by J P Sayle
He felt the steady pulse of Óláfr’s soul merging fully with his, making him feel Óláfr’s dreams of moonlight kisses and eternal love.
Aaden leant forward to capture Greg’s cold mouth, wanting that for himself too. He gave Greg a soul-searing kiss. He pulled back. His breath shuddered out at the look of love on Greg’s bewitching face.
“Come on. Let’s go home.”
Max hid in the garden. The bite of the cold wind barely penetrated past the misery he felt. He’d hidden out, not wanting to go with Aaden and the others to Martin’s. He still couldn’t face Princess, though why, he had no clue. He’d been, for Odin’s Raven’s sake, mooning over her for weeks.
Him.
Mooning, when did that ever happen?
So why aren’t I over there now keeping watch, making sure she continued to heal?
He heard the men return and was pleased to hear Greg and Aaden head to the bedroom. The scent of arousal was strong enough to make both Nick and Brody scatter to their respective rooms.
He could sense Brody and Nick’s soulmate bond just waiting to connect. The thread was visible to him now that he was back on the island. He worried at his freezing whiskers. Would they be his or someone else’s problem?
Maybe Princess’s?
Max yowled.
His thoughts died as his large white body bowed and twisted under the full moon. His fur gleamed brightly as he struggled to think past the sudden ripping and tearing inside his body. Heat strummed through his veins. The lingering essence of the souls, souls he’d carried for centuries, ripped free, cresting on the icy air. Colours so bold bled together as they circled and danced around each other.
His unblinking bicoloured eyes shed tears.
The wetness slid down his furry face. His heart stuttered in his chest as something shifted on the air.
A memory of herbed breath sliding over his face forced him to pant while a voice long forgotten, whispered in his ear.
His hackles rose.
A chill coated his fur.
Max collapsed on to the ground, his mind blanking as the darkness stole all rational thought.
“Aaden, get your backside down these stairs. I need to talk to you. Now!”
At Max’s anxious hissing, Aaden lifted his sleep-heavy eyelids and looked at the bedside clock. The grey light of morning filtering through the curtains and Greg’s warm body snuggled against his had him want to roll over and snuggle back down.
Feelings of worry that Max let through their bond had him sigh. He wondered if it had anything to do with the block he’d felt last night. Resigned, Aaden tried to untangle himself from the warmth of Greg and the covers.
“Where are you going?”
Greg’s sleepy question had him halting halfway across the bed. Greg’s hair was stuck up in several directions. He had creases dug into his cheek on one side from the sheets. Sleep coated his sky-blue eyes, but to Aaden he’d never looked more beautiful. His heart stumbled. Blinding emotions from last night came back. The only difference was, he knew without a shadow of a doubt, they were solely his. The words he’d been holding back popped out before he could stop them.
“I love you. God, it hurts to hold this much love inside me and not let it out.”
Aaden’s husky confession had Greg leap up. The sleepiness of seconds ago was gone as he launched himself into Aaden’s lap.
“Oh my God, I’ve been waiting forever for you to say it. I love you too, and I’m not just saying that because you have. I love you and not some other soul, but you. You get that, right?”
Aaden let out a rip-roaring laugh as Greg peppered him with kisses as he continued to tell him how much he loved him.
“I know. You are my Svass, my beloved, the essence of my soul, Greg, not some Viking. You.” He leant forward and brushed his lips over Greg’s soft puffy lips. Offering him his heart, knowing it would be safe in his small hands.
“Yes. I love you so much.”
The tiny sob that escaped with the words had Aaden pull back. Alarmed, he felt his heart rate skyrocket.
“We’ll have less of the crying. You’re not allowed. It’s banned. You hear me?” His panicked voice had the sheen of tears glisten when Greg offered him another kiss.
“Okay. But I may not be able to help it when you say mussy, romantic shit like that to me.”
Aaden snarled at the now smiling Greg. “There will be no romantic crap going on. I’m not romantic, so you can get that idea right out of your head. You hear me?”
