it wasn’t enough. Hardly more than a simple
shock.
“Fuck. It’s me, beautiful. Didn’t you hear me calling you? Calm down. Shh. It’s okay.”
Xilonen stopped his struggles as the deep bass of Malen’s voice filled his ears. The
soothing flow of his mate’s energy seeped into his awareness like a comforting blanket of
heat. Yet it couldn’t be true. He didn’t dare dream, until moist lips came down on his and
familiar dominance overwhelmed his senses.
When he was finally let up for air, he gasped out, “Sir?”
“I’ll never get tired of hearing that from you. Come on, boy. Turek is waiting.” Malen
lifted him from the cold ground and Xilonen clung to his mate with every ounce of strength
he had left. This might be a dream, but if it was, he’d kill anyone who dared wake him up.
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Chapter Eleven
Malen held his shivering mate tighter as he trudged back to the road through dense
trees and underbrush. He wanted to strip Xilonen down right then and inspect every inch of
his body for injuries but resisted the urge. They were on a sensitive timetable and couldn’t
afford any more delays.
As soon as they broke through the forestry, Turek came running to meet them. “Is that
him? Is he okay?”
“Easy, baby. Get the door for us.”
Turek opened the door to their car and climbed inside, taking Xilonen into his arms and
wrapping him in the coat Jace handed him from the front seat. Malen got in after them, took
off his shirt and used it to dry Xilonen’s hair.
“How d-did you find me?” Xilonen stuttered.
“Jace, turn on the heat. We got a tip from a God. Don’t suppose you had anything to do
with that?”
Xilonen’s blue-tinted lips curved up in a smile. “Chaos.”
Malen grunted. “Collen will be interested to know that. We were about to raid the
building you were in when we saw two of the vehicles leave. Turek was convinced you were
in one of them so we followed. Where were they trying to take you?”
“Nowhere. Celia helped me escape but they were watching her and started chasing us.”
“Who’s Celia?”
Xilonen opened his mouth to answer but Cyaan interrupted him from the driver’s seat.
“Malen, our guys dispatched two men who were standing guard outside and said they
found one more on the top floor but he was already dead. Do you want them to meet up with
the others?”
“Yeah. Call Loken and tell him they’re on their way but make sure they don’t move in
until we get there.”
Cyaan related the orders to the Keepers on the other end of his cell phone then called
Loken. Another car pulled up beside them and Malen rolled down his window as Beth
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jumped out. She was the oldest living member of their convoy and had been the first one to
approach him about making amends. He hadn’t expected much from their meeting. She was
given to logic, not emotional reasoning such as faith. Still, he couldn’t have been more
surprised by her turnaround. After hearing of the attack at Malen’s cabin and Xilonen’s
display of restraint with his power, she had literally laid down the law of their family.
That no man be left to fight alone.
The other members had been given a choice to either lay the blame of the deaths at the
Vishian where it was due or leave the gang. Not a single member had left. It was because of
Beth that more than fifty bikers were hiding outside the mansion where Shayne was being
held, awaiting Malen’s command to move in.
The sturdy brunette leant down to speak with him through the open window. “We
found one of the vehicles flipped over about a mile up the road. The men inside were already
dead. No sign of the other vehicle. We’ve got to move fast in case they managed to contact
Night.”
“It’s Celia,” Xilonen said, leaning over to look at Beth. “She’s still alive but she won’t
tell Night that I’m gone. She’s on our side. What are you planning?”
Beth glanced at Malen who turned to face Xilonen. “We’re going to get your brother. I
want you to go with Turek into town and wait for us at the hotel.”
Xilonen was already shaking his head. “I’m going with you. You can’t keep me out of
this.”
Malen rubbed the bridge of his nose. He’d been afraid of that. There was no time to
argue with his mate. If Night decided to check in on Xilonen and discovered him missing,
she would head directly for Shayne and take him before they could get the kid out of there
safely.
“All right. Looks like we’re all going. Beth, we’ll meet you there.”
Beth hesitated then extended a hand to Xilonen. “Welcome to the family.”
Xilonen drew his brows together in confusion but shook her hand. “Thanks.”
“You should’ve accepted him from the beginning,” Jace said angrily. “We told you—”
“Boy,” Cyaan cut in.
Jace sighed but relented to his mate’s authority. “Sorry, Sir.”
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“It’s okay. I deserve it. I’ll see you there.” Beth gave a cursory nod then jogged back to
her car.
* * * *
Loken and Collen met them at the entrance to the property, just outside the cast-iron
fencing that surrounded the acre of land. From a bag in the trunk, Malen handed out
additional weapons while Loken gave them a rundown of what was going on.
“Carlisle was able to take control of the cameras and wire them to replay one minute of
inactivity continuously but the alarms are run by a different security system. We’ll need Jace
to hack into it before we can go in. We took out the two guards at the front here and it looks
like their only radio is in that office.” Loken pointed to a small security building on the inside
of the gate. “So far there’s been no communication on it. There are nine men in the west
wing, five in the east. We believe Shayne is being held on the second floor of the north wing
with one man outside of his room and four on the bottom floor. Our men are positioned
around the outer perimeter near the exits. I recognised one of the guys here at the gate from
the battle with Mikel. I think it’s safe to assume all of the guards are those who escaped
sentencing.”
“So were the men who held me,” Xilonen said. “I can use my third power to go in
undetected and find Shayne.”
Malen closed the trunk and strapped a gun to the inside of his leg. He hated to bring it
but knew from experience that Mikel’s former followers had no such qualms about using
them. In this situation, it was better to fight fire with fire if it came down to it. “Absolutely
not. You’re staying in the car with Turek.”
“He’s my brother! I have to do this. Besides, you need me in there. Shayne won’t know
it’s us and he’ll probably call on Night once he hears the fighting. I can communicate with
Loken and keep Shayne in his room until Loken lets me know it’s safe to come down.”
“I’ve tried to read your thoughts before, Xilonen,” Loken reminded him. “I couldn’t do
it.”
“I can keep the thoughts of the Gods down, and you’ll be able to hear me if I’m
shouting my thoughts at you. See?”
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Loken jerked back as though struck, then grinned. “Damn, boy. Okay, I believe you can
do this, but I’m not the one you have to convince.”
