by Dana Archer
He’s leaving something out. I want to demand what, but the longer I study Ilan, another possibility creeps into my mind, one that terrifies me. “What if you die first? What will happen to us? Will I lose you forever?”
Ilan drops his hand. “You need to trust in me. I won’t fail you or us. When the time is right, I will finish our bond. I’ve explained this to you already.”
“You have, and I do trust you.” I touch Ilan’s cheek, laying just my fingertips over his skin in a light caress to match the one he gave me moments ago. “But as your true mate, I deserve to know what will happen. Don’t try to protect my feelings or whatever. Please tell me.”
Ilan turns and walks to the windows on the opposite side of the room. With his back to me, he moves a curtain aside and studies the sunlit woods. “Yes, we’ll lose our chance at forever. Royals aren’t reborn. If we’re soul bonded at the time of my death, we’d both enter the heavens at the same time and never leave. As long as we don’t complete our bond, you won’t die with me. You’ll live out your life, then be reborn, again and again for eternity. We’ll just never get another chance because I won’t be in the same realm as you.”
Coldness spreads from my heart outward. “And that would be better than spending eternity with you in heaven?”
Ilan shrugs and links his hands behind his back. “I don’t know. That’s something you have to decide for yourself.”
I close the distance between us and slip in front of him. “Done. I’d rather spend eternity with you, wherever that happens to be.”
Ilan’s gaze slides from my face to the spot on my shoulder he bit a couple of nights ago. “That’s not a decision to be made lightly, Sara. Think about it. Once we finish our bond, it’s forever.”
“I don’t need to think about it. We belong together.”
Stark need slips into Ilan’s eyes. “Soul bonding between humans and Royals happens at the point of the human’s death. It’s safer for you that way as each of my wolves will need to tie themselves to your soul after I bind myself to you. That’s traumatic and painful, and if not done at the point when your resistance is at its lowest, your soul might shatter. I’d lose you completely. We wouldn’t get eternity in heaven, and I’d never have the chance to form a bond with you in another lifetime.”
“I’d be lying if I said that doesn’t frighten me.” I smile, trying to lighten this heavy moment. “But if it means guaranteeing our forever, I’m ready.”
Ilan curls his hand around the back of my neck and holds me still. With deep strokes, he twines our tongues in an erotically decadent kiss that warms my belly, leaving me eager and ready to welcome Ilan into my body. He makes no attempt to undress me, though. He continues this wicked assault on my senses. Dizziness leaves me light-headed. I brace myself with a palm on his chest while Ilan’s wandering touch leaves fire in its wake. He slips his hand under my shirt and unhooks my bra.
Soren’s cries, amplified by the baby monitor sitting on the end table, carry through the room as Ilan shoves my shirt up. I groan against his lips. “I love that little boy, but he’s picked the worst possible time to wake up.”
Ilan chuckles. “Or the best. I might’ve lost all reason and soul-bonded with you now.”
“But didn’t we decide that’s what we should do?” Of course, maybe we didn’t explicitly say that’s what should happen, but if Ilan won’t call me on it, I won’t mention it either.
Ilan adjusts my bra, hooking it closed. “Even with my strength, it’ll take you days to recover fully from the soul bonding. We can’t commit to that today. I don’t know what Gabriel will reveal once I can talk to him through Owen. Maybe he’ll be able to tell me where he’s at and I can rescue him. I’m doubtful, though. If he knew where he’s being kept, he would’ve told Xander. He hasn’t. I need to find out first.”
I want to argue with him. To me, ensuring our eternity is important, but my desire to guarantee I never lose Ilan isn’t the only thing at stake here. “But if you can't connect with Gabriel, we’ll soul-bond tonight. Right?”
“Sure.”
Something about that one word or maybe Ilan’s expression plants a seed of doubt, making me wonder if he’s just pacifying me. “Promise?”
“Yes. If we have time, we’ll soul-bond.” Ilan slides his loose grip down my arms to my wrists. “And while I try to connect to Gabriel through Owen, you and Soren will be safe here while I’m gone. The Winchester pack is Dante’s second family.”
