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COWBOY ROMANCE: Justin (Western Contemporary Alpha Male Bride Romance) (The Steele Brothers Book 1)

Page 95

by Amanda Boone


  Paran followed her. “Son.” He knelt down across from him.

  But Pelyn’s irises were no longer visible. His tense body melted before their eyes.

  He collapsed onto the wet ground, he sweat-covered body convulsing.

  Chapter Five

  Evelyn resurfaced with a deep breath, as if she had been held under water for far too long. “This is my fault,” she whispered. “He wanted me to stop. He just wanted to talk to you.”

  Pelyn had unwillingly released the both of them from his hold. Awe and wonder seized her mind at the fact that her son had just displayed the most power she had ever seen in another young being, but she had to ignore that. The sight of her little baby shaking uncontrollably, foaming at the mouth, made her stomach lurch, made bile collect in the back of her throat. “Pelyn!” She knelt next to him, part of her wanting to embrace him, part of her afraid to touch him.

  “We have to rush him to the colony.”

  “What colony?” She slipped her cell phone out of the pocket of her robe, those three numbers already dialed.

  The look on his face was enough to draw a resounding “hell no!” from the pit of her stomach.

  Pelyn had gone silent and still in front of the two of them. “I’m taking him to a hospital.”

  “No. They won’t know what to do with him.”

  Evelyn ducked her head, narrowing her eyes at him. “He had seizure.”

  “It’s not that simple. If you take him to a doctor, they might make him worse.”

  Evelyn gazed down at her lifeless son. She had already made enough mistakes and was not interested in making yet another one simply because of her pride. She had isolated him from his kind for his entire life, and now she could no longer deny that they were his best chance at survival.

  Paran hoisted Pelyn up into his arms and followed her back into the house. Evelyn took time only to slip a pair of jeans on and grab her purse before she climbed into the backseat of Paran’s truck with Pelyn in her arms. She stared at her son while Paran rushed them through the streets that formed the outskirts of Boston, weaving in and out of other cars, people who looked suspended in time.

  Soon enough, they reached a field off road. In the center sat what looked like a heavily streamlined, tiny, private jet. “What—”

  But Paran had already rounded the front of the truck and was lifting Pelyn out of her arms. They loaded into the aircraft and buckled in. Evelyn stared nervously at Pelyn before gazing at Paran. She watched with curious eyes as he started the aircraft up, the roar of the engine filling the entire cabin.

  His eyes flitted across the control panel, his fingers flipping this switch this way and pressing that button down. Soon enough, they were racing across the field, leaving deep tracks in the mud. Evelyn held herself as he grabbed the joystick. His jaw clenched with the strain as he lifted the aircraft off the ground.

  The events of that morning ran through her head over and over and over again as she tried to pinpoint where exactly she had gone wrong. As she searched for the moment that, if she had a time machine, she would go back to and undo, she pressed her right temple into the seat strap, filing her nails down lower and lower.

  It was as she hung in this limbo that she felt something snatch her hand. She turned to find Paran holding her, his eyes as deeply worried as hers, the same expression of horror on his face.

  She realized just then that he was the only person on the planet that could understand what she was feeling, the only being with a pulse that she could share her mind with. As she held his hand and raced on the road to saving her son, she felt a part of something for the first time. Suddenly, she didn’t want Pelyn all to herself anymore.

  Thirty minutes later, Paran dropped out of the cloud bank to reveal a terrain covered in snow and cut with stony mountaintops. “Where the hell are we?” she whispered.

  “I think it’s what you call Ellesmere?”

  Evelyn furrowed her brow, trying to remember where she had heard that name before… “Canada? How did we get to Canada in less than an hour on a jet?”

  He grunted, preparing the craft for landing.

  Evelyn watched as what looked like a tightly paved runway quickly approached.

  “This isn’t a jet.”

  Evelyn grabbed both sides of her seat as he landed the craft, the wheels popping out just in time to stop the vehicle from scraping the ground. Her entire body shot forward as they raced across the runway, Paran’s brow furrowed and his jaw set as he labored to land the craft correctly.

  Evelyn gazed out of her window at the settlement around them. The buildings looked familiar and yet different, as if they had their own flare to them, something alien, something advanced. As Paran slowed the craft to a stop, a team of men, tall and muscular, ran toward them from out of what looked like a massive garage.

  Paran didn’t waste a second. He climbed out of his seat and went for Pelyn, picking him up and slamming his fist against a button. As he did this, an automatic door opened, letting cold air rush in.

  By the time Evelyn could follow him, he had stepped down onto the runway. Paran spoke quickly to the men that met him. One of them nodded and ran back toward the building while the other turned his attention to Pelyn, examining him with a furrowed brow. More men exited through the hanger and came running toward them. Among them was a tall Kaharan with dark hair and black eyes. He yelled orders at all the others and went straight for the boy, picking him up and running back through the garage.

  Evelyn instinctively followed. “Where are they taking him?”

  But Paran grabbed her by the arm, stopping her in her tracks. “That was Kal, one of the best Kaharan doctors that ever lived. Your son is in good hands now.”

