Haven 5: Invincible (7 page)

“They’re beautiful,” he repeated, forcing the words through the tightening in his throat. “And they’re very lucky to have such wonderful mothers. You don’t have to worry anymore.” With one last caress to the infant’s soft skin, Torren released him and stood from his seat. “Those are not my children, though.”

“How do you know that?” Kieran questioned him.

“They have no magic.” It was as simple as that. “They’re definitely hybrids, but their father was not a witch.”

“Maybe they’ll have magic later,” Eli tossed out. “How can you know for sure?”

Torren sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he stood in the circle of defensive weres. “Each Magik family has their own unique magic. It gives off a kind of pulse, I suppose.” His heart was breaking as he tried to explain, but he just didn’t know why. This is what he’d wanted. Wasn’t it? “While the twins are happy, healthy, and adorable, they have no magical pulse, and certainly not the magic of a Braddock.”

“Whatever,” Parker growled.

He couldn’t stay there any longer. He didn’t know what was happening to him or why he was feeling so heartbroken, but he had to get out. Just steps from the door, he paused when it swung open and Aslan stood in the doorway. His eyes were red and his bottom lip trembled slightly. Just then, he was the most amazing sight that Torren had ever seen. “Hey,” he said lamely.

“We’re not finished,” Parker barked at him. “You think you’re so damn superior. They’re hybrids, so you just cast them aside because they aren’t up to
Braddock
standards.”

“As much as I wish it were so, they are not mine.”

“Maybe and maybe not,” Eli responded. “I happen to agree with Parker. I think they are, and you’re just too much of an asshole to admit it. You don’t deserve them.”

“Enough,” Aslan said quietly, but with a trace of steel in his tone.

Then he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around Torren’s waist. “I’m sorry.”

Though it made him a weak shmuck and he knew it, he needed the comfort that only his mate could give him. Lifting Aslan into his arms, he buried his face in the warm skin of his throat and breathed deeply, letting the sweet smell calm and soothe him.

What the hell was wrong with him? He was acting like a fucking child, and it didn’t sit well with him at all.

“This isn’t over.” That had to be Jericho. The man hadn’t spoken a word since Torren’s arrival until this point. “He’s planning something.”

Raina rose slowly from her seat, passed Randall over to Kieran, and in the next blink had Jericho slammed up against the wall as her claws extended and her fangs punched through her gums. “It
is
over,” she snarled. “That man is in pain, and if you can’t see that, then you’re dumber than I thought. Let it go, Jer. Leave him in peace.” She turned and growled at the rest of her brothers. “That goes for all of you.”

Fuck, was he that easy to read? They probably all thought he was a weak, neurotic mess. And the truth of it was that’s exactly how he felt. The more he tried to work out the reasoning behind it, however, the more his head throbbed.

“Take me back to my room,” Aslan whispered, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “We need to talk.”

For the first time, Torren realized just how ominous those words sounded when on the receiving end of them.

There was a hollow ache in Aslan’s chest that wasn’t his own. He didn’t understand how he could feel Torren’s emotions, nor did he know how he could connect thoughts to those feelings, but he didn’t begrudge the fact. If he could sense what was inside his mate, he’d be better able to give the witch what he needed.

Neither of them spoke as Torren carried him up the stairs and down the long hallway to his bedroom. He’d almost insisted on walking, but then he realized that holding him in his arms was exactly what Torren needed. Being surrounded by the strength and warmth of the man wasn’t a hardship, so Aslan had bit his tongue and simply enjoyed the ride.

Torren paused outside of the closed door, and his arms tightened around Aslan. “Raith is still here.” He didn’t sound very happy about it, either.

“Yes.” There really wasn’t anything else he could say. Torren’s brother was on the other side of that door, and no matter what Aslan had said, Raith wasn’t intending to go anywhere until he spoke to Torren.

With an unhappy grunt, Torren pushed the door open and stepped into the room, still refusing to relinquish his hold on Aslan. His shoulders tensed, and his eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?” The angry quality of his tone was rough, dangerous, and possibly the sexiest sound Aslan had ever heard. Shivering involuntarily, his cock twitched inside his jeans, swelling harder the longer Torren continued to make the rumbling sound in his chest.