Xilonen pinned Malen with a pleading expression. Malen stared back, all of the reasons
for denying his mate’s request spiralling through his mind. He hadn’t missed the track marks
on the insides of Xilonen’s arms when he’d handed his mate over to Turek in the car. And,
even in the faint light of the crescent moon, he could see dark circles around Xilonen’s eyes,
the winter coat practically dwarfing his too-thin frame.
Everything in Malen screamed at him to force his mate to stay behind, but Xilonen did
have a valid point. They couldn’t risk Shayne contacting his mother before they were able to
get to him.
“How are you planning on going in?”
Xilonen smiled widely. “I can fade into the night. Travel across any shadow.”
“Can you carry a weapon on you?” When Xilonen nodded emphatically, he handed
him a small revolver. “Only shoot if necessary, and aim for the chest.” He gathered his young
mate into his arms and squeezed, whispering in his ear, “You are my life. Protect it well.”
Xilonen kissed him when he let go then turned to kiss Turek. “I’ll be waiting.” Then he
was gone.
“That’s, uh…quite a power,” Beth said somewhat breathlessly.
Jace grinned at her. “You should see him in action with his other one. He kicks ass.”
Malen cleared his throat. “All right, let’s move in. Jace, let us know as soon as the
alarms are down. Turek and I will join those on the west. Beth”—he dipped his head at the
older Keeper and her two companions—“you and your guys meet the others on the east.
We’ll meet up before we enter the north building.”
They all split up then, with Malen and Turek skirting the left side of the lawn under the
cover of large oak trees until they came to the group of Keepers closest to the west wing.
The mansion resembled a castle more than anything else. Creeper vines rose up from
the thick layer of snow on the ground to carpet the black stone walls and parapets. What
appeared to be lookout towers reached towards the starlit sky on the outer corners of each
wing. All it was missing was a portcullis and moat to complete the ensemble. There was no
doubt in Malen’s mind that Night had designed the place herself.
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Within five minutes, his cell phone vibrated with a message from Jace saying they had
the all-clear. Malen took a quick moment to pull Turek to him and meld their mouths
together, pouring as much possession as he could into the kiss.
When he let go, Turek smiled softly. “I’ll be careful.”
“No more stopping blades with your shoulder.”
Turek tipped his head back in silent laughter as Malen waved his other arm over his
head, signalling the rest to head in.
They kicked in the door and ran towards the main room where they felt the energy of
the men inside. It was almost too easy to overpower them without a single gun being drawn.
Only one man had the presence of mind to attempt to call on Night but the dagger that sliced
open his throat ended his effort almost before it had begun. Malen started to head down a
dark hallway where he’d detected a lone field of energy but stopped short as a group of his
family emerged. One was wiping a knife off on his pants, boasting to the others about his
clean kill.
Malen pulled out his cell phone and dialled Loken who reported similar success on his
side. “Is Xilonen with Shayne?”
“They’re both safe exactly where Xilonen said his brother would be. We’ve already got
twenty men ready to breach the north end. Can I give them the go-ahead?”
“Yes. We’re headed there now. Warn Xilonen that we’re coming in and to stay where he
is until further notice.”
“On it.”
Malen shoved the phone into his back pocket and led the way through an outer bailey
towards the far building. Its doors stood open and lights from every window flooded the
interior. His blade was in hand as he entered through the front but it wasn’t needed. In the
thirty seconds it had taken him to reach the entrance, every single enemy on the first floor
had been taken out.
Two gunshots rang out from the floor above them and Malen took off towards the stairs
with Turek, Collen, Jace and his mates close on his heels. At the top, he turned right down a
long corridor and nearly ran into three of his family members. One of them was still engaged
in beating a man on the ground with the hilt of a blade protruding from his chest while
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another was trying to pull him off, shouting that the man was dead. The third turned to
Malen with a triumphant grin.
“We did it. Damn, that was almost too easy.”
Not almost.
Entirely.
Cold dread settled into the pit of Malen’s stomach at the same time as Loken said,
“Something’s wrong. Xilonen isn’t responding to me.”
Malen glanced back at his friend then strode to the door where he could feel his mate’s
energy calling to him from the other side. Without pause, he drew his gun from its holster,
flung the door open, and came to an immediate halt. Turek gasped beside him as their
friends filed in from behind.
On the other side of the expansive room, Night stood facing them. With one arm
stretched high behind her, hand clenched around Xilonen’s throat and suspending him
against the wall a few inches above the floor, she eyed them coolly.
Xilonen’s lips were painted in blood, his face turning red from lack of oxygen. His gaze
fixed onto Malen’s, blazing rage, but his body hung limply as though paralysed. Shayne sat
awkwardly on a rug in front of a large bureau, tears in his wide blue eyes and an angry
handprint covering one half of his face.
“Well, it’s about time you got here. It would have been a pity if you’d missed the death
of your mate.”
“Mom, please!” Shayne cried. “You’re killing him.”
“That’s the idea, you spineless brat,” Night spat out at her youngest son.
Malen pulled a dagger from his belt and flipped it to pinch the tip between his thumb
and forefinger. It wouldn’t kill the Goddess but it would distract her.
Jace was faster. His black throwing knife streaked towards Night’s head but bounced
harmlessly away several feet from its target, as though it had been intercepted by an invisible
shield.
Night laughed loudly. “So you want to play, do you? Fine. I’ve been dying to show off
some of my new powers.” She released Xilonen who slumped to the floor in a boneless heap,
gulping in air. Rearing back, she kicked him savagely in the ribs.
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Malen charged forwards but froze as Night swept her arm out in a wide gesture that
encompassed them all. His muscles cramped painfully and his joints locked in place. Not
even his voice obeyed his will. Shayne scrambled over to Xilonen but shrank back in time to
avoid Night’s fist.
“Why are you doing this?” Shayne asked, glaring up at his mother.
“You really are as naïve as you are stupid. Although I can’t complain. You’ve given me
so much more than I could have hoped for. Every time you took energy from my brothers
and sisters, you stole a portion of their powers as well, transferring them to me. And the
stupid fools haven’t even noticed! They’re so caught up in enjoying their petty little
existences that they don’t even use a tenth of their power’s potential. For example…”
Night slowly walked over to Loken and trailed a finger over the stubble on his jaw.
“Did you know that I could feel the moment you killed my men at the facility where they
were holding Xilonen? All these millennia and I never realised that the Goddess of Fate could
tell when a Keeper’s life came to an end.” She walked over to Turek and unzipped his jacket
to slide a hand sensuously over his chest.