I stare at Ilan for a long moment and fight the urge to call him a liar. If I do, I’d be breaking my promise. I told Ilan I trust him. There’s only one response I can give. “Okay. I’ll see you later, then.”
“Yes, later.” Ilan presses his lips to mine for a long moment before easing back and releasing me. “And hopefully, Soren will have a full stomach and be fast asleep when I return.”
I nod, then follow Ilan’s retreating back with my gaze until he slips into the kitchen. I really want to follow him inside and continue this conversation, but Soren’s crying. Besides, Ilan’s already made up his mind. He’s not going to soul-bond with me until after the threat to him and his pack is eliminated.
Twenty-Eight
Ilan
Guilt is a dangerous emotion. It’s not one I used to experience before Sara either. I can’t deny its crippling effects, however. Especially when my true mate can see right through my actions. But giving her the hope we might soul-bond tonight seemed kinder than feeling her disappointment at the truth.
We don’t have time to devote to going through the process of bonding, then healing. Finding my almost beheaded blood brother sealed our fate. Death has arrived, and it’s lurking in the shadows, waiting.
I even know how it’ll strike. Ezra’s and Daegan’s unresponsive bodies are the taunting evidence of a confident killer. He’ll take out any protector I have or Soren has, then simply swoop in and end our lives. Had Ezra not been so stubborn and strong, Soren might’ve lost his life already. I can only hope the sheer number of Winchester pack males congregated around the home where I left the keeper of my heart and the innocent life we’ve been entrusted with is enough to deter my enemies until I can eliminate the threat to us once and for all.
My phone dings with Sara’s response to my text. I exhale in relief. Both Sara and Soren are fine. They both got several hours of sleep and something to eat. With those details easing my worry for their well-being, I tuck my cell phone in the cup holder of my car, then reach for the door handle. I don’t want any distractions, emotional or physical, for this meeting.
“You’re wise not to have soul-bonded to your true mate yet.”
Jarah’s voice stops me from opening the door.
“You have no way of knowing if I’ve soul-bonded to Sara or not.” Though if anyone saw the bite mark on her shoulder, they’d probably assume I had.
“Sure I do. True mates wouldn’t need to text each other. A single thought would connect their minds.” Jarah shoves my phone in the glove box before opening the passenger door. “And as I said, it’s a wise decision. If you die, Soren will have someone to raise him.”
If anything, Jarah’s stark and pessimistic views on life have not changed. I shake my head. “Assuming I’ll die already?”
“No.” Deep creases form on Jarah’s brow. “I said if you die.”
Technically, true. Jarah did use that qualifier, but… “A little confidence in me or hope that I’ll rescue Gabriel and overcome the threats to my pack would be nice.”
Jarah snorts. He opens the door, takes the bottle of ambrosia we’ve brewed from the backseat, and rounds the hood. Once my door is closed behind me, he steps next to me. “Hope and confidence are for fools.”
“Then I suppose I’m a fool.” My grandmother would be the first to tell me that. I’ve fallen into the trap of love. Despite knowing I’d be stronger with a soul bond to Sara, I keep finding excuses not to irrevocably tie her eternity to mine. No, not excuses. Truths. It’s true we don’t have time to
soul-bond. That’s my fault. I wasted years trying to protect Sara.
“A fool is a man without a backup plan.” Jarah falls into step with me as we make our way across the yard. “And I approve of yours. Sara would be a fierce protector of the last Kane member if you fail. I also have little doubt she’d avenge you.”
“Sara’s human. She’s also mortal without a soul bond to me. She might have the desire to avenge me, but she’d only end up getting herself killed and leaving Soren without someone to raise him if I fail.” I’ll have to find a way to bring this up and discourage such a reckless action, because Jarah’s right. Sara would fight for me. She’s already proven she’d kill for Soren if necessary.
“Do you have such little faith in your true mate?”