The returning soppy smile spreading across Greg’s face had him bury his head in his hands, shaking. He knew he was doomed when he felt soft lips kiss the top of his head.
“If you say so, big boy.”
Greg’s laughing response was drowned out by Max’s angry hissing.
“Come on, troublemaker, stick on something to cover your very tempting naked arse. It would seem Max needs us now.”
Aaden didn’t wait for an answer but got up. He threw on a pair of jeans and nothing else. Heat hummed from the radiators, making it possible to stroll downstairs and not worry about the cold outside. He heard feet padding behind him as he walked down the bare stairs. Dusty plumes rose, making him wish for the renovations to be over.
Aaden gave the living room a quick once-over as he passed. The freshly painted walls had him considering Greg’s suggestion about buying some colourful scatter rugs. As yet, he’d resisted, not sure he wanted rainbows on his floors.
He gave himself a mental kick. All of Greg’s ideas so far had been spot on.
There is always a first time.
He ignored the niggling thought and headed back into the kitchen when there still was no sign of Max. “Max, where the heck are you? I dragged my backside out of bed thinking it was some form of emergency…”
Aaden’s mouth hung open as he stepped into his half-finished kitchen. He blinked and then blinked again. Not at all sure how to interpret what he was seeing.
His hand reached out to see if what was there was real.
Max hissed. His paw batted at his outstretched hand, knocking it away.
“Do not touch her. She’s mine.”
The possessive growl and words made Aaden step back. His lips slapped together. His gaze never wavered from the apparition perched on the bench, with Max cosily sitting in her lap.
The auburn-headed goddess with bewitching hazel eyes. Because that was clearly what she had to be, a witch goddess. She wore an old-fashioned, long, green dress that hugged her figure, showing off every curve to perfection. Her sparkling smile bewitched him.
Her slim leg swung inches from the floor as she stroked the silky fur on Max’s sleek back. His rumbling purrs filled the silence that fell between them all.
“Aaden, why the fuck are you up at the arse crack of dawn on a Saturday? It sounded like a thousand thundering horses coming down the stairs. There are others living in the house, you know.” Nick’s voice grew louder as he stepped in behind Aaden and slapped him on the back. Aaden shifted his weight a fraction, allowing Nick to see into the kitchen. He waited a beat to see if he could see what he was seeing.
The loud gasp and sudden thud had him quickly turn to see Nick slouch against the wall. His hand rose, pointing at the bewitching beauty. His face was the same colour as his top and shorts. Washed-out grey.
“You. What are you doing here?”
The question was lost in the sudden commotion as Greg charged into the kitchen in one of his oversized T-shirts, pushing Nick out of the way.
“Who the hell are you? And what are you doing in my boyfriend’s house?” The angry glare lost its potency when the shrillness of his voice had the little minx give a sultry smile at them all.
Aaden rubbed at his temples, trying to grasp what the hell was going on. Greg’s loud sniff and arm wiping at his face had him set his priorities straight.
“Greg, I don’t know who this is.”
He shot both Nick and a now growling Max a hard stare.
&n
bsp; “But I sure as hell am going to find out, right now.” Aaden stared down both Max and the witch who sat as bold as you like in his kitchen.
“Someone needs to explain themselves.”
Nick coughed, and Max peeled back his lips, his sharp teeth snapping together at Nick.
“Christ, will you both stop that shit and explain what the fuck is going on before I start banging some heads together.” Aaden scowled.
Tinkling laughter had Max’s purrs resume, and Nick stepped forward towards the bench. Aaden put a restraining hand on his arm. He checked on Greg, who looked about ready to spit feathers. Aaden lastly looked back at the woman.
“Explain, now.”
His demand had her brow arch. Her hazel eyes sparked with a smouldering heat, and her swaying foot moved faster, showing her temper.
