Haven 5: Invincible Read online

  It wasn’t really anything new. Lots of people didn’t want him.

  Still, Torren was supposed to be his mate, so the guy had to like him.

  That was the rule. Granted, he didn’t know all the rules, but he’d asked everyone he’d come in contact with over the past week.

  Kendall and Jory had explained to him about the bond between mates.

  Stavion and Cassius had confirmed it. His friends were happy with their mates, so why was he still alone?

  Maybe he’d been too aggressive. He’d never really kissed anyone simply because he’d wanted to before, and he might have gotten a little carried away. Torren was just so gorgeous, though, and Aslan’s body had lit on fire the moment he’d set eyes on the witch. Torren had been very patient with him, showing him how he liked to be touched and kissed. If he wasn’t interested, surely he wouldn’t have taken the time to do that. Right?

  “Aslan? What are you doing in here?”

  Coming out of his frantic thoughts, Aslan looked up to see Kendall standing over him where he sat in one of the squashy armchairs in the library. Worried and stressed about Torren, the question crossed him the wrong way. “Why can’t I be here? Is there something wrong with me being in the library?” he asked indignantly.

  Instead of getting mad, Kendall just rolled his eyes and knelt on the floor, resting a hand on Aslan’s knee. “I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it. Don’t be a dick. I was just wondering why you were in here alone.”

  His irritation drained away immediately, but he didn’t want to talk about the reasons he’d sought solitude. So, he shrugged and averted his eyes. He’d already confessed all of the sordid details of his brief time with Torren. There was no reason to drudge it up again.

  “It’s Torren, right?” Kendall patted his knee and sighed. “Honey, he’s not ignoring you on purpose. He said he’d be back, didn’t he? Cassius said he’s in Missouri right now, trying to find his brother.”

  “So, he doesn’t know how to use a phone?”

  “Torren doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who thinks about things like that. I think he’s used to being on his own. It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want you. He just…well, he’s just kind of a selfish prick.”

  The corners of his lips twitched, and before he could stop it, the smile spread clear across his face. “I’m trying to be upset. Don’t make me smile.”

  “Aw, but you’re so cute when you smile.” Kendall poked him in the belly button as he laughed and pushed to his feet. “Stop moping around. He’ll be back, and then you can read him the riot act for making you wait so long.”

  Aslan thought it over for a moment and nodded firmly. Reaching out to take the hand Kendall held out for him, he stood from his chair and looked around the room. “His job is really important, isn’t it?” He knew Torren was an elder on The Council. The man had a lot of responsibilities, and a lot of people counted on him.

  “It is,” Kendall agreed. “But you’re important, too. Remember that.”

  “I don’t really know how to be someone’s mate,” Aslan confessed. He certainly didn’t know how to be mated to someone as powerful and prominent as Torren Braddock.

  “I’m still trying to figure it out.” Kendall winked before taking his hand and pulling him toward the door. “You’re probably going to screw up, and Torren will, too. You’ll both do it often and with great gusto as well. Then you’ll kiss and make up. No one is perfect, but you’ll figure it out as you go.”

  Absorbing the words as he allowed Kendall to lead him down the long corridor, Aslan wished he had a little more to go on than that. A starting place would be nice. No one needed to tell him that he was going to screw up—that was pretty much a given. What he really needed to know was about all the stuff in between the times he messed up.

  He knew what everyone thought about him. Even his friends considered him flighty, clueless, and probably marveled that he was able to function at all. It wasn’t that he didn’t care or understand what they were talking about. It wasn’t even that he had a microscopic attention span.

  It was just kind of hard to hear and focus on what they were saying over all of the other voices yelling inside his head.

  Chapter Two

  Torren paced his temporary office in Casper, his head about to explode as he went over the list of things that still needed to be done.

  Two of his brothers were safe. They were making plans to locate the others. Camdin Maywater had been recovered, and once rested, Torren would talk to him about taking the fae seat on The Council.

  The Council. An entire governing body to rule those of their kind, and yet Torren still felt like he was alone in his endeavors. Elder Layke Winters was doing what he could to help, but their current crises involved the Magiks—Torren’s field of expertise by definition.

  There really wasn’t anyone else qualified to do the job.

  It hadn’t been easy, but Torren had finally convinced the other elders to postpone the execution of three of their prisoners. The witch, Natalie Halstead, deserved to die for her crimes against the paranormal world, and specifically those against the children of their world. She had information that he needed, though, and he couldn’t very well pry it out of her if she was dead.

  Phillip McCarthy was the hybrid bastard who’d held him prisoner in Nevada and had almost unleashed something that none of them would have been able to control. He’d been a cruel leader to the Olympia Coven of vampires before his brother, Nicholas, had challenged him and won control of the coven. The magic that lurked inside of him was dark and rotted, but again, Torren needed information from him.

  That left Enforcer Hollis Becker. Torren had no idea what role the shifter hybrid played in any of this mess, but if there was a chance that he was somehow connected to Natalie, well, Torren needed to know that, too.

