Love Eternal

by Nikki McCoy

  Then, when Rowan had entered the kitchen and caught them unawares, Tailor had pulled away as if appalled by what he’d done. In the wake of the embarrassment and rejection, Dhani had run.

  Later, when he’d recited the spell to bring his best friend Keenan back to life, a part of him had still clung to the hope that he could help Tailor love again, even in the face of his own death.

  Now, however, that hope seemed like a fool’s dream. Tailor would never get past his devastation over the death of his first mate, and Dhani would never be the man Tailor truly wanted.

  The man with the piercings came out then, followed by the red-headed woman. “I gotta say, your balls are a hell of a lot bigger than I gave them credit for,” he said to Tailor. “I’ve never seen an Alpha ready to piss his pants like that, and I’ve killed more than my share during the war between our kind. You ready to take your mate home now?”

  Unbridled rage stole the last of Dhani’s patience. He met Tailor’s tempered gaze with fierce resolve. “He’s not taking his mate anywhere. That man died years ago, didn’t he?”

  A flicker of wounded resignation entered Tailor’s eyes, but Dhani ignored it. During his months on end of torture, the dream that his mate might still be out there searching for him had been all that’d kept him going. Then, when Tailor had been ready to kill to protect him, his fantasies had become a reality.

  For a very brief moment.

  The guilt that remained thick in Tailor’s energy gave Dhani pause. Tailor had stood up for him, defended him. Only Dhani couldn’t bring himself to settle for being second best, despite how damaged he was.

  “Dhani,” Tailor began stiffly, “don’t do this. Neither one of us was given a choice in being mated.”

  Given a choice? Given a choice?

  Fury surged through Dhani’s veins and the anger he’d suppressed over all the injustices in his life boiled to the surface. He pointed at Tailor, then at the other man, saying, “Fuck you, fuck him and fuck this whole Gods-damned realm! I won’t go with you just because you think you’re obligated to protect me. I survived a whole year in a pit of hell I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. If you think I’m going to let you tell me what to do, you can go screw yourself. I’m not your mate. I’m not the one you want.”

  He swallowed the tears burning his throat and tried to still the tremors shaking his entire body. A small part of his brain told him he was being irrational. That Tailor didn’t deserve his hatred. But a larger part of him screamed at the audacity of Miel Se Luuda tying them together as mates. What right did she have to link him to a man who’d already given his heart to another? Hadn’t he suffered enough for one lifetime?

  The man with the piercings threw up his hands. “Whoa, little guy. I know Tailor’s ugly puss is enough to make a runway model sign up to be a nun for the rest of her life, but don’t go blaming me for that. I’m just the man sworn to keep his ass alive so he can piss you off.”

  “Cy, not helping,” Tailor ground out.

  “Oh, you want me to help. In that case, run Dhani. Somewhere out there’s a man who can love you with the brain in his head, not the one in his—”

  Tailor pulled the gun from his side holster and aimed it at the man’s head. “Finish that sentence and you won’t have a brain.”

  Almost simultaneously, Cy drew his own gun and faced off with Tailor. “I guess we’re gonna find out who has the bigger balls.”

  Alarm diverted the anger in Dhani to the new threat and he jumped in front of Tailor, barricading his mate with his own body. “Stop! Don’t kill him.”

  Tension clogged the air, mingling with Dhani’s primal instincts and something else. Something alien that reared up within him. It was dark, chaotic and thrashing against his soul to be let loose. It thirsted for death, building inside him until his blood raced and skin burned with the need to release it. His palms blazed with energy that didn’t belong to him. It was an infection, growing more powerful with his anger until he didn’t think he could control it any longer.

  Then Cy flipped his gun and holstered it. “Seems Tailor isn’t the only one who wants to protect his mate out of obligation.”

  His own words being thrown back at him shook Dhani into awareness. He had been ready to protect Tailor, whether his mate wanted it or not. The irony of that knowledge dispelled his anger, but the darkness was still there, hammering at his resolve. It intensified with his effort to force it under his control, beating at his temples with nauseating impact. He looked down at his palms and saw blue sparks dancing over his skin, then fisted them tightly.