“Or that Wrath uses a Keeper’s emotions to start the heat he needs to spontaneously
combust his victims.”
Malen ground his teeth as Turek’s eyes bulged and sweat beaded on his brow. Night
came to stand in front of Malen next. She looked up at him and smiled leeringly.
“It’s too bad you’re not a halfling. You would have been the perfect specimen to carry
on my line.”
“Hello, sister.”
Night whirled around to face the newcomer who’d suddenly appeared.
It was the God. Chaos. The one who’d informed them of Shayne’s location. He was
grinning evilly, his imposing figure leaning against the windowsill.
“What are you doing here?” Night snarled.
“Thought I’d pop in and see how my little experiment was going.”
“Chaos!” Shayne jumped up and ran to the God but Chaos turned a glare on him that
brought him to a halt.
“I tire of this. It’s been fun, watching so many lives get destroyed, but now it’s become
tedious.”
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“What are you—”
“Shut up, bitch!” Chaos snapped his fingers and the Goddess stiffened immediately,
mouth slackening and eyes glazing over. “Too bad you never absorbed my power. Oh, that’s
right. You never had a chance to, considering your oldest was the one who begged for my
help right after you kidnapped him. He would never have given you my location on Earth.
And your youngest was so easy to manipulate.”
Chaos turned to Collen. “Did you know that your mate was infatuated with another
man? It was so easy to win his love and adoration. There was no way he would have taken
my energy.”
“Chaos?” Shayne took another step towards the God, confusion creasing his youthful
features.
“Shall I tell you the real truth about your mother, kid? The one not even your brother
knows about? I’m the one behind all of this. I found a halfling and dangled her in front of the
God of Day like a priceless piece of meat, giving them both dreams of love and happiness.
Night became so jealous that she took their baby—your father—and used him to create you
and Xilonen. Over the years, I fed Night illusions of grandeur until she became obsessed with
forcing Day to love her and ruling over the other Gods.”
Shayne shook his head, tears now streaming down his cheeks. “I don’t believe you.”
“Grow up, brat! I thought it couldn’t get any better when she forced your brother to
help Mikel and alienate his own mates, but I was wrong. Watching her con you into giving
her energy and powers was the icing on the cake.”
Balling his hands into fists, Shayne bit out, “Take it back.”
“And lie to you just like Xilonen did to keep you safe? Now what would be the fun in
that? It’s not like you can do anything about it.” Chaos closed the distance between them and
shoved Shayne back. “Cry more for me. Your tears are the culmination of all my hard work.”
He pushed Shayne again as if trying to provoke him. “I am Chaos. This is what I exist for.”
“Stop!”
“Or what? I ruined your life, your mom’s and your brother’s. And there’s not a damn
thing you can do about it!”
“Enough!”
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Malen felt his entire body shift as a vacuous wave of energy swept through the room.
The oxygen was sucked from his lungs and gravity seemed to cease. In the next heartbeat, it
all came flooding back in a thundering crash of noise that pounded against his eardrums.
Chaos’ body shattered in an explosion of shimmering energy that dispersed like the sparks of
a firecracker.
Night stumbled forwards, apparently released from whatever trance she was held in.
“Is it true?” Shayne rasped.
The Goddess took in the absence of Chaos then met her son’s furious gaze. “What
happened? That bastard trapped me in one of his illusions.”
“Did you use me and Xilonen to give you power?”
She sneered at Shayne in disgust. “Of course I did.”
“Would you stop if I asked you to?”
Night tipped her head back and laughed. “I was going to kill Xilonen first and make
you watch, but I think I’ve had enough of your nonsense.” She raised her hand and flung a
bright bolt of energy towards Shayne but, instead of blasting the boy, it spread to envelop his
body and soaked into his skin. She sent another and another, each one cascading over Shayne
with a strong glow before it was absorbed.
“What’s going on? This can’t be. You gave me these powers!” Night shrieked.
“And I can take them back. I’m sorry for what Chaos did to you, Mom, but I can’t let
you do this. I love you.”
The room tilted as a second wave swept through it. A thundering boom nearly
drowned out Night’s scream as her corporeal body fragmented into a million pieces. The
resounding blast was stronger this time, shaking the entire building and sending Malen to
his knees on the floor as the paralysis was lifted.
His ears rang in the ensuing silence. Collen rushed towards Shayne as he wavered but it
was Xilonen who caught him. Gaining his feet once more, Malen walked over to where
Xilonen cradled his brother in his arms. Shayne was out cold, two thin trails of blood
trickling from his nose. Malen knelt beside them, followed shortly by Collen and Turek.
When Xilonen peered up at him through tear-heavy lashes, Malen gently brushed back his
hair and kissed his forehead.
“Let’s go home.”
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* * * *
Malen blinked open his eyes. The room was cloaked in darkness save for the bright, red
numbers on the alarm clock beside the bed. Three o’clock in the morning. He closed his eyes
and tried to go back to sleep but it was useless. His mind was still whirling from the events
of the day.
Gently, he untangled his arms and legs from Xilonen’s warm body and slipped from
the bed. Across the room, he flipped the switch to a small lamp and was about to head to the
bathroom when his gaze was caught by a large Jacuzzi. He looked to the bed where his mates
lay sleeping then back to the Jacuzzi. Turek and Xilonen had both passed out the moment
their heads had hit the pillows. Chances were they’d sleep through just about anything, and
it seemed a shame not to take advantage of the luxurious suite Beth had treated them to
before they were to travel back to New Mexico.
Mind made up, he turned on the faucets, adjusted the temperature then went to the
bathroom. His thoughts strayed to Collen and his young mate resting in the adjoining suite.
Shayne still hadn’t awakened from his ordeal, but he’d been given a relatively clean bill of
health from one of the Keepers in the convoy who practiced medicine. Tane had declared
that the kid would wake up when his mind was good and ready, and not a moment sooner.
Which was amazing, considering what the kid had done.
Cyaan had called on Love earlier, who had confirmed their suspicions. Shayne had not
only absorbed all of the powers Night had tried to use on him, but he’d also taken her
energy—all of it—then cast it out into the vast realms of Earth and Gods, returning the small
measures of powers she had absorbed to their rightful owners. While it was impossible for a
God to die, it would take Night decades, maybe even centuries, to gain back enough energy
to take corporeal form again, let alone use her power. The same went for Chaos. And with so
many witnesses to Night’s treachery, the Gods would be forced to rescind their death decree
on Xilonen.