  “You look like steam is going to start pouring out of your ears,” Lynk teased him as he sidled into the room and dropped down on the sofa. He still looked tired and a little haggard but in better health than he had when he’d first arrived in Casper.

  “You wanted us to help,” Raith added, following Lynk into the room. “You’re not letting us help, though.”

  “Both of you need to rest,” Torren hedged. He did want their help, but he was having trouble letting go and delegating the responsibilities.

  “Some things never change.” Raith settled into one of the armchairs and shook his head. “You’re such a control freak, brother.

  Believe it or not, both Lynk and myself are very capable witches. You don’t have to do everything on your own.” Logically, Torren knew this was true. However, he bought into the saying that if he wanted something done right, he should do it himself. He’d learned a long time ago not to depend on anyone.

  People had proven over and over that they would only let him down.

  He didn’t want to depend on someone, only to find out that when he needed them most, they vanished to leave him hanging in the wind.

  It wasn’t fair to his siblings. They’d never once given him a reason to doubt their word or loyalty. The life he’d led since they’d parted ways had jaded him, though, and he couldn’t just cast his doubts away like a dog shaking off water.

  “I heard a rumor,” Lynk said slowly, a mischievous smile sliding over his lips. “Is it true that you found your mate?” Torren kept his back to his brothers as he stared out the window into the night. “Yes.” Aslan probably hated him by now, though. It had been almost ten days since he’d said his good-byes with promises to return soon. He hadn’t called, hadn’t sent Aslan a message, or in any other way tried to make contact with him.

  Aslan made him weak. In the few minutes he’d spent with the younger man, Torren had entertained fantasies of giving up his rightful seat on The Council, ignoring all of his responsibilities, and just spending the rest of his days with his mate.

  Of course, he couldn’t do any of those things. So, it was just better for him to keep his distance until he had
things straightened out with the prisoners and was on the right track to finding his still-missing brothers.

  “So, where is she?”

  “He.”

  If this surprised either of them, his brothers didn’t show it.

  “Okay,” Raith said calmly. “Where is he?”

  “Where he’ll be safe.” Besides Aslan being a huge distraction for him, it would also be very dangerous for the little man if the wrong people found out that he was mated to Torren. Natalie had attempted to kidnap Torren’s children in a desperate attempt to force him to hand over his powers to her.

  He didn’t even know his kids. Hell, until they’d found him in that attic in Phoenix, he hadn’t even known he had kids. Part of him still wasn’t completely convinced that the shifter pups belonged to him, either. When he’d heard who their mother was, it had seemed plausible. He’d had a brief affair with the wolf, but he didn’t remember exactly when.

  Still, he wanted to see the twins, find out for sure if they were his, and then…well, he didn’t exactly know what he wanted to do. The pups had been adopted by two she-wolves who loved them very much. He didn’t want to take the babies away from the women, but if they were indeed his children, they’d been born into a legacy that none of them could simply ignore.

  Either way, he wasn’t looking forward to the meeting and possible confrontation. He hadn’t met Raina—one of the pups’ mothers—but he’d met her brothers. Not only were they huge werewolves, but they hated Torren with every fiber of their beings. Not that he could blame them for trying to protect their sister and the people she loved, but he wasn’t interested in getting into a pissing contest with the men.

  “You know you’re being an asshole without me needing to tell you, right?”

  Torren pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily before turning to face Raith. “I check on him, but I need to settle things here before we can be together.” He hadn’t asked anyone about Aslan’s well-being. While he respected the Enforcers and maybe even considered a few of them friends, he didn’t trust them with something so important.

  At least four times since he’d left Aslan in Haven, Torren had traveled outside of his body, using his power of etheric projection to visit his mate’s room and watch him sleep. With each new visit, Aslan looked more tired and drained than the last.

  When Torren had checked on him three days ago, the little man had been sleeping fitfully, muttering under his breath as he thrashed around on the mattress. The dark circles under his eyes were prominent, even in the dim light of the room, and he looked thinner than when Torren had seen him in person. Seeing his mate like that caused a deep, painful ache in his heart, but there had been nothing he could do to soothe Aslan’s distress.

  Things had been hectic since that night, and he hadn’t been able to return. Still, Aslan was never far from his thoughts, and Torren knew he’d be making another trip once everyone was asleep.

  His brothers weren’t impressed, though. “You’re an idiot,” Lynk said with disgust, shaking his head while his eyes rolled in exaggeration. “Just go bond with him, already. He’ll be safer, you’ll be less distracted, and everyone will be a hell of a lot happier.” The mating bond between a witch and his or her consort was eternal. They would be twined together in every way possible—heart, mind, spirit, and lifeline. As long as one heart continued to beat, the other couldn’t die. It was one of the strongest, purest bits of magic in the world, but it still had its limits.

  “Bonding with him isn’t guaranteed to keep him alive,” Torren responded flatly. Gunshot wounds, stab wounds, and a slew of other injuries could be overcome with their mating. Things like decapitation or having their hearts removed from their bodies—there was no coming back from that.

