Chapter Seven

 

 

 

Before Tailor could react, Dhani shifted to his leopard form and bounded through the open front door of the cabin. Tailor looked to Laya, who was trying to hold in quiet sobs. He had no doubt at that moment she’d meant well for her son, but he couldn’t bring himself to take pity on her. It was her actions that had inadvertently brought Dhani pain throughout his entire life.

“Stay here,” he said forcefully, then shifted and flew out of the cabin in search of his mate. He rose high into the sky, following Dhani’s scent. The feline form was easy to spot on the ground, racing farther into the forest, away from the community. Dhani’s sleek form was beautiful even from Tailor’s height. Tailor remained above the trees for a time to give Dhani space.

Half an hour later, Dhani stumbled and rolled to a jarring halt on the outskirts of a small clearing. Tailor swooped down to perch on the branch of a nearby tree. Dhani had shifted back to his human form and was kneeling on his hands and knees with his head hanging low. His hair had come loose and fell like a frayed red and white curtain over his face. When he finally stood shakily, he clawed both hands into his hair and braced his head as though in pain.

Tailor jumped down and shifted by the time his feet hit the ground. “Dhani,” he started in a low tone.

Dhani jerked around to face him. For a brief moment, Tailor thought he saw bright silver eclipse the hazel in his mate’s eyes. In the next, Dhani clenched his eyes shut and wrapped his arms around his waist, doubling over in obvious pain.

Panic seized Tailor and he took several steps forward. Something was wrong. He scanned his mate’s body, looking for any signs that he’d been injured during his flight from the cabin, but there were none. Tailor’s gaze widened in disbelief when more of his mate’s hair turned white right there in front of him. Several strands of coppery red paled throughout Dhani’s hair until it was all interlaced with full lengths of ivory.

Tailor was positive now the transformation was a result of Dhani’s time spent with Roh Se Kahn, yet the change didn’t seem to be happening gradually. It came in leaps and bounds. His mind raced back to the instances when the white in Dhani’s hair had grown noticeably. The first had been outside the Alpha’s house after Dhani’s nervous breakdown. The second after Tula had shown up at the cabin, and now following Laya’s appearance. Perhaps the correlation was in the strong emotions Dhani felt during each instance.

He moved closer and reached out to sooth his mate. “It’s okay, baby.”

Dhani reared back, tripping over his own feet in his haste. “Don’t touch me!”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Again, he could’ve sworn Dhani’s eyes flashed to silver when he looked up.

“You have that the other way around,” Dhani said through clenched teeth.

The threat in his voice made Tailor’s blood run cold, but there was something more. While rage still suffused Dhani’s energy, torment lined his exquisite features. He was afraid, Tailor realized, and whatever had him scared had more to do with Roh Se Kahn than Laya. Tailor would bet his life on it. He forced his nerves to calm and stifled his emotions, hoping it would help Dhani regain control. “Tell me what I can do.”

A minute passed before Dhani exhaled on a sob and charged into Tailor’s arms, just as he had the night of Tula’s arrival. He pulled Tailor down for a kiss, his body stiff and lips pressed a little too tight, as though he couldn’t breathe in. There was none of the passion Tailor knew his mate was capable of. The kiss was mechanical, and at the same time, frantic.

Instead of pulling away, however, Tailor crushed Dhani close and took command, pushing his tongue into his mate’s mouth and delving into his sweet recesses. Despite the gravity of the situation, arousal surged into him at the feel of Dhani’s eagerness. He let it seep into his energy and felt an awakening response in his mate.

On the edge of his thoughts, he knew something wasn’t right about Dhani’s passion. Dhani was running away, trying to escape whatever held him in its grip, and was using Tailor for shelter. As before, his interest seemed to be born of desperation and need rather than desire. Tailor had felt it occasionally in the past with women who had lain with him only for a momentary chance to leave behind the stress of their lives. Even he had been guilty of using sex as an escape for several months before he’d come to terms with Dominic’s death.

What he couldn’t figure out, though, was what Dhani was running from. Instinct told him it was more than just memories and the nightmares that made him struggle in Tailor’s arms when they slept together. It was as if Roh Se Kahn still had a physical hold on him, and Dhani wasn’t strong enough to fight it.

Tailor firmed his resolve and tilted Dhani’s head back, pushing deeper into his mate’s mouth. The tension in Dhani’s body lessened as he opened fully with a moan. Still, there was urgency in his response. His eyes as he glanced up reflected his spirit, the color of pale green on stained glass. He grabbed the front of Tailor’s shirt and ripped it open, scoring Tailor’s chest with claws that had emerged from his nails.

Tailor ignored the pain, focusing only on giving his mate what he needed. When Dhani dropped to his knees and raked his claws down Tailor’s abdomen, trying to tear open his jeans, blood began to pound through Tailor’s veins. The pain only added to his arousal and the sight of his mate so eager to take all of him pushed him past the boundaries of his concern.

Quickly, he unbuttoned his pants and lowered them, freeing his engorged cock. Dhani showed no hesitation. He grasped Tailor’s thighs and engulfed him, surrounding the whole of Tailor’s length with the searing heat of his mouth.

Tailor rocked back on his heels with a grunt. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced, not even with his first mate. He and Dominic had never had the chance to become truly intimate with each other. Not in the way lovers did when desire overcame reason. And no other woman or man had ever evoked the kind of attraction he felt for Dhani.

Dhani was like a storm. Timid at first, then staggering in his ferocity. He sealed his lips around the base of Tailor’s erection, creating intense suction as he raised his mouth to the tip then went back down, over and over again. His tongue rasped along Tailor’s sensitive skin, curling around his head and flicking across his tip.

Tailor could feel his cock pulsing with need, begging for more attention. He took hold of Dhani’s head and thrust with his hips, gasping at the feel of Dhani’s throat constricting around him. It took all of his restraint to keep from slamming into his mate’s willing mouth and seeking out his release. He wanted more, needed more.

A part of him became aware of Dhani’s influence over him. The potency of lust permeating Dhani’s energy was obscuring Tailor’s rationality. This wasn’t the way he wanted their relationship to progress. He wanted to make love to his mate. To prove to him through gentleness and acceptance that he would always be there for the right reasons. Not simply because of the pleasure Dhani gave him.

But as Dhani hummed his eagerness, causing vibrations to ripple along Tailor’s flesh, he lost all concentration and self-control. The drive to sink himself into his mate’s warm hole was overwhelming.

He yanked Dhani up and claimed his mouth as he kicked off his shoes and pants. Dhani pulled away only long enough to shed his own clothes, then jumped onto Tailor, wrapping his legs around Tailor’s waist. Their mouths fused together again and Tailor pressed the tip of his hard shaft firmly against his mate’s entrance. Anticipation raced like electric currents through his blood, goading him to take what Dhani offered, but his protective instincts flared, making him pause.

He was a large man, and taking Dhani without preparation would hurt him. Tailor drew back and panted heavily into Dhani’s mouth. “We can’t do this here. I won’t hurt you.”

Dhani merely smiled in understanding and pulled at one of Tailor’s arms. Tailor shifted his mate’s slight weight to his other arm, holding him easily. For a brief second, he marveled at the way Dhani’s slender body fit so perfectly against his. The way Dhani’s slim curves molded around his corded muscles like their bodies had been made for each other.

Dhani drew Tailor’s hand to his mouth and sucked in two of his fingers. He lathered them with saliva, sliding his tongue evocatively around them as he had with