  As he turned to meet Tailor’s gaze, the earth tilted and blood rushed to his head with dizzying speed. Just before his knees gave out and the world went dark, he felt Tailor’s arms catch him and the deep tenor of his mate’s worried voice calling out his name.

  Chapter Three

  “You’ve been pacing for thirty minutes now,” Manning said. “You’re starting to make me nervous. Get a beer, or better yet, get a bottle of whiskey.”

  Tailor suppressed a snide remark and continued to pace the length of the hallway on the second floor of his cabin. Manning was more than his Jaes’din. They were best friends and had seen each other through bad times and worse. The man deserved better than the short end of his temper, though at this point, Tailor was finding it next to impossible to rein in.

  “I don’t need whiskey. I need to know whether my mate is alive or not.”

  “He’s alive. If anything’s changed, the doc would’ve let us know by now.”

  Tailor glanced down at Manning where he sat in the hall with his back to the wall. They were similar yet different in so many ways. Both shared the characteristic tan skin and toned physiques of the warriors of their kind. Manning, however, had trimmed black hair and black eyes to Tailor’s blond waves and blue eyes.

  They also differed in their personalities. As leader of the Ba’Kal, Manning had earned the respect of his people through the stable and responsible traits of his nature, whereas Tailor had almost always been carefree, even reckless at times. He didn’t care what anyone thought of him and didn’t give a damn about authority. All that had ever mattered to him was his loyalty to those he cared about.

  And right now, one of those few was lying in a bed, unconscious and beyond his ability to care for.

  Tailor raked his hands through his hair. “Four days, Manning. My mate has been in a coma for four days. What if this is an aftereffect of being trapped in that realm with Roh Se Kahn? What if he never wakes up?”

  “Then we’ll find out just how charming you are and see if true love’s kiss will break the spell.”

  Tailor sneered at Manning on his next pass, not at all impressed by his sense of humor.

  Manning shrugged with a half-grin. “Worth a shot.”

  Tailor stopped when he saw Laya enter the hallway from the staircase at the far end. She looked good in snug clothes with her hair pulled back in a braid, though the bags under her eyes told him she hadn’t gotten any more rest than he had since Dhani had passed out at the Alpha’s mansion.

  To her credit, her story that she was only there out of concern for her son had held true over the past several days. Which was fortunate for her, considering Tailor would’ve kicked her out of his house at the first sign of betrayal. The only times she’d left had been to get food and supplies in the community Tailor resided in with Manning. She hadn’t even wanted to pick up her car from the location where they’d met for fear of being absent when Dhani woke up.

  She nodded in greeting to Manning, then looked to Tailor. “How is he?”

  “Not sure,” Tailor replied grimly. “Doc hasn’t come out yet.”

  As if on cue, the door to the bedroom Tailor had given Dhani opened and the community doctor came out. Quinn, Manning’s mate, came out as well and shut the door behind him. Quinn was a good-looking man around Dhani’s age with the same slim build and long hair, although his was as black as a clear, midnight sky.

  The doctor
closed his medical bag and met Tailor’s gaze with a sigh. “There’s been very little change. His heart rate and blood pressure are still extremely low, but his reflexes are fine. There’s no sign of brain trauma and his temperature is normal.”

  Tailor shifted nervously. “When do you think he’ll come out of the coma?”

  “I’m not sure this is a coma anymore. His body is…not reacting like that of a coma patient. While his oxygen levels are fine, there’s been no need for a catheter and if what you’re telling me is true, he hasn’t defecated either. His body is also rejecting the IVs I’ve tried giving him for fluid and dietary supplements. He should be suffering from severe dehydration by now, but he seems to be fine. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Then why isn’t he waking up?” Tailor asked through clenched teeth, unable to stifle his irritation at the helplessness of the situation.

  Before the doctor could answer, Quinn intervened, “Thanks, Doc. We’ll see you in a few days for another checkup.”