I cut a quick glance at Jarah. “Sara has the strongest, kindest, most beautiful soul of any female walking on this earth, but she’s also confined by the limitations of her body. That doesn’t lessen her worth or my faith in her. Her mortality and limited physical strength are facts neither of us can deny.”
Movement from the cabin draws my eye to the window. Owen’s wide chest fills the opening from the parted curtain. With his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face, he doesn’t look too happy with the idea of entertaining visitors.
Jarah stops and stares for a long moment at the single shifter who’s been bonded to my alpha, then turns his back on Owen, a blatant dismissal, and faces me, blocking me from Owen’s sight. “Any weakness can be used to overcome an enemy, and your Sara can exploit hers to her advantage. Most shifters would use the same rationale you have, dismissing her as a threat. That’d be their downfall if she plans the strike against them well. I doubt she’d get more than one chance, though. She’d have to be successful on her first attempt.”
Had Sara known how to shoot a gun, she would’ve taken out the lion shifter with a single bullet. That male had dismissed her as a threat, approaching her and Soren head-on.
I turn my face to the moon, allowing the rays to warm my soul. I should never have questioned my grandmother’s choice in females. Things might’ve turned out differently had I trusted in her. The past can’t be changed, though. I chose to protect Sara from me. It is what it is now.
“But it’s a risk I wouldn’t want my true mate to take.” I meet Jarah’s focused stare. He’s judging my actions and my words. It’s not personal. Jarah has spent thousands of years judging people and situations in order to pick out the truths. “And it’s not a situation I plan on exposing her to. If we can’t connect to Gabriel through Owen, we need to explore other options. Brock had come to this area to meet with Xander, exposing himself to danger and dying as a result, for a reason. As obsessed as Brock was with finding Gabriel, I’m inclined to believe Xander might know more than he’s saying about my alpha’s location.”
Jarah’s unblinking gaze holds mine for so long I’m tempted to speak again, but finally, he inclines his head. “The word that has reached me about Gabriel has come from a witch who’s escaped the facility where Gabriel is being held. She has ties to this area.”
“She knows where my alpha is?” With rage flowing through me and awakening my wolves, I step closer to Jarah and lower my voice to a threatening growl. “Why haven’t you shared this knowledge?”
“I don’t have the knowledge you seek, my son. If I did, I would’ve gone after your alpha myself, saving you from this threat.”
“Then Xander does?” Which makes me question my decision to leave Sara in the Winchester pack’s care.
“Not likely, unless his younger brother knows more than his true mate let on.”
Jarah’s talking in circles, dropping little bits of information each time he opens his mouth. Out of all the people in my life, I would’ve thought the ancient male who raised me would know me well enough not to dance around hard truths. I take another step closer to Jarah. A deep inhale will press our chests together. “Talk to me, Jarah. Which of Xander’s younger brothers are you referring to? He has several. And how do you know of this witch? Can you put me in touch with her?”
“The witch is Eli’s true mate. She came to the Host’s chambers begging Connal, Teague, and me to vote down any request to end Eli’s life. Once she realized we wouldn’t make such a promise, the woman clammed up, then promptly disappeared. The details I shared with you are the ones she gave in her attempt to manipulate us.”
“Eli.” My gaze strays to the moon again, gratitude for my goddess overwhelming me. She’s guided me in ways I haven’t realized. “Eli’s my newest protégé.”
“You’ve taken a feral male as your student?”
The shock in Jarah’s voice is clear. I glance at him. “Eli’s salvageable. I also have his blood vow to guarantee his compliance.”
Jarah looks over his shoulder. The curtain is closed. He steps to the side, exposing my face to the male who’s likely still watching us even if he’s no longer visible. The front door has a peephole. “Then perhaps we want to explore that route and leave this male to his insanity. Unlike your protégé, he’s unsalvageable. Death is kinder for him.”
I don’t agree with Jarah’s assessment of Owen’s state of mind or his fate, but the deliberately spoken words while facing the house have a purpose. At the moment, I can’t imagine what it’d be other than to anger this male who’s been unwillingly bonded to my alpha.
“I care little about Owen’s mental state as long as he remains breathing.” I move forward, closing in on the cabin I’d visited not long ago.