“We need to talk,” Raith answered simply as he rose to his feet.

“When were you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

There was the delicious growl again, and Aslan’s breathing sped, his pulse accelerated, and he wiggled in Torren’s arms, grinding his aching dick over the man’s midsection.
Do it again.

As if Torren had heard his silent plea, he nuzzled the side of Aslan’s neck and growled softly, his chest vibrating with the sound.

“Is that what you want, baby?” Hoarse and raspy, he whispered into Aslan’s ear while his warm breath caressed his skin.

Raith cleared his throat, pulling their attention back to him. “You two have been apart for a really long time.” He exhaled in a great whoosh and scrubbed both hands over his face. “This is a fucking nightmare.”

“Oh, good, you’re back.” Raven sauntered into the room with a cocky smile on his face, Demos, Cassius, Varik, and Stavion following close behind him.

It was starting to feel a little crowded with so many enormous men in his room. “What’s going on? Why is everyone in my room?” Aslan flopped his hand around. “Go away.”

“Sorry,” Raven answered, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “No can do.”

“Not happening,” Demos agreed. “What the hell is an
Infinity?
” Torren tensed in his arms, and his head whipped around to pin Raith with his dark gaze. Very slowly, his attention returned to Aslan, staring at him as though he’d never seen him before. Aslan frowned.

“Do I have something on my face?” Crap, maybe he was getting a zit.

That would really suck.

“It can’t be,” Torren whispered. “I…I…”

“Stop fighting it, brother.” Raith shuffled closer to them, but kept a respectful distance. “Let go and feel it.” Aslan didn’t know what the hell was going on, but the two witches were starting to make him nervous. “What’s he talking about?” he demanded of his mate. “What are you fighting? What are you supposed to feel?” He began struggling, trying to free himself from Torren’s arms. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Torren’s arms tightened, preventing his escape. “Aslan, calm down.”

Instantly, Aslan went completely still, and the anxiety that had threatened to overwhelm him vanished, replaced by a deep sense of peace and contentment. “How did you do that?” he breathed in awe.

Instead of answering, Torren stared into his eyes unblinkingly, and Aslan couldn’t help but stare back. As he watched, he could have sworn that a soft, shimmering light flickered in the gold specks around Torren’s pupils. Looking deeper, losing himself in those endless pools of onyx, Aslan felt as though he’d known Torren for not just his entire life, but for lifetimes before that.

The moment stretched on, and suddenly, he found himself getting angry. He didn’t know where the agitation came from, but it was there all the same. Without conscious decision to do so, he heard himself saying, “You’ve kept me waiting a long time, Torren Braddock.” Torren growled, grabbed the back of Aslan’s neck, and crushed their mouths together in a kiss that lit Aslan up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. It was hard, hungry, demanding, and possessive, consuming him until his world tilted on its axis and ceased to spin, holding them motionless in this one perfect moment of time.

“No!”
a voice roared inside his head, making him jump.
“Leave!
Make him leave!”

“Fight it,
caro
,” Torren panted against his lips. “You’re stronger than he is. Silence him.”

It wasn’t easy, and the voice didn’t completely disappear, but Aslan was able to mute it until it was barely more than a dull whisper.

It was draining, however, as though he’d turned the volume down on the radio but had to fight against the dial to keep it in place.

“Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?” Stavion bit out, obviously unhappy about his lack of knowledge.

Well, he could just join the goddamn club, because Aslan didn’t have a clue, either. Something was different. Something had changed inside Torren, and Aslan’s entire body yearned for the man. “Yeah, okay,” he finally said with a heartfelt sigh. “I’d like to know what’s going on as well.”

Torren smirked at him and kissed the tip of his nose. “Let me tell you a story.”

“Does it start with ‘once upon a time’?” With a sly wink, Torren set him on his feet and nodded. “Actually, it does.”

* * * *

Since Aslan’s friends had wanted to be included in the conversation, they ended up moving their meeting to the spacious library. Torren didn’t really care where they went as long as Aslan remained close enough to touch.