  Chapter six

  Evelyn paced back and forth in the short hallway that separated her son’s hospital bed from the rest of the hospital. They had rushed him in right after Kal had introduced himself before hastily explaining away Pelyn’s condition. He said something about how her son had exhausted himself by expelling all of his energy by using his powers. Evelyn took that to mean that it had been her fault. If she hadn’t had been so adamant about pushing Paran away…

  Now Pelyn was lying there on what could very well be his deathbed. All they could do was wait.

  “Evelyn?”

  She raised her head just in time to watch Paran approach her from the main hallway, a look of soft determination in his eyes.

  Just seeing him made her want to break down. He was the bucket for her tears. “I haven’t heard anything. I don’t know what to do.” Before she knew it, she was falling into his embrace.

  He encased her in his strong arms, resting his chin on her forehead. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  She had cheated herself out of moments like this, when the only person fighting for her was herself. All of that time, she could have been bending into him, trusting him. “I—” If she hadn’t been so broken, so worried, so ashamed of herself, she never would have admitted it. But now, with her staring right into the face of the truth, and her son nearly dying because of her, she saw no reason to deny it any further. “I made the wrong decision. I failed him as a mother.”

  Paran took her face in both of his hands, forcing her to face him. “You failed yourself.”

  Evelyn scoffed. “Why? Because you’re such a catch?”

  He took her hand, lifting it to his lips and planting a kiss on it.

  Evelyn felt her body respond in that familiar way, her heart pounding against her chest and in her ears, her hot, thin blood zipping through her veins, the chill running up her spine. It was like that first sip of coffee in the morning, that first gulp of strong vodka, that first hit of marijuana. It was essential and yet luxurious. It was a wonder she had let herself go without it for so long.

  “Because no one should have to tear themselves away from their true mate and raise his child, a creature stronger than she could have ever imagined, all on her own.”

  Their lips were dangling
toward each other, hardly separated at all, one’s hot breath coating the other’s face. “You’re the only one who could have changed my mind, the only one who could have saved the both of us from myself.”

  “And yet you made yourself unavailable to me.” His jaw trembled as he grabbed her cheek. “You kept my boy from me? Ten years I lost. Why would you do that?”

  “I couldn’t let you teach me dependence and then leave me all by myself.”

  “I wouldn’t have. I’m certain that in ten years of living with you, of existing with you, I could not have found one reason to desert you.”

  Evelyn had to talk around the lump in her throat, the declaration of love she was certain she could never deserve. “Ten years is a long time.”

  Paran pulled just far enough back to get a good look at her eyes. “And yet, when I look at you, I still see the woman in the bar with the bourbon and the smirk.”

  Evelyn shook her head, smiling in spite of herself. “I actually couldn’t stand that drink.”

  Paran chuckled. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I just thought it would ward off the opposite sex.”

  “So what were you doing there?”

  Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “A girl can’t just hang in a bar?’

  Paran let out a quiet laugh.

  Evelyn wondered what it would be like to hear that laugh over the morning headlines at breakfast, or while sharing a TV show with him on a Monday night. “No. I was working on a project for my philosophy class. Had to survey the crowd, so to speak.”

  He nodded, a pensive look in his eye.

  “And what were you doing?” Evelyn nudged him.

  He wrapped his arms around her again, speaking with his nose in her hair. “I work as a cultural scientist here. My job is to relay human customs to the Kaharans so that we’ve got a better chance of fitting in.”

  Evelyn planted a kiss on his neck, the act surprising even herself. “I can’t believe two beings with the same gift in the same place one night doing the same thing happened to meet and make a child.”

  He lifted her chin, unleashing the full force of his eyes.

  For the first time since they had landed at the Kaharan settlement, Evelyn felt calm. By letting go of her puppet strings, she felt more naturally in control than she ever had.

  “Have you ever heard of anything more beautiful in your life?” Paran asked, lowering himself toward her.

  “More beautiful than us?”

  He answered her question with a kiss. Their lips assumed a familiar dance, his mouth consuming hers, hers embracing his. His tongue jutted into her mouth, the thick muscle commanding the entire environment, daring her to challenge him. She wouldn’t dare.

  They stood like this for longer than time itself, until they were interrupted by the sound of a door being opened.

  “Paran?” An exhausted Kal poked his head out of the doorway. “Evelyn?”

  Evelyn stepped away from Paran, her eyes wide with anticipation. “Yes?”

  “Pelyn just woke up. I think he’s going to be okay.”

  Evelyn’s knees went weak.

  But before she could collapse…

  Paran caught her.

  THE END

  Military & Soldier Collection

  If you want more detail or to jump directly to one of the books, go to the Table of Contents, by clicking here.

  A SEALed Secret

  A Military Romance

  A SEALed Secret

  Chapter 1

  “Izzy, you can’t imagine just how much I love you,” Doran said, his slight Irish accent tinged with emotion. “How much I’d love to lay you down and kiss every inch of your body.”

  His lips drew close to hers, so close she could taste his breath and feel his stubble on her chin. She wanted to answer with something sensual and sexy, but her limbs froze under the pressure. She longed for his kiss deep in her bones - every inch of her wanted him.

