Love Eternal

by Nikki McCoy

  He found a staircase leading to the ground floor and, despite the lethargy that still dragged him, couldn’t help but become mesmerized by the beauty of the expansive house. Or rather, cabin. There was not a single sheet of drywall or plastic panels in sight. Every wall and floor in each room he passed consisted of hard-wood logs polished to perfection. Most of the furniture was also made of wood and appeared to be antique.

  All of it, from the intricate rugs on the floors to the old-fashioned fireplaces and tapestries hanging on the walls, was like a picturesque scene from a wealthy person’s villa constructed two centuries ago.

  Everything seemed so incongruous with the playboy attitude he knew his mate was known for. It made Dhani wonder whether Tailor had inherited the cabin from his parents.

  When he eventually found the kitchen, he almost changed his mind about washing his own dishes. The sink was gold-inlaid porcelain mounted by granite countertops. A wood-fueled stove restored to mint condition sat opposite it and cast-iron lanterns were affixed to the walls, filled with oil and wicks. It was all so old-fashioned, he was afraid he might break something.

  Carefully, he washed his dishes then set them to dry. Through one of the windows, movement drew his attention. Three men stood at a distance from the cabin. They were all bare-chested with long swords in their hands glinting in the bright sunlight. Dhani recognized Tailor instantly from his waves of golden hair. Then the men lifted their swords and began attacking each other.

  Alarm gripped Dhani and he ran back through several rooms to a back door he’d seen previously in an indoor patio. He paused at the glass door, ready to protect his mate, until the movements of the three men took on a distinctive pattern. They weren’t fighting. They were sparring, he realized.

  One of the men was covered in what appeared to be Celtic tattoos. Dhani made out the multitude of piercings on his face and recognized him as Cy, the man who had threatened Tailor at the Alpha’s house. Apparently, the two had worked through their differences. The third man with short, black hair was vaguely familiar, but Dhani couldn’t focus on him. Instead, he was held mesmerized by his mate.

  Tailor moved unlike any warrior Dhani had ever seen. The sword in his hands seemed to weigh nothing as he wielded it with amazing power and speed. His motions were graceful and lithe, as though he was moving in a calculated dance rather than fending off his opponents. Even from where Dhani stood, he could see the clear definition of Tailor’s muscles rippling beneath tan skin. The man’s body was a work of art, sinuous and far too tempting.

  Dhani felt arousal spark in his blood as he watched his mate. Tailor was magnificent in every aspect. It was no wonder women had flocked to him at even the slightest hint of his attention.

  A flicker of insecurity passed through Dhani. There was no way he could compete with his mate’s natural beauty. Tailor was the stuff fantasies were made of, and he was, well…him. Skinny and small with no traits or value that set him apart.

  “I know that feeling,” a voice said from behind him.

  He turned and smiled widely at the familiar face staring back at him. It was Quinn. For the first time since being forced back into the human realm, he felt the burden of his secret lift and simple joy spread through him. He reached out and hugged his friend tightly. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “And you,” Quinn said with laughter in his voice. “Tailor called a little while ago to let me know you were awake.”

  A year ago, when Dhani had arrived with Keenan at the Jaes’din’s community, he’d been sick with pneumonia. Quinn had kept him company during the long days of his recovery. Although they’d only known each other for a few weeks, they’d become good friends. Quinn was so much like Keenan, non-judgmental and fierce in his loyalty.

  When they drew apart, Quinn tilted his head in the direction of the three men outside. “You were thinking you don’t deserve your mate, weren’t you?”

  Dhani frowned. “Sort of. How did you know?”

  “Because I thought the same thing when I first saw my mate half-naked with more muscles than the man had a right to,” he said, pointing to the man with short, black hair.

  Dhani’s brows lifted as the identity of the man dawned on him. It was Manning, Quinn’s mate and Jaes’din of the Ba’Kal. The leader Tailor was sworn to protect as Manning’s personal guard.