Malen turned off the water to the Jacuzzi and got in, sinking down into its soothing
depths. After some time, he became aware of a ripple of energy. It was subtle but…arousing.
He opened his eyes to find Xilonen staring at him, standing at the steps to the Jacuzzi in a
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soft cotton T-shirt and flannel bottoms. From the corner of his eye, he saw Turek sit up in bed
but the man made no move to leave it.
Malen and Xilonen watched each other for several seconds. He could tell his mate
wanted to join him but was hesitant. Most likely because of the new scars. Malen had seen
the thin, raised lines marking his back and chest while he’d helped his mate to shower earlier
but hadn’t asked about them. And he never would until Xilonen was ready.
Still, he wanted his mate to have confidence again.
An idea came to mind and he leant back with a sigh. “Damn, it’s nice in here. Hot and
relaxing. I’d invite you in, but I don’t think I love you that much.”
Xilonen’s jaw dropped then snapped back shut. “Yes, you do.”
“Nah, I’ve been thinking about it and I just don’t think so.”
“Yes, you do,” Xilonen said, a little more conviction in his tone.
“No, really. I don’t.”
Turek snickered from the bed but Xilonen didn’t seem to notice. He narrowed his eyes
then started to strip. Sleek muscles were revealed as he took off his shirt. Next went the
pants, and when his jutting cock popped free, Malen reached down to massage his own
aching erection. His mate was simply gorgeous. Slight of frame yet masculine in all the right
areas…and with a personality that both challenged and stimulated him.
Xilonen climbed in and straddled his waist, bringing their cocks together in an
electrifying touch. Malen sucked in a breath as he felt his mate shiver against him.
“Yes. You. Do.” Each word was punctuated by a thrust of his hips.
The friction he was creating drove Malen’s senses into overload. He’d been prepared to
wait days, weeks—even months if necessary—for Xilonen to feel comfortable having sex
again. The Gods only knew what had gone on during his captivity, aside from being beaten.
But this was testing the limits of Malen’s restraint.
He reached up and threaded his fingers through Xilonen’s hair, pulling him closer until
their mouths came together. Xilonen opened for him instantly and he took the offering,
drinking in the intoxicating flavour of his mate. Moving with the swivel of Xilonen’s hips, he
revelled in the feel of the man’s hard length grinding against his.
Breaking the kiss, he said, “Okay, you win. But, as much as I love you, I won’t be able to
stop if you keep this up.”
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“I don’t want you to stop,” Xilonen panted. “I want this. I need you in me.”
Malen growled and brought Xilonen’s mouth back to his but his mate pulled away.
“Turek—”
“I’m right here, baby.”
They both looked up to see Turek bending down, taking Xilonen’s face in both hands
and capturing his mouth in a deep kiss. Turek’s eyes flitted up to his and Malen was pierced
by the hungry desire he saw in them. He recognised that look on his mate. The need to
dominate and control. The only thing sexier than that was the two men in front of him.
Malen dipped his head in acquiescence and Turek smiled as he moved to kneel behind
Xilonen. The water sloshed around them, coming up to Turek’s midsection.
“Lean forwards. That’s it.” Turek pushed on Xilonen’s back as Malen reclaimed their
mate’s mouth. “Gods, you’re beautiful.”
Malen felt more than heard Xilonen’s moan. One of Turek’s arms was wrapped around
Xilonen’s chest, and from the angle of the other, Malen knew Turek was stretching out their
mate’s tight hole.
“I can’t wait to get home and spank this firm little ass until you scream for me.”
Xilonen jerked and shuddered and Malen knew Turek had found his prostate. Fuck, if
Turek kept talking like that, Malen was going to come before he even got inside Xilonen’s
ass. His cock felt like it might explode at any second.
“I want to hear you beg for mercy,” Turek whispered in Xilonen’s ear. Xilonen’s
movements were frantic now, his rhythm lost as he rubbed forcefully against Malen’s
straining shaft, seeking relief. “Turn around. I want to feel your mouth around my cock.”
Turek stood up and Malen helped him lift their mate and turn him around. Before
Xilonen could sit, Malen lined up his cock and slowly pushed into Xilonen’s entrance,
lowering his mate until he was buried to the hilt. Xilonen’s hands flew to Turek’s thighs as
his head was encased in a strong grip and his mouth was filled with Turek’s thick length.
As Turek plundered Xilonen’s mouth, thrusting his cock as far as it would go, Malen
grabbed their mate’s waist and began rocking his pelvis back and forth. The sensation of
Xilonen’s inner ridges constricting his erection was almost too much to take but he kept the
pace slow. Torturous. With one hand, he reached around to grasp Xilonen’s long cock and
started stroking it, squeezing it in strong pulls.
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Malen quickened his hand as Turek sped up. The look on Turek’s face went from
blissful to urgent and when his gaze met Malen’s once again it was full of desperate
pleading. Instead of voicing the command to come, he nodded his head. He didn’t want
Xilonen to come as well. Not yet.
Turek threw his head back and groaned, locking Xilonen’s lips to the base of his cock as
he unloaded his release down their mate’s throat. The moment he slid out of Xilonen’s
mouth, Malen moved both hands back to Xilonen’s waist, lifted him up, then slammed him
back down forcefully. Malen pumped into him furiously, driven by the swamping arousal in
his mate’s energy and the small cries he was emitting.
He could feel his orgasm rushing through him fast and hard. At the last second, he
ground out, “Come, boy. Come for me.” Xilonen’s guttural shout tipped him over the edge.
He added his own shout, jerking as he spilled his seed into his mate’s clenching sheath. His
thoughts scattered as he was enveloped in emotions. Happiness, contentment, but, above all,
love.
When he was finally able to move again, he leaned over to turn off the Jacuzzi then
lifted Xilonen into his arms. Too tired to dry off, he lay down in bed and tucked his smaller
mate into the fold of his body. As Turek lay down on the other side of Xilonen, Malen pulled
him over for a long, languorous kiss.
“You were perfect.”
“Mmm. You love me.”
Both of them looked down at their mate—who had his eyes closed, a look of utter
contentment on his face—and laughed.
“Yes, we do. Now go back to sleep, beautiful.”
Xilonen frowned, eyes opening to look up at them. “He was lying.”
“Who was?”