Aaden felt a sudden feeling in his throat. Struggling to swallow, his hands clawed at his neck. “Stop… it.” He barely managed to get the words past the tightening in his airway. He dragged in a breath when it stopped as quickly as it had started.
His eyes watering, he coughed and pulled in a couple more reassuring breaths. “Okay, you made your point,” he croaked.
“I’m Christina. Max, I know, has spoken about me.”
She raised her dainty hand to Aaden, offering her knuckles. Unsure, he stepped forward, taking it. He shook it. Her obvious confusion at his action had a smile form on his lips. The tension in the room lessened when he chuckled. Stepping back, he pulled Greg to him.
“This is Greg, and I’m sure you know, with a touch of Magnus, to boot. And for some strange reason, I think you know my brother?” His brow arched towards her as he let the question dangle between them all.
Aaden turned to his extremely quiet brother. Who was now lounging, not so nonchalantly, against the wall. The tight strain on his pinched face gave him away, along with fingers that continually tapped out a beat on his thigh.
“So, does someone want to explain what you’re doing here, Christina? Because I have a feeling this is not a fleeting visit, or that it’s not going to create some form of shit storm for either one or all of us.”
Aaden watched Christina closely when she lowered her head. Her hair tumbled forward to shield her thoughts as she looked at Max.
“Well, that depends on Max. He has a choice to make about whether I get to stay or not.”
The cryptic statement had Aaden clutching Greg tighter to him. The hair on his neck danced with an uneasy feeling, making him look closer at Nick at the same time.
Nick’s pale face and shuttered expression as he sauntered to the doorway, completely ignoring his questioning look, had his gut dropping. Letting Nick leave, he turned his gaze back towards the real witch. Who sat as comfy as you like in his home.
“Max, do you have something you want to tell us?”
Max turned from Christina.
The other shoe had well and truly dropped the minute her soft, sultry voice had spoken to him the previous evening. His fur had lifted at the sexy caress of it. Christina then materialised in front of him, taking his breath away.
Her magnificent beauty was unmarred by time. The flowing, auburn hair burned with rich colour under the glowing light of the moon. The green dress hugged her, as he remembered, in all the right places, making her hazel eyes seem darker, sexier.
Max felt his body hum in appreciation. His ancient feelings, long lost, rushed to remind him of what had vanished from his life. The life he’d known before fate had taken it with their greedy fingers because of his own stupidity.
The sorrow he’d long ago buried deep inside his heart sprung forth anew. The rush of emotions drowned his soul in misery.
He mewled loudly, unsure whether to run to her or from her.
Taking matters into her own hands, she tended to him. She lifted him high. As she pushed her nose against his, he felt her warm skin touch his cold nose. Inhaling, he took in the scent of rich fresh herbs that he’d always associated with her kitchen. His mind spiralled back to the past, of sitting in front of her warm fire while she pottered around him, chatting about her day while he daydreamed of being human.
“You don’t need to be human to have me now, Max.”
Her statement knocked him sideways. His head lolled back at the unmistakable shock and the worry of how that was even possible.
“There is more on heaven and earth than can be seen, Max. You know this.”
Her forced laugh had him jumping out of her hands.
“What do I have to give up for this? Because the King of the otherworld, Manannán, is not that generous, and there is always a catch, as I have found to my peril.” Her pinched brow had him stalk away, not sure he wanted to hear what was coming.
This morning, after he’d spent the night worrying, he’d given in, shouting for Aaden. He found himself in need of Aaden to anchor to while Christina again spoke of what could be.
Christina bent, lifting him back up and clouding his mind with her familiar scent. He sniffed into her neck, unable to resist as she sat perched on the bench, cradling him close.
Max watched as Aaden’s face gawped comically before speaking. Followed by what could only be described as a stunned Nick. Who, if he wasn’t mistaken, knew who Christina was.
He also found Greg’s jealousy had him wanting to chuff with pride about how open he was now about his feeling for Aaden.