The door opens before I step onto the stoop. Arms crossed over his chest, Owen leans against the doorjamb. “What? No escorts today? Or doesn’t Ethan know you’re here?”
“Do you have so little faith in your pack?” I motion behind me to my parked car. “The only road out here is the one that goes directly in front of your alpha’s home.”
Owen doesn’t look in the direction I’ve indicated. He stares at me. Not Jarah. Me. I can’t help think his dismissal of the ancient male standing next to me is deliberate. “Why are you here?”
“We came to share a little drink and talk.” Jarah raises the bottle of ambrosia. “I was told you might have stories to tell.”
Owen slides his attention to Jarah, but he doesn’t meet the ancient’s eyes. He focuses on the bottle Jarah holds. “I don’t want any of that stuff. Shove it up your ass and get out of here.”
Jarah lifts the bottle in front of his face and studies the dark liquid inside the clear, corked bottle. “But I spent hours brewing this stuff. I’d hate to waste it on my ass, especially considering I’m not a lover of men and shoving anything into my rectum will not be pleasurable.”
Raw, vulgar curses fall from Owen’s mouth. Hands balled into fists, he strides forward, then abruptly comes to a jerking stop. Nostrils flaring, Owen steps back, likely inside the safe range allowed by the band on his leg. “I’m in no mood to play games with anyone, especially a bear. You should all be put down.”
Jarah inclines his head. “My brethren do carry a poor reputation, don’t they?”
“What?” Owen jerks his chin at Jarah. “Are you going to tell me you’re not into torturing and exploiting those weaker than you? I thought that was the standard bears act on.”
“Those who exhibit those qualities, no matter their species, are a disgrace to their ancestors and their goddess if they so happen to have one.” Jarah presses his palm to his chest. “And considering I have a direct line of communication with my mother, I would rather not disappoint my goddess. She’s not exactly nice. More of a bitch, actually.”
While I’ve witnessed the disdain for Jarah based on his skin color and for the animals he harbors within him many times, I’m always impressed by his calm responses, even if they’re only outwardly given.
“You’re a firstborn?” Owen narrows his eyes, studying Jarah with a fresh perspective. “I thought they were all spirits now, trapped in their descendants’ souls.”
“Bonded, not trapped. Most first alphas ap
preciate that tie to this world and those they’ve come to consider theirs. Shifters are a possessive lot.” Jarah walks forward, not slowing his steps as he approaches Owen. The other male steps to the side, allowing Jarah inside. “But that’s only possible for those firstborns who went on to establish a family. I have not. There are many like me who have not. It’s not a fate every shifter wants. Those who have not chosen to breed live on as ancient sentinels and watchful eyes of the heavens.”
I catch the door as it closes behind Jarah and slip into the room, quietly taking up a position in the shadows. Owen’s attention is on Jarah now, allowing me the moment to judge this man who’s tied to Gabriel.
Sara’s question has been lingering in my mind. Who decides whose life matters more? I can’t help but wonder if my response was the proper one. Familiarity should not be the sole basis of a decision. It’s only the one that feels right.
“If you are that old, no story I can tell will be interesting.” Owen opens the front door a second time and steps to the side. “You might as well leave.”
“Don’t be so quick to assume I know everything.” Jarah sets the bottle of ambrosia on the table I sat at not long ago and walks into the kitchen.
Owen cuts a quick look at where I’m standing against the wall, then kicks the front door closed before heading toward the kitchen.
Jarah steps out with three glasses before Owen can enter, then sets the glasses on the wooden surface with a hard thump and pulls out a chair. Instead of sitting, he looks at Owen. “Do you mind?”
Owen shrugs. “I don’t own this place. I’m just being kept here.”
“Against your will.” Jarah sits and kicks out the chair next to him, a silent invitation for Owen to join him.
Owen stares at the chair for a minute, then sits. “It’s been a long time since I’ve made my own decisions.”
I take the empty chair to the right of Jarah. “Since before you were ambushed and forced into slavery.”