Watching his mate chattering away with his friends, Torren smiled and relaxed back into one of the armchairs. The man was so full of life, babbling excitedly as he waved his hands around in animated movements. His smile could light the darkest well, paling the sun in comparison. He was so beautiful that it almost hurt to look at him.

“You’ve got it bad,” Raven teased him as he flopped down into the chair beside him. “I really wish you could see the dopey look on your face right now.”

“I’ve waited a long time for him.”

“Okay, everyone zip it,” Stavion ordered, settling onto the sofa and calling for Jory to join him.

The Enforcers found seats as well, those with their own mates motioning their men to them. Torren couldn’t have been more pleased when Aslan bounced across the room, climbed right up into his lap, and curled against his chest. “Okay, love, let’s hear it.”

“Whatever we tell you does not leave this room,” Raith began from where he was leaning against the desk at the front of their group. “Not only is it extremely personal, but it could be very dangerous for Aslan and Torren.”

Everyone nodded their understanding and gave verbal vows that they’d not do anything to endanger the lives of their friends. Torren was a little shocked to be counted as a friend amongst the Enforcers, but he found it sparked a flame of warmth inside his chest as well.

Nodding at his brother, Torren gave his silent approval for Raith to begin the story as it had been told to them when they were young.

“Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away.” Raith stopped and winked at Aslan, sending him into a fit of adorable laughter.

Torren picked up the square box of tissues on the table beside him and sent it sailing toward his brother’s head. “Stop flirting with my mate and get on with it, asshole.”

Raith just laughed as he caught the box and placed it on the desk behind him. “Fine, I’ll skip the history lesson and get to the point. In the early fifteen hundreds the Book of the Banished was used to call forth an army of the dead. War ensued. People died. You get the idea.”

They all nodded, though Torren had to fight the urge to groan.

Obviously, his brother was not the most skilled storyteller, but at least he was hitting the main points.

“Well, short story shorter, a circle of thirteen witches was able to cast the souls back into Purgatory where they belonged. Too dangerous in the wrong hands, the book had to be destroyed.”

“Only, when the circle attempted to destroy it, the curse rebounded,” Torren said, taking over the story. “The legend goes that the thirteen fell to their knees and cried out to the heavens as their souls were ripped in two and one half was lost to the universe.”

“That’s horrible,” Aslan whispered, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Were those your ancestors?”

“I’m getting to that part.” He offered his mate a soft smile and pecked his forehead before returning to the story. “Bound in wolf skin and animated by the cursed blood of a vampire, the book sought to bind itself with the closest living soul in a bid for survival.”

“That’s what happened to Camdin.” Galen nodded thoughtfully while he slapped at Bannon’s wandering hand where it snaked up the inside of his thigh. “Would you knock it off?” It was kind of comical the way Bannon huffed and pouted as he sunk back into the cushions and crossed his arms over his chest. Galen just rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, so that’s how Camdin essentially became the book, right?”

“That’s right.” There was a little more to the story about the faerie and his curse, but that part wasn’t for Torren to tell. “Anyway, the circle sealed the book within Camdin so that only one of the thirteen could open it.”

“So, is it your bloodline?” Cassius asked. “Is that how you’re able to open the book?”

Here came the tricky part. Luckily for Torren, Raith took up where he’d left off without having to be asked.

“While Camdin is physically bound to the Book of the Banished, the circle was bound spiritually. They would never die, because the minute one body stopped breathing, another was born.”

“Like reincarnation?”

Raith nodded at the Enforcer. “Something like that. Call it whatever you like.”

“Okay, so what does any of this have to do with Torren and Aslan?” Jory asked from his perch on the arm of Stavion’s chair.

“The fates smiled upon the circle for their sacrifice and gave homes to the torn pieces of their souls.” Torren looked down at the man in his lap and had to swallow around the lump in his throat.

“While shifters, weres, vampires, and whatever have fated mates who complete them, a witch’s
Infinity
is literally their missing half.”

“Torren and Aslan are Twin Flames,” Raith explained. “They are two bodies that share one soul.”