  “Damn, you’re a stubborn asshole.” Raith slouched back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, looking more stubborn than Torren was sure he ever had. “It’s been a long time since we last saw each other, but I can still read you like a book. You’re completely fucking miserable, and you have no one to blame but yourself.”

  “I have a stressful job. That doesn’t mean I’m miserable or that it has anything to do with Aslan.” Maybe keeping his distance wasn’t the most honorable thing to do, but it was with good intentions.

  Unless they could sort out the problems amongst the different communities and restore some kind of balance within their world, they were headed for war.

  “Oh, forget it. Tor doesn’t do emotional attachment.” Lynk yawned hugely before rising to his feet. “I’m going to bed. Good luck taking over the world.”

  Torren didn’t think that was fair at all. He was trying to save their world—not rule it. It was no secret that he was somewhat emotionally stunted when it came to personal relationships and expressing his feelings, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t have feelings.

  He still stood by his claims that at some point everyone he allowed close to him would invariably let him down. While he cared deeply for his brothers, he had to include them in his statement.

  Most likely they wouldn’t mean to fail him, but given the selfishness of human nature—and paranormals were not excluded from this nature—it was very much every man for himself. When given the choice, survival instincts took over, and people would without question choose themselves and their needs above others.

  Raith pushed to his feet as well and shook his head, a sad look playing over his face. “It’s okay to trust people, Torren. Not everyone is going to hurt you.”

  Torren didn’t refute the man’s words as he watched him walk out of the room, but he knew different. And he knew it all too well.

  * * * *

  “You came back.” His eyes were still closed, but it was as if he could feel the presence of someone else in his room. He’d felt it at least twice before, but when he’d finally crawled out of the haze of sleep, he’d always been alone.

  “You look tired, caro. You aren’t taking care of yourself.” The smile that tilted the corners of his lips upward couldn’t be stopped. Aslan didn’t want to open his eyes, though. It might be a dream, and if he opened his eyes, he’d wake up to find the room empty. “I miss you,” he whispered. It didn’t make any sense. He’d spent a whole ten minutes with the man. How could he possibly miss him?

  “And I miss you,” Torren replied very quietly, just barely above a whisper. He sounded sad. Why was he sad?

  Blinking open his eyes, wanting to see the look on Torren’s face to confirm his suspicions, Aslan frowned when he got a good look at his mate. “You’re all glowy again.”

  Torren smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His onyx eyes looked haunted, lost. “It’s not safe for me to come here, but I had to make sure you were okay.”

  “You’ve been here before.” It wasn’t an accusation, nor was it a question. It was just a simple statement. Those other times when he’d felt like someone was watching him, hovering near him protectively, it had been Torren.

  Nodding slowly, Torren never took his eyes off him. “You’ve had bad dreams.”

  Pushing up to a sitting position, Aslan curled his legs closer to his body and pulled the blankets up around his shoulders. “Why are you so sad?”

  The question obviously surprised his mate. Torren’s eyebrows lifted, his eyes widened, and his mouth fell open as if he would say something. Then the look was quickly—and unsurprisingly—turned to one of denial.

  Aslan didn’t understand why people, and men in particular, felt the need to hide when they were sad. Maybe they thought it made them weak. Sadness was a natural human reaction to unpleasant things, though. Aslan had been sad plenty of times in his life. He didn’t think that made him any less of a man, or any more of a weakling.

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.” He pulled one of his arms out of the blanket and patted the mattress beside him. “Come sit down. We can talk about something else.” Again, Torren looked surprised. Hesitantly, he closed the short distance between them and eased down
onto Aslan’s bed. The mattress dipped with his weight, and though Aslan could still see right through him, he wondered if he could touch the man beside him.

  So, that’s what he did. His fingertips slid over the back of Torren’s hand, very gently caressing the knuckles. He could feel something, but it wasn’t as substantial as if he had been touching his own hand. “I can touch you, but not really.” He looked up and smiled as he tilted his head to the side. “Does that make sense?” Probably not. Not often did anything he said make sense.

  Torren’s lips crooked on one side into a half smile. “It makes sense. What would you like to talk about?” His mate was awfully formal. Maybe he’d been raised that way.

  Perhaps he’d gone to some preppy school where they taught classes in manners along with the rest of the curriculum. “Why didn’t you come back for real?” It was the question he’d been dying to ask, and now seemed like the perfect opportunity.

  “I…” Torren trailed off and pressed his lips together. Apparently, whatever he’d been about to say didn’t sit well with him for some reason. “You are a distraction.”

  Well, that hurt.

  “I told you so,” a feminine voice whispered inside his head.

  “We all told you that he was an asshole,” another voice commented, this one masculine, older, and with a slight accent.

  “You can do so much better than him. Just look at the way he won’t even meet your eyes. He doesn’t deserve you.” The last voice was also masculine, but hard, mean, and always sent a shiver down Aslan’s spine.

  “Shut up,” he whispered. He didn’t know how long he’d have with his mate, and he didn’t want to miss a second of it because the imaginary friends in his head wouldn’t shut the hell up.

  “Excuse me?” Torren shifted so that he could face him fully and frowned. “Did you just tell me to shut up?”