  The doctor nodded gravely then headed for the stairs. When he was gone, Quinn looked to Tailor. “I need to speak with you alone.” He glanced with meaning at Laya, who shook her head adamantly.

  “He is my son. I deserve to know everything you do.”

  Quinn looked back to Tailor and only continued when Tailor nodded. “I’ve been talking with Cher, our historian. She thinks Dhani’s condition may be due to the realm he was in. The spell that was used on Roh Se Kahn didn’t necessarily banish him to a different realm. It merely revoked his ability to take any physical form in this world. Since his essence can’t be destroyed, the only alternative was for it to be forced out of this realm and into another.

  “The realm Roh Se Kahn went to would have to have been one that could contain essences with no physical forms. In Dhani’s case, that would mean his body would’ve been held in stasis while his mind and soul were still active.”

  “I don’t understand,” Tailor said, shaking his head.

  Quinn bit his lower lip. “It means that his body was held in suspension. It didn’t age, didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, but Dhani’s brain still registered all the effects of his hibernation. For example, when you get hungry, your nerves relay the message to your brain which then gives you the impulse to eat and if you don’t, you feel the pain of starvation. Dhani’s brain has been receiving all those messages, but his body hasn’t been able to respond.”

  Tailor’s blood ran cold at the significance of what Quinn was telling him. “Do you mean Dhani has been starving and unable to sleep for the past year?”

  “Essentially…yeah. I think when you found him at the Alpha’s house, he was running on pure fumes.”

  “What does that have to do with his condition now?” Laya asked.

  “His body is trying to get used to functioning again. It’s slowly coming out of hibernation and catching up on the sleep it needed. I have a feeling he’ll be able to start eating again once his metabolism speeds up and returns to normal.”

  “Dear Mother,” Laya breathed. “Having full awareness and going for that long without food or sleep is enough to drive a person insane.”

  Quinn kept his gaze on Tailor. “It is. We won’t know more until he wakes up. Tailor, you should know, he’s not going to be the same man you once knew.”

  Tailor swallowed past the dryness in his throat, his mind still trying to grasp the enormity of his mate’s situation. The words, I can’t lose him. I can’t lose him again, circled endlessly through his mind. Although Dhani had misinterpreted those words when he’d said them outside the Alpha’s mansion, he had no doubts as to who he was thinking of. The death of his first mate had devastated him, but that was in the past. Dhani was all that mattered to him now.

  Dhani was his mate—his life—and having a mate before him only made Tailor more aware of how precious a gift Dhani was to him.

  He nodded absently. “I understand.”

  “I don’t think you do,” Quinn said with a tortured note in his tone. He glanced at Laya again, as if unsure he should keep talking in her presence, then back to Tailor. “Dhani was in a realm filled with the essences of beings that were probably almost as vicious as Roh Se Kahn. While his body was in stasis, his own essence would’ve been unprotected from them.”

  When Quinn’s voice became tight and his eyes shimmered with moisture, he glanced at his mate. Manning stood and went to Quinn, wrapping his arms around the smaller man. They shared a very private look, then Quinn met Tailor’s gaze again. “You know that I was held prisoner and raped repeatedly for four years.”

  Tailor dipped his head in acknowledgement. He recalled Quinn’s history and his importance to their race. Quinn had been the chosen one meant to unite the Vam’kir and Ba’Kal and bring about the race both had originated as, the Bassen’kir. His father, the former Magnique, had sought to use Quinn’s power to annihilate the Ba’Kal by bonding Quinn to a Vam’kir of his choosing. Since the ritual of bonding required sex, Quinn had been the victim of rape for the length of time his father had kept him prisoner.

  The memory of Quinn’s story brought chills to Tailor’s flesh. There could only be one reason why Quinn was referring to his imprisonment while discussing Dhani’s past.

  Quinn took a deep breath. “Being raped is like feeling a thousand demons rip through your soul, trying to tear you apart. There is no shelter, no escape. Dhani wouldn’t have been able to protect himself from the other essences, let alone Roh Se Kahn. That may have damaged him irreparably.”