Even if Aaden was a stupid big lug half the time.
Max was preoccupied with his worries when Nick silently left the room. He worried his whiskers, wondering what connection Nick had to Christina.
He stayed shtum, leaving Christina to answer Aaden’s question.
“Manannán has agreed that I can inhabit Princess’s body and take over her spirit. It has taken many years to get him to agree. Now that you have succeeded in fulfilling Óláfr promise to Magnus and their souls have been reunited, Manannán is now in a forgiving mood.” The lightness of her tone did not hide the small quiver as she attempted to offer a guileless smile.
Max felt something was off. In fact, it felt way off, like a thousand miles off.
The stuff with Aaden letting the cat out of the bag, so to speak, with Nick, about how he communicated with Max, should’ve had Manannán hopping mad, surely?
Max gave Christina a searching look.
What am I missing here?
The feel of Christina’s warm hand stroking down his spine made his body heat. He listened with half an ear to Aaden’s demands. His blood heated with new urges flowing through him. They clouded his judgement.
Max purred, lost in sensations he’d long forgotten.
Aaden’s question roused him from his rather un-cat-like thoughts, and he answered,
“I have to choose between Princess and Christina. Only one of them can inhabit Princess’s body.”
Max all but felt the bomb exploding under his tiny feet. The ripples hit both Aaden and Greg, who jerked and stared at him with abject horror sprayed across their faces.
“Yep, the look on your faces just about sums it up.”
What a total ruddy mess!
The End
Hi all,
My name is Jayne, and by night I am a nurse manager of a hospital. I’ve been happily married for 25 years to a wonderfully complicated man, and I have a wonderful daughter with a very young grandbaby and another soon to join the family. (Still waiting, though I don’t think Gracie is for hanging in there much longer, impatient like her mummy)
I am an identical twin, so if you see me, check, as it may not be me.
I made a decision to follow my dreams, and it now seems that my dreams are instrumental in my writing. This book is the fourth in my Manx Cat Guardian series. And though the last book Where it all Began, Manx Cat Guardian Origins the prequel explains the history of my cats, it is the third in the series and links directly to this book. I have a couple of other books planned for this series and there are going to be a few twists. But my mind hasn’t quite decided if there will be m
ore. So it’s a wait and see.
I hope you have enjoyed this book, and if you are in need of more, then you can find the other books of the series on Amazon.
Book Five, The 12 disasters of Christmas will hopefully be released in December and will be about Brad, Joe, Greg and introduce more of Nick, ready for his story in 2019 Law of Attraction which currently I have no release date for yet. But if you want to keep up to date with what I’m up to with all things writing then, if you would like to follow me.
You can find me on:
Facebook—JP Sayle author page, Jayne Paton or Jayne MmRead
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Facebook Group—JP Minxs ARC group if you’d like to get in early
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If you would like to give me any feedback or just have any questions, go ahead and friend me on Facebook, and I would be happy to answer anything. Well, almost anything. I hope you enjoy my boys and my wonderful mystical cats. If you would also like to leave a review, then I would love to read your thoughts.
Thank you for taking the time to be part of my dream.
Where it all Began: Manx Cat Guardians Origins (Book 1)
The King of the otherworld, Manannán, witnessing changes to how the love between those who chose differently was being accepted, intervened. Wanting the world to have love and hope eternally, ensuring that soulmates connected without restrictions regardless of the person they chose to love, he created the Manx Cat Guardians.
Maximillian, born in the eleventh century, King of his kind, he struggled to always follow the rules King Manannán had laid down. Given no choice about his destiny like his fellow guardians, he’d been granted a Wiccan guide to aid him.
Never having had any problems with his past charges, Maximillian finds himself struggling to get his current charge, King Óláfr the Black, to accept his soulmate Magnus, a lowly servant. The connection is strong between them, but the changing times that Manannán witnessed and the introduction of Christianity had Óláfr struggling to accept his soulmate.