  “Are you not awake yet?” he whispered.

  “What?” she replied, finding her voice.

  “Isadora, you know you should be awake by now.”

  “Wha…”

  BANG! A book slammed right near her head, making Isadora Rosellini shoot up from her bed. Her father, a tall-for-an-Italian man with stocky shoulders, stood above her with a deep frown. She examined the room, wondering where Doran had gone. He was never here at all, you idiot. And you wouldn’t want him here anyway.

  “Do you remember that we have to pick your brother up from the airport?” her father asked.

  “He’s not my brother, Mario” she answered, rubbing her eyes to wipe away the sleep.

  “I’m your dad. Call me ‘Dad.’”

  “Why do I even have to go? Can’t I just go back to sleep?”

  “Your mother wants you to go.”

  She fell back into her bed and held the pillow over her face, “Ugh, she’s not

  moment, he looked confused and awed at the same time.

  “Ah, there you are, Isadora,” Mario grinned amiably (very unlike him) and wrapped his arm around here. “I thought maybe you’d run off.”

  “I thought about it,” she gave a fake smile herself, then handed each of them their coffees. “Welcome back, Doran.”

  “Thank you, Izzy,” he responded, taking the cup from her. “I appreciate you getting me coffee.”

  “You’re very welcome, brother.” She knew she laid the pleasantries on thick. He took a sip of his coffee and swallowed hard. “How is it?”

  “Fine,” he responded. “Well, should we get out of here, huh? I’m starving for some of Mom’s home cooking.”

  The parents talked enthusiastically with the returned son, seemingly more than ecstatic to see him. She strayed behind as they all walked together while chatting and laughing. She drank her chai curmudgeonly, taking pleasure every time Doran took a labored drink.

  They all piled into the car, the two "siblings" sitting next to each other in the back. Mario turned on the baseball game he's been missing and listened intently to the announcers. Though he played off well that he cared about others in public, when it came to baseball, he always had his priorities straight: baseball over everything.

  “I love this coffee,” Doran whispered to his stepsister.

  “So happy, brother,” she responded.

  “I really like the extra kick of grounds in it too.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “There were quite a lot of coffee grounds in my coffee. As if someone requested it.”

  “That’s messed up. Maybe you should go back.”

  “What are you two whispering about?” Angela asked, looking back at them with a twinkle in her eye.

  “I was just talking about how good my coffee is,” Doran grinned at his mother. “Izzy asked if she could try it, but I didn’t know if I wanted to give any of it up.”

  “Oh, Doran. I didn’t teach you to be selfish.”

  “I grew up a lot with Dad, and he did.”

  “Share with your sister.”

  “I’m not his…” Isadora started as Doran held the coffee in her face.

  “Is the coffee really good?” Mario asked. “I might want to try it.”

  “No, no,” Isadora and Doran said together.

  “I mean, it might not be your style, Dad,” she waved her hand. “You like the sweet hazelnut stuff.”

  “I have been thinking I should try black coffee though because it’s better for you,” her father continued. “Can I try it, Doran?”

  Isadora took the coffee and chugged the rest of it, getting a mouthful of grounds in the process. She tried to hold back her gags as Doran explained “Izzy selfishly drank it all.” Angela lectured them for being too much like real siblings and bickering like “cats and dogs.” Isadora wanted to say that cats and dogs don’t really fight - cats mostly ignore dogs, who sometimes chase them. But she held her tongue. Mostly, she had to hold in the vomit bubbling up from her stomach.

  She immediately regretted
her decision to play a practical joke on her not-brother.

  Chapter 2

  “I don’t understand why you hate him,” Fiona, Isadora’s old friend and cubicle-mate, said. “I mean, he was kind of a jerk in high school, but he’s not now. Right?”

  “I don’t know, he’s only been home for a few days,” Isadora responded, spinning around in her chair to show her complete lack of motivation for her work. “He did make me drink a whole lot of coffee grinds, which is pretty evil.”

  “Yeah, except you gave him that coffee with the grounds in it after he came back from serving our country. That’s evil.”

  “I have a lot of problems. I’ve made so many mistakes.”

  “Blah blah. By the way, can I write an article about your brother?”

  “I don’t know why you’d want to.”

  “Cause he just came back from being a Navy SEAL overseas, and it’s interesting?”

  “I don’t think it’s that interesting.”

  “He’s also attractive. Do you think he’ll let you take pictures of him?”

  “He probably will, but I don’t want to.”

  “Stop being a jerk, Dora. Come on.”

  Isadora turned back around to her computer, looking at the article she had to edit and design on the page. She did well at the local arts and general cool-things-about-town (as she liked to say) paper because she could do graphic design, copy-edit, and photograph. She didn’t write many because she didn’t like people enough to interview them. She’d tried that in college, and it just didn’t work out for her.

  “I don’t know why I hate him so much,” she said, picking back up with the conversation. “Maybe because I relate him with my dad remarrying. I never really forgave him for that.”

  “I like when you get really deep when you’re trying to procrastinate on your work. Do you have your brother’s number? I want to call him for the article.”

 

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