  He thinned his lips in cynicism. While it was apparent Quinn was trying to give him confidence, their mates weren’t entirely the same. “Did your mate also have a reputation for sleeping around?”

  Quinn grinned wryly. “Point taken, but when Manning found me, he was looking for a female mate. That didn’t exactly give us the best start. He’d never been with a guy before. Hell, he didn’t even know how to date me. At least you can be sure Tailor won’t have a problem with you being male. You’ve heard about his first mate, right?”

  Dhani nodded as he continued to watch Tailor. “He told me his mate died years ago before they could bond, and that’s why he’s never wanted to be with another man again.”

  “Then you know how hard it must be for him to have found you.”

  “I know,” he said in a hard tone. “I was there every time he rejected me because I’m not the man he loved.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  Dhani tore his gaze away from Tailor. “What do you mean?”

  Quinn sighed and sat down on one of the patio chairs, gesturing for Dhani to sit next to him. “I’d always thought Tailor didn’t care about anything except his position as Ketai. He always had a smart-ass comment about everything. To tell the truth, it kinda got on my nerves. The only time he wasn’t making a joke was when he was in battle. During those times, I noticed he had no emotions at all. Like he was a killing machine with no thought or feeling.”

  Dhani remembered his discussion with Tailor earlier. How Tailor’s energy had seemed to disappear when Dhani had upset him.

  “I asked Manning one day why Tailor was like that,” Quinn went on. “He told me Tailor hadn’t always been carefree. Tailor’s father had been a psychopath. A man who’d lived and breathed his hatred for the Vam’kir. One day, Tailor’s mother had shown up on his doorstep when Tailor was only two weeks old and told him she didn’t want to care for a bastard child from a one night stand with him. Instead of giving Tailor up for adoption, which would’ve been merciful, the guy kept him.

  “He saw Tailor as the perfect opportunity to create a soldier in his image. The art of killing was drilled into Tailor before he could walk. Manning said when they were growing up, there wasn’t a single time he saw Tailor without bruises or broken bones. When he’d ask about them, Tailor would only shrug, saying he’d made the mistake of showing emotion. Happiness, anger, it didn’t matter. Tailor’s father tried to beat it all out of him to fashion him into a living weapon.”

  Dhani swallowed heavily. He thought back on his own past, of the abuse he’d suffered from his foster parents. His life had been a nightmare until he’d run away, but there had also been times of joy and kindness among the friends he’d had. Surely Tailor had some good childhood memories with Manning.

  When he asked, Quinn merely shook his head. “Tailor’s version of a friend at the time was someone he didn’t want to kill. Manning had never seen him smile. He wasn’t even sure if Tailor knew how to. Then Tailor found his mate and for the first time in his life, took a break from fighting the Vam’kir. His father was furious, but he didn’t care. He fell in love with his mate immediately. Two weeks later, their community had been raided by a band of Vam’kir.”

  “Is that how Tailor’s mate died?” He tried unsuccessfully to keep the sadness from his tone. He would never have guessed the violence of Tailor’s past. It seemed so unreal, that the man had been denied even the right to feel emotions. What must it have been like?

  Quinn shook his head. “No. Tailor left afterward in search of the group of Vam’kir, determined to kill every last one of them, despite the fact that his mate begged him to
stay. After a week with no luck, Tailor went back and inadvertently led a different group of Vam’kir to his community. They attacked and killed nearly everyone. Tailor had told his mate to run, but at the end of it, there was no sign of his mate anywhere. Tailor had to accept the fact that his mate had been murdered.

  “Tailor’s father had also been killed during the second attack. Since then, Tailor hasn’t cared about anything. All he had left in the world was Manning, so he agreed to become Manning’s Ketai and swore never to love again. On the outside, he was the most laid-back, happy-go-lucky guy you could ever meet, but inside, there was nothing. Until he met you.”

  Dhani frowned. “He doesn’t want to love me. He told me that a year ago.”