“Chaos. He didn’t drive Night insane just for the hell of it. It was all her.”
Malen looked at Turek in confusion but his other mate merely shrugged. “Are you
going to tell Shayne the truth?”
Xilonen gave a small, secretive smile. “I’ll leave that to Chaos.”
Malen shook his head but smiled back. “Trouble,” he murmured against Xilonen’s lips.
“Yours,” Xilonen whispered, and snuggled in closer before drifting off to sleep.
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Epilogue
Justice grinned at the woman’s sceptical expression. “You can do this.”
“I can only reverse time as far back as five minutes. Only halflings retain their
memories but it still applies to everyone. I can’t do what you’re asking.”
Taking Celia’s hands in his, he stared down into her dark, brown eyes. “You can do
this,” he repeated. “Besides, you owe me.”
Celia snorted inelegantly. “I could’ve killed those assholes chasing me myself. And
don’t think you intimidate me just because you’re a God.”
“But you find me sexy.”
“That’s beside the point.”
Justice chuckled. Who knew he’d find such an enticing beauty while checking up on his
brother, making sure Chaos hadn’t caused too much trouble with his scheming nature.
“Focus on directing your power to encompass this house, this room. Imagine that it’s a
bubble you’re contracting from the inside.”
Celia huffed but closed her eyes, brow furrowing in concentration.
“Very good. I can feel the flow of time reversing. It’s fighting your restrictions. Hold it
in. Bind it to your will. I’ll take care of the rest.” Justice added his own power, one he rarely
used to pass judgement when it was due, to centre the passage of time on the dispersed
particles of energy that held his brother’s essence. Slowly, they came together over the far
reaches of the Earth until they swirled within the small confinement of the room. At the last
moment, he contributed a considerable amount of his own energy to finalise the act.
A thundering clap sounded, commingled with a raw shout, right before Chaos’
corporeal form popped into existence—naked, shuddering, and crouched on the floor in
front of Justice.
“I did it,” Celia gasped.
Justice smiled at the wonder in her voice. “You did. I’m proud of you.”
The obstinate woman snorted again, her ponytail swishing as she pivoted on her heel.
“I’ll be outside.”
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As she closed the door behind her, Justice turned his attention back to Chaos. His
brother rose shakily to his feet, suspicion darkening his eyes.
“You brought me back.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
Justice paused for a moment, then answered, “I’m not quite sure. You tell me.” Chaos
growled, though there was no threat behind it. “Forgive me, but I have too little patience to
wait centuries to discover the outcome of a puzzle. You lied to that boy. You’ve never given a
damn about your fellow Gods. We’re boring to you. Why would you tell the halfling you
were responsible for his mother’s deviousness?”
Chaos averted his eyes. “This is none of your concern. Hardly worth your time.”
“Humour me.”
After several seconds, Chaos looked back at him and Justice found himself transfixed
by the passion in the God’s eyes—in his energy. In all the millennia of their existence, he’d
never felt that emotion so strongly in the depths of his brother’s being.
“His innocence appeals to me. Shayne truly loves Night. He’s aware of some of her
failings but his love for her is unconditional. It would have destroyed him to find out that she
didn’t return that emotion. I couldn’t allow that to happen.”
“So you took the blame to spare him.”
Chaos nodded.
Justice scoffed at the idea even as his instincts, his integral sense of truth, found no fault
in Chaos’ words.
“Tell me,” Chaos said. “Do you think we are capable of all that we’ve granted our
creation?”
“In terms of love?” When Chaos nodded again, he mulled over the question for a time.
“Yes, I suppose so. We created them in our image. We gave them the ambition to find love
because we hold that very ambition in ourselves. This boy you speak of has far more God
than Keeper in him, and yet you say that his heart is ruled by love. Why do you ask?”
Chaos’ troubled gaze wandered to the gauze-covered window and stayed there. His
energy grew rife with complex emotions Justice couldn’t even begin to sift through. Not from
the God who had always feasted in anarchy.
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Then, eventually, his brother looked back at him with an expression of…pained
acceptance.
“Because he’s my mate.”
Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:
Master of Wrath
Nikki McCoy
Excerpt
Chapter One
Loken plunged his blade into the Keeper’s gut and wrenched upwards until it found a
new home in the man’s heart. Twisting savagely, he watched as the light died from dull eyes,
then yanked the knife free and spun in a crouch. Unfortunately, the only assailants left
standing were too preoccupied to meet the business end of his dagger. He relaxed his
muscles and cleaned his blade on the jacket of his last kill. A nearby boulder—wide, flat and
free of blood—made for a convenient perch on which to watch the remaining Keepers fight a
losing battle.
As always, the woman’s fluid grace and technique was a marvel to watch. Her flowing,
black hair followed the arc of her body through twists and flips like a live extension…as did
the three-foot sword she used to dismember her opponents. There were only two left now
and Loken grinned in amusement as their every attempt to turn and flee was disabled by the
offensive attacks of the ruthless assassin.
Finally realising that escape was futile, the two came up with the brilliant idea to rush
the female together with blunt knives in hand—their guns having been stripped away at the
onset of the fight. The ensuing outcome of that tragic mistake was as predictable to him as
the pathetic pleas of mercy that had spewed from the men’s mouths just moments ago. The
woman feigned surprise by taking a step back and turning around to show them her
vulnerable back, lining them up beautifully.
In one smooth move she made a full-body rotation, bringing the sword up so that
exactly one inch of the tip kissed the tender skin below their jaws. Only when the thud of
their bodies hitting the ground sounded did she turn back to wipe her blade on the shirt of
one of the men before sheathing it in the scabbard strapped to her back.
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With no surrounding cities or mountains to hinder the vast-reaching glow of the full
moon, her flashing smile and exultant eyes were easily seen in the darkness of the night as
she faced him. Loken raised one eyebrow and pointed to a previously fallen Keeper who was
trying in vain to crawl away undetected some distance from them. The woman glanced in
that direction and after drawing a throwing knife from her belt, effortlessly pegged the man
in the back of the neck.
“That was your kill,” she said angrily.
Loken shrugged. “Apparently the stab wound in his shoulder wasn’t enough for him.”
“You’re getting sloppy.”
“Nope. Just keeping you on your toes.”