  Tailor walked to Dhani’s door and put his hand against it, feeling Dhani’s faint energy on the other side. He closed his eyes and bowed his head as guilt, hard and swift, speared him. He knew of Dhani’s past, of the suffering he’d gone through as a child. The knowledge of what Dhani had suffered while with Roh Se Kahn made bile churn in his stomach.

  Yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss he’d shared with his mate outside the Alpha’s mansion. It had been full of passion and desire. And when Cy had pulled his gun on Tailor, Dhani’s first response had been to protect him.

  There was still good in his mate. No matter the circumstances of Dhani’s imprisonment, he wasn’t insane.

  Tailor was sure of it.

  He met Quinn’s gaze, and said in a ragged voice, “He’s my mate. I won’t give up on him…ever.”

  His answer seemed to satisfy Quinn who gave him a bittersweet smile. “I know you won’t. I’ll call you if I learn anything else.”

  “Let us know if his condition changes,” Manning said quietly, then left with his mate.

  In the ensuing silence, Laya stared at the door to Dhani’s room. “This is my fault,” she said softly. “Maybe if I had taken him on the run with me, I could’ve kept him safe.”

  “That depends,” Tailor replied in an acerbic tone. “Was your mate a child-beating pedophile like the foster father you abandoned your son to?” He instantly regretted his harsh words, but he couldn’t get the image of Dhani being violated out of his mind, physically or spiritually. The hatred he felt wasn’t even aimed at Laya. He was cursing himself for his own stupidity. It was he who had rejected his mate instead of being there to support him.

  If he had only gotten past his own selfish pain, he might have—

  A small sob pulled him from his thoughts and he saw streaks of tears staining Laya’s cheeks. She shook her head and let out another wrenching sob. Her shoulders were slumped and forehead creased in disbelief, so at odds with her usual unyielding countenance.

  It was then that Tailor accepted the truth she’d been trying to give him all along.

  She hadn’t known the hell she’d delivered her son into years ago. She wasn’t a spy or a traitor. She was simply a mother who had tried to give her son the best future she could.

  No one could fake the hurt and shame emanating from the woman in rolling tides. Tailor would know. He’d learned from the best.

  He cursed inwardly then walked to Laya and enfolded her in a tight embrace,
rocking gently to soothe her. In this vulnerable state, she seemed nothing like the hard-as-nails woman he’d grudgingly accepted as part of Dhani’s life. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure if you knew.”

  She jerked out of his arms and punched him in the chest. “What do you mean, you weren’t sure? You think I would willingly put my son through that?”

  And…there she is, he thought with a small grin. “Come on. I think we could both use a drink right about now.”

  He led the way to the kitchen on the first floor and filled two tumblers with whiskey.

  Laya downed hers then gestured impatiently for a refill. Tailor chuckled and filled her glass again, then sat down with her at the breakfast table in a corner of the kitchen. Several minutes passed as they nursed their liquor, then Laya gulped back her third glass and served herself a fourth.

  “So, my son was abused”—she said matter-of-factly—“by the man I gave him to.”

  Tailor peered over, taking note of the way her skin had turned ashen and her eyes had become red and swollen. For a brief second, he thought about telling a white lie to ease the brutality of the truth, but they were too alike. He knew she wouldn’t appreciate a lie any more than he would.

  “After Dhani was taken by Roh Se Kahn,” Tailor began, “I investigated further into his past on the off-chance it would lead me to any clues on how to find him. I discovered that his foster father had beaten his foster mother to death five years ago. After that, an investigation had begun and the man had stood trial for the alleged rape and assault of several minors prior to his wife’s death.

  “None of the accusations dated back before the year 2006, however, which was the same year Dhani ran away from home at the age of seventeen. His foster father was found guilty and put to death shortly after his trial, so I didn’t have a chance to interrogate him about Dhani, but I didn’t have to.” Tailor took a long draw from his glass then set it down to stare at the golden liquid.