  “He was afraid to feel emotions again,” Quinn replied gently. “He still is. All those women he slept with were just a distraction to keep him from reverting back to the unfeeling soldier his father had molded him into. When you were gone, he became that soldier again. He left to hunt down what remained of Roh Se Kahn’s followers in search of you. He refused to keep in touch with any of us. That’s why Rowan asked Cy to watch over him six months ago. We were all afraid he’d get himself killed trying to find you.”

  Chills raced over Dhani’s flesh. Tailor had tried to find him? It didn’t make sense. The man had been so forceful in rejecting him before. Could what Quinn was suggesting be true, that Tailor really did want him?

  As if in answer, Quinn said, “He needs you. He needs to learn how to love again.”

  Dhani wanted to believe that more than anything, yet he couldn’t bring himself to trust in something he’d given up on a long time ago. More than that, he knew he had no future with Tailor. Not with the sliver of Roh Se Kahn’s soul growing stronger inside him with each passing day.

  He stood up to look out on his mate, heart aching with the injustice of the situation. The memory of Tailor had been all that had kept him sane during his imprisonment. Now that Tailor was finally right there in front of him, it was he who would have to reject the man in the end. It was the only way he could keep Tailor safe. But maybe it didn’t have to be as painful as before. If he could find a way to show Tailor how to love again, maybe his mate would learn to find happiness after Dhani was gone.

  Maybe…

  Chapter Five

  The sun was starting to set when fatigue finally wore at Tailor’s muscles. He lowered his sword when Manning held up a hand to catch his breath. He knew his friend would continue to spar with him for as long as it took for Tailor to work through his issues. It wasn’t the first time they’d spent hours on end in combat.

  Growing up, Manning had been the only one to understand the cathartic release Tailor got from sparring. It helped him to focus and clear his mind of emotions he didn’t know how to handle. When Manning had arrived that morning after Tailor had called to say Dhani was awake, he’d sensed something was wrong. Without a word, he’d gone to the weapons room in Tailor’s cabin, chosen a sword, then walked with him to the backyard to begin sparring.

  Tailor was grateful for his friend’s silence and Cy’s willingness to join them. Although he hadn’t confided in Cy the reasons for his difficulty with emotions, the man had never questioned him. Another thing he was grateful for.

  Tailor still couldn’t erase from his thoughts the edge of anger that had been in his mate’s voice earlier. Dhani had every right to despise him for his reputation, and for pushing him away after they’d met. The alienation of his mate was a mistake he’d replayed in his mind over and over again since Dhani’s capture. He would do anything to take back his actions and restore the faith Dhani had once given him blindly. Only, he had no idea where to start.

  He shook his head when Manning prepared for another round. Cy stood from where he’d been resting on the ground near them, ready to switch off with Manning again.

  “I’m done,” Tailor said. “Go home, both of you. I’m sure your mate’s missing you,” he told Manning, then said to Cy, “I’ve already informed Rowan of Dhani’s return. You should go back to your king. I’m sure he’s missed you by now.”

  Manning met his gaze with concern. “Will you be all right?”

  Tailor mustered a small smile and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for coming. I’ll, uh… I’ll call you in a few days.”

  Manning continued to stare at him as if trying to gauge the truth of his promise, then picked up his shirt and left.

  Cy grabbed his shirt as well, then clapped Tailor on the arm as he walked by. “I’ll make myself scarce for the night while you talk to your mate. See you in the morning.”

  “I said go home,” Tailor called out after him.

  “This is my home until I know you’re going to pull through,” Cy yelled without turning around. “You got a problem with that, take it up with Rowan.”

  Tailor growled as he snatched up his own shirt. He knew exactly what Rowan would say and the pointlessness of having that conversation. It was at times like this he regretted making friends at all.

  He went inside to his room and took a shower in the adjoining bathroom. After getting dressed, he steeled himself to knock on Dhani’s bedroom door. He still had no clue how to handle his mate, but he’d gone for hours without seeing Dhani and the urge to reassure himself his mate was safe was more than he could suppress.