Kiress snorted and looked at the nine lifeless bodies littering the otherwise peaceful
stretch of desert landscape. “Like this misguided bunch of freaks could give me a decent
challenge. Did you hear the shit that sorry excuse for a Keeper was puking up? Knowing I
have a genetic commonality with these losers makes me want to peel my own skin off.” She
shivered dramatically to emphasise her revulsion.
The Keeper in question, also the leader of the ragtag band of recruiters for the son of
Death, had gone through the same old tired spiel they’d heard from countless other
followers. “Serve Mikel and the God of Death will grant you everlasting favour and power at
his side!” As though empty promises could sway the minds of two people who had just run
them off the road, taunted them from their vehicles then pulled out deadly weapons in an
obvious bid to end their lives.
You had to admire that kind of stupidity. It took talent.
“Loki, we’ve been at this for a year,” she growled. “When the hell are we going to get a
hold of this Mikel?”
Loken stood and sheathed his own blade. “As soon as you quit lopping off the heads of
the leaders long enough for me to get some new information.”
The innocent batting of lashes and parting of heart-shaped lips in shock was adorable
and completely false. Kiress matched him in nearly every aspect. From the striking features
to the volatile attitude and predilection for combat—their only difference being his
ruggedness and penchant for wrath compared to her angelic countenance and penchant for
passion.
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Their bond as fraternal twins ran deeper than any blood relationship he’d seen in his
millennium of existence. Her disarming tactics might still work on their mother, the Gods
only knew why, but he was immune to them. Mostly.
Chuckling, he walked over to take her battle-calloused hand in his. “There’s still a band
rumoured to be passing through Roswell an hour from here. If we find them before the night
ends, I’ll let you kill as many as you want if you save the leader for me. I’ll even let you help
me torture the information out of him.”
Her chagrin turned to bubbling excitement in less than a heartbeat. “You’re on.”
Carefully, he loosened the iron-fisted grip he kept on his wrath, allowing a small
portion he had siphoned from the men at the start to bleed from his psyche and enter into his
sister’s. It was more potent than the average energy people emitted by far.
This transference wasn’t normally necessary. As half-Gods, their abilities far exceeded
those of a Keeper, but the dry, nearly barren state of New Mexico didn’t offer the kind of
wildlife and vegetation needed to restore her energy once she unleashed her power.
At her nod, he resealed the wall around his vicious nature and walked several yards
away. Kiress took a moment to centre her emotions. Long black hair trimmed in a straight
line came to the middle of her back, blending in with the tight black corset and low-riding
leather pants that hugged her lithe, athletic body. Luminescent skin contrasted beautifully
with long lashes and rose-red lips.
Ugly business of ending Mikel’s and his father’s campaign of tyranny aside, he enjoyed
this time spent with his sister. Though they kept in constant contact through their mental
link, they were too much alike to spend long periods of time in each other’s presence.
Over the centuries, they’d sought out wars separately in which to satisfy their personal
cravings—he being drawn to wrath and she to the passion that it created. On the anniversary
of their birthday they would reunite, using that time to visit with their mother. Unbeknownst
to the older woman, they also took that time to tally the scores of their kills and schemes.
Not including the past year, Kiress was in the lead.
With deep blue eyes turned violet in the silvery cast of the moon, she pinned each
corpse with the intensity of her gaze. Bright red flames engulfed the bodies around her in
succession. Within seconds, the consuming tendrils flared then increased in density,
becoming blue while incinerating flesh and bone to a fine, white ash. Chilled gusts of wind
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swept away the stench until all that was left were the remnants of souls lost to the
overambitious dreams of a God.
A sudden explosion rent the air to his right, causing him to flinch in wake of the ball of
fire that launched the Keepers’ SUV several feet into the air. Debris shot in all directions,
coming dangerously close to his Bugatti Veyron. When he was finally certain his car would
survive its near death experience, he shot his twin a threatening glare.
“Just keeping you on your toes,” she threw back sweetly.
Loken opened his mouth to snap a retort but was cut off by the vibration of his cell.
After pulling it from the front pocket of his pants, he frowned as he saw his mother’s
number. She knew they hunted the rebel Keepers at night, having been the one to ask them
to come home and help eradicate the deadly menace to those who chose to live in peace.
Granted, they were overdue for a visit, but it wasn’t like her to remind them during fighting
hours.
“Mom?” Silence greeted him. Suspicion bloomed instantly and he clenched his jaw to
keep the impatience from his tone. “Who is this?”
A gust of breath was blown into the receiver on the other end before a tired voice came
on the line. “I’m sorry. My name’s Ruschard. She never spoke of having living relatives. This
was one of the two numbers I found in her phone and I thought…” There was another sigh
as though the man was pushing through an uncomfortable situation. “I thought that
whoever it was deserved to know.”
The name sparked a memory. His mother, unlike Kiress and him, was a socialite. At
each family gathering, she delighted in keeping them up to date on the lives of her friends.
So caught up would she get in the fondness and occasional bouts of exasperation she held for
them, one might think she was speaking of close family members who couldn’t make it to the
reunion.
He and Kiress didn’t mind. They had long ago learnt to accept the necessity of their
isolation—even cherish it when they heard of some of the harrowing trials others went
through in the name of family. Yet, even after a thousand years, their mother still felt guilty
for not being able to provide the kind of life she’d wanted for her children. She was well
aware of the characteristic traits they’d inherited from their father and speaking of her
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friends was her way of reminding them that they possessed some of her gentle and sociable
genes as well.
Ruschard, if he recalled correctly, was a good friend of Taven, the man his mother had
been seeing for quite some time now. Their relationship wasn’t a true mating but it contained
an abiding love that kept their loneliness at bay until the Goddess of Fate found and guided
them to the people they would be destined to spend the rest of their lives with.
“I know who you are. What happened?”
After another pause, a voice that embodied a wealth of sympathy said, “Taven and
Marissa were killed last night. I called to warn them but I don’t think they were able to leave
in time. Again, I’m sorry.”
There was no moment of respite most people were granted as their minds tried to work
past the shock of losing a loved one. He was well acquainted with the finality of death and
even more so with the violence that came with murder. The barrier which kept the wrath he
absorbed from overtaking his other emotions cracked under the force of his rage.
The only thing that enabled him to regain control was sensing the waves of concern and
reflected anger emanating from his sister. This news would be hard enough on her without
the added turbulence of the emotions she was picking up from him. With great effort, he
suppressed the clawing need to unleash the storm brewing inside him and focused on the
next words that came through the phone.
“We were getting ready to prepare them for dispersal but we can wait if you’re able to
come.”
Rationally, he knew that the man would not have been to blame had he gone through
with the dispersal ceremony without Kiress and himself present. No one knew—had
known—of their existence, and for good reason. But the thought of a stranger scattering his
mother’s ashes while praying to the very Gods who would have killed her children if given
the chance still set his blood to boiling.
“Thank you. My sister and I would prefer to take care of it ourselves. Who killed
them?” He knew the answer. While his kind could be killed by any being—be it God or
Keeper, human or animal—the majority of them were being slaughtered for the very shift in
power he was trying to prevent.
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Ruschard’s voice took on a decidedly harsh tone. “Mikel’s minions. A group of them
came through my city searching for recruits. By the time I got word of it, they’d already left.
So far we’ve counted five deaths and twelve missing from your mom’s town. I’ve alerted
Keepers in the surrounding areas but it’s impossible to know where they’ll strike next.”
The confirmation was both a blessing and a curse. It gave his anger enough purpose
and direction to keep his head above the grief, but it also signified his failure. Though he’d
heard of the power struggle going on between Keepers and the God of Death, he hadn’t
given a shit about it until his mother had asked for her children’s help. Her fear was their
fear, and they would do anything to make her happy. Of all the lives he had saved at her
behest to find and kill Mikel, he had failed to prevent the death of one of the few people he
did care about.
“We’ll be there in four hours.” Ending the call, he met his sister’s troubled gaze and
prepared himself to take the brunt of her passion. “Mom is…gone. They’re holding her body
for us so that we can perform her ceremony.”
“No.”
“We need to leave now.”
“No.”
Loken followed his sister’s retreating form. “We’ll figure out what to do when we get
there.”
“No!” Her scream preceded the kaleidoscope of emotional energy that was hurled from
her body on the wings of a blast of heat and noise like the clapping of thunder. With gritted
teeth, he absorbed as much of it as he could, staggering back under the oppressive weight.
His mind automatically compartmentalised each feeling, quickly storing them away before
they had a chance to steal his sanity.
From his perspective, Kiress had got the raw end of their father’s traits. Wrath was, for
the most part, one-dimensional, but passion was made up of a seething cauldron of emotions
that could easily drown a person with their intensity. Some of the energy spilled over,
resulting in a circle of fire that shot from her body and consumed everything within a
hundred foot radius, himself included.
“Kiri!” He dived to the only patch of ground that wasn’t spitting flames and rolled
around to salvage his clothes and flesh. Grabbing onto an ankle, he yanked hard, catching his
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twin off-guard. She landed next to him in a heap and he took advantage of her momentary
surprise by enfolding her body in his larger one. The physical contact allowed him to drain
her of her violent reserves, leaving only enough energy to sustain consciousness.
“Take it all,” she said through their mental link.
The heartfelt plea was not born of cowardice, but rather strength. They both knew their
limitations, and the fact that Kiress was willing to admit she’d reached hers spoke volumes.
Murderers they may be…but not of the innocent. She would never forgive herself if another
were wrongfully harmed due to her inability to control her powers. Kiress sagged in his arms
as he sapped the last of her energy.
Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about the fire except to disappear before
humans came to investigate. Cradling his sister to his chest, he navigated his way along
sparse patches of dry earth to his vehicle. Once Kiress was secured in the passenger seat, he
began the drive to Pueblo, Colorado, easing up on the gas only when his scanner picked up
on police in his vicinity.
The additional vitality he’d absorbed fairly sparked along his skin, begging to be
released. He would need to, and soon, but it would have to wait until he was alone. He’d
discovered the hard way during his youth the kind of damage large amounts of negative
energy could have on nature and those around him. Desperate to take his mind off his
destination, he concentrated on his prey, going over every detail his mother had informed
them of.
The God of Death had committed blasphemy by impregnating two Keepers. From these
unions he’d created offspring that possessed more powers than any single Keeper or God.
Driven by fear and ignorance, the Gods themselves would have destroyed the babies had
they known about them, as they had every other halfling in history. As it was, one son had
disappeared while the other, Mikel, had been raised in secret to be his father’s protégé. Since
then, Death had used Mikel to implement his plans to gain power over the other Gods.
Keepers naturally absorbed energy from all livings things. That constant influx
revitalised their bodies, granting them immortality, but only so much could be accumulated
at a time. When Keepers reach their capacity, they send the excess up to the Gods, who in
turn use it as their main source of sustenance. If Mikel ever managed to coerce enough
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Keepers to pay homage to his father alone, it would tip the divine scales and leave the other
Gods dependent upon Death for their rations of energy.
After this scheme had been discovered five years ago, the other Gods had stripped
Death of his energy and locked him away in an unknown realm. Mikel, however, had
vanished without a trace. There was no apparent pattern to his occasional sightings. Neither
were there any clues left as to where those Keepers who had made the choice to serve
Mikel—rather than die at the hands of his men—were being held.
Loken knew he was missing something. He’d successfully tracked down people before
with far less information on them. Of course, none of them had been half-Gods like him. Still,
Mikel was reported to be somewhere in his thirties—not nearly enough time to develop
evasion skills equal to Loken’s centuries of experience in tracking. Maybe that was his
problem right there. The father had obviously taught the son. He should be concentrating on
where Death would choose to hide and strike next, instead of Mikel.
Which brought him back to square one. For the first time in his life, he regretted not
bothering to learn more about the Gods his mother worshipped. He knew next to nothing
about any of them.
When they arrived at their destination, Loken placed a light hand on his twin’s cheek.
Slowly, he concentrated inwardly and sought out the few tendrils of positive energy he’d
kept isolated lest they suffocate under the magnitude of the negative. Drawing them to the
surface, he sent them into Kiress, adding his own measure of calming fortitude.
“Wake up, ladybug.”
Deep blue eyes blinked open, containing a wealth of sorrow he would give anything to
remove.
“I don’t want to do this.”
“I know,” he consoled, “but you won’t be alone.”
She huffed and got out of the car. Loken noticed two vehicles parked in the small
driveway and a third along the kerb. One belonged to his mother, the others most likely to
the Keepers who’d discovered her body. The cottage appeared the same as it had been nine
years ago when his mother had moved in. White clapboard siding with colourful beds of
plants and flowers gave it a quaint, welcoming appeal. The front door was opened the
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moment they stepped onto the porch and Loken had to pause at the strong current of
violence and grief that wafted out.