  When no answer came at his knock, he went inside only to find the room and Dhani’s own bathroom empty. By the time he’d searched the kitchen and living room with still no sign of Dhani, panic began to take hold. He rushed through the other rooms of the cabin, simultaneously reaching out with his senses for Dhani’s unmistakable energy.

  Finally, in a section of the cabin that was still being constructed, he found his mate in what would eventually be a library. Bookcases lined the walls, empty of shelves Tailor hadn’t gotten around to installing yet. Dhani was standing on a ladder in front of one of the bookcases holding a cherry oak shelf with a leveler on top of it. He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn’t notice Tailor enter. A pencil was held between his teeth and when he grabbed it to mark where the supports would go, his tongue stuck out in concentration.

  The comical sight made Tailor grin. “What are you doing?”

  Dhani jerked in surprise and dropped the shelf. At the same time, he lost his footing and stumbled backwards. Tailor raced across the room and caught him before he could hit the floor. Dhani stared up at him as Tailor gently lowered him. Their proximity caused heat to wash over Tailor. The smell of dark spices on his mate’s skin filled his lungs and the dark rim of Dhani’s lashes around hazel eyes was innocently erotic.

  He couldn’t believe he’d almost forgotten how handsome his mate was. When he’d found out Dhani had prostituted himself for a year to survive on the streets after he’d run away, Tailor had been furious. Apparently, when Dhani had met Keenan later and stopped selling himself, a few of his regular johns had stalked him, refusing to let him go. Tailor still had a hard time coming to grips with that part of Dhani’s past, yet it hadn’t been hard to believe. Dhani was gorgeous without even trying.

  When Dhani gained his feet, he took a few steps back and smiled shyly. “I saw this room and thought…maybe I could help you finish it. I want to apologize for what I said earlier.”

  Tailor cocked his head, wondering whether Quinn had anything to do with his mate’s change of attitude. He’d known Quinn had come with Manning that morning to check on Dhani. “Don’t worry about it,” he said casually. “Do you know anything about putting up shelves?”

  Dhani shrugged. “A little. I worked construction for a while when I lived in Detroit. Your house is beautiful. Did you inherit it?”

  He glanced around the room with pride. “I built it after my father died.”

  “You built all of this?” Dhani exclaimed in disbelief. “For your father?”

  “No,” he said with a snort. He went to the boxes on the other side of the room and knelt down to dig out some materials. “More like because of him. My father never
let me do anything that took time away from my training. He wanted me to become a warrior, just like he was. The man was obsessed with our war against the Vam’kir.”

  “Sounds like he was a little psychotic.”

  Tailor paused at that description, the same one Manning had always given his father. “Quinn told you about him, didn’t he?”

  Dhani looked away as if in guilt. “I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at Quinn. He just wanted to help me understand you.”

  Tailor waved a dismissive hand. “Quinn has a tendency to butt into other people’s business, but he does it with a good heart. It’s actually a relief that you know. I tend to forget that trust goes both ways.” He gathered nails, a second hammer and two supports for the shelf then went back to Dhani. “I know I was an idiot when we first met, but I want you to trust me now. Ask me anything you want and I’ll give you the truth.”

  Dhani creased his brow in deliberation. “What was your favorite thing growing up?”

  He laughed out loud. “That’s what you want to know?”

  “You said anything.”

  With a shake of his head, he handed his mate the supports and began hammering nails into the bookcase where Dhani had marked it. “A car. 1929 Bugatti Type 46 Semi-profile Coupe. It had a midnight blue and ivory exterior, black leather seats, sweep panels, sleek fenders and a brass steering wheel. I’d chrome plated the engine and chopped the top to make it a convertible. She was the sweetest thing on four wheels. Riding her was better than sex.”

  He winced at his choice of words. “In her…the car. Not that she—it—was like a woman. She was just a thing. The car—”