He instantly absorbed it, not wanting it to carry to his sister. It told him more than
words ever could that his mother and her lover had not gone down without a fight. For all
that the woman lived in harmony with the world, she became vicious when it came to her
convictions. His pride in her swelled at the knowledge.
The man who greeted them was portly, with kind eyes that widened at the sudden
alleviation of disheartening energy. “You must be Marissa’s kids. Glad you could make it.
That’s quite some talent you got there. Bill and I had been trying to get rid of the bad energy
in here before you arrived but it was a little difficult. I’m Ruschard. And you are…?”
“Loken. This is my sister, Kiress.”
They shook hands and thankfully dispensed with further preliminaries. “We’ve been
supplying the bod—I mean…your mother and Taven, with low levels of energy. Where will
you be performing the ceremony?”
“Runyon Lake. It’s close and should be deserted at this time. I am aware that Taven was
a good friend of yours, but if it’s okay with you, we would like to perform his ceremony as
well. He wasn’t my mother’s mate, but I know she loved him as one.” The request for
privacy was implied and Ruschard took the hint gracefully.
“I think he would appreciate that. I’ve already sent my prayers to the Gods. We’ll take
our leave then and check on the other deaths.” He looked as if he wanted to say more but
thought against it, for which Loken was grateful. Condolences that did nothing but remind a
person of their loss had never been his cup of tea.
Both men left and he followed the low hum of energy to his mother’s bedroom where
she was laid peacefully alongside her lover. Their hands were intertwined above the cover of
a black sheet. Aside from keeping the bodies from decaying, a constant inflow of energy also
prevented rigour mortis and relaxed the facial muscles. Marissa and Taven may have died
violently, but their expressions reflected a state of blissful tranquillity.
No words were needed as he and his sister carried the couple to the cars. Loken took
Taven in theirs while Kiress took Marissa in their mother’s car. At the lake a small, cherry-
oak fishing boat tied to a pier provided a sufficient funeral pyre for the two, once he’d ripped
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out the bench seats. Additional guilt rode him hard. Not for the theft, but for the fact that his
mother deserved so much better for her ceremony than what was on hand.
Kiress stood stoically a short distance away as he laid Marissa and Taven side by side
on the make-shift raft then gave it a smooth shove. Gentle ripples in the otherwise placid
water carried it towards the centre. Grasping his sister’s hand and giving it an encouraging
squeeze, he watched as the boat ignited in a blazing gust of flame. For the woman who had
sacrificed so much of her life to grant him his, he broke his lifelong renouncement of the
Gods and prayed for her soul, as he was sure his sister did.
When the last finger of flame licked upon the surface of the lake, fading plumes of
smoke dissipating in the predawn air, he lifted Kiress’ hand and kissed her knuckles.
“You should stay here and take care of her possessions.”
“Don’t pull that big brother bullshit on me,” she snapped. “Thirty seconds never
bought you higher authority in the past. It damn sure ain’t going to now.”
Loken chuckled and shook his head. It had been worth a shot.
“So what do we do now, Loki? We’ve been chasing Mikel’s goons for a year and he’s
always one step ahead. I can’t understand how he can disappear just minutes after someone
reports a sighting.”
“Like Elvis.” He grunted as a pointy elbow made sharp contact with his ribcage. He
supposed he deserved that. It had been meant as a joke but the retort to her words struck a
chord he hadn’t considered before. “Wait a minute. You might be on to something. We’ve
been running in circles trying to follow leads and yet attacks are happening almost
simultaneously around the country.”
“But he’s reported to be associated with several of those attacks.”
“But he’s never there. Maybe we should start looking in the places where he isn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it. He can’t risk getting caught and yet he’s exposing himself like an
amateur. He wants us to underestimate him. It seems to me the safest place for him to be is
where he’s not. Which states has there been the least amount of sightings in?”
Kiress gazed up at the cloudless, slate blue sky as she pictured the US map she’d been
marking to keep track of Mikel’s progress. “California, Texas, Florida and I think Nevada.”
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“All high population areas with plenty of uninhabited, surrounding lands. It would be
easy for him to set up base without drawing attention.”
Understanding lit a spark in his sister’s eyes. “Or bas-es. If we’re going to appoint him
intelligence, then it would be smarter to have several fall-back locations instead of only one.”
“True. Let’s start at the one in California and go from there.”
“Uh-uh,” she objected. “You go to California. I’ll hit up Nevada.”
“Kiri…”
“We both know this will go faster if we split up. I’ll take Mom’s car and call you if I find
anything.”
There was no point in arguing. Her pigheadedness knew no bounds. So he tried for
guilt. Wrapping her in a tight embrace, he said, “If you find him, please wait until I get there.
I can’t lose you as well.”
With an exasperated sigh, she pulled back to glare at him. “Fine, but I get the kill.” At
his nod, she gave him a peck on the cheek then headed for Marissa’s car, mumbling, “When I
get a hold of him, I’m gonna rip his ass open so wide he’ll be able to see it when his eyeballs
drop out of the hole. I’ll dance his pathetic corpse right on up to his father and serve him the
abomination he wrought piece by piece. Take that back to your hell-realm, you spineless,
pitiful, reject motherfu—”
The slam of the car door cut off the rest of the sentence and Loken had to grin as tyres
squealed and the car was propelled down the narrow dirt road. He cast one last glance out
over the lake. Though not a single trace was left to mark the ceremony of his mother, the fire
that had consumed her flesh would be forever etched in his mind.
About the Author
I have always been a lover of books, particularly those with the dichotomy of the strong
alpha male and the weaker love of their life whom they must rescue. After reading all I could
find in M/F books, I decided to give M/M fiction a try and my addiction skyrocketed.
Hot, sexy men times two? No contest. Unfortunately, I was reading faster than the authors
could produce. Eventually, I resorted to imagining my own stories and my mind took off
from there.
I have to admit, though, I am a bit of a recluse. If not for the joy and humour my husband
and four boys bring to me, I would never have ventured this far.
Email:
Nikki McCoy loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and
author biography at
.
Also by Nikki McCoy
Keepers of the Gods: Son of Death
Keepers of the Gods: Master of Wrath
Total-E-Bound Publishing
www.total-e-bound.com
Take a look at our exciting range of literagasmic™
erotic romance titles and discover pure quality
at Total-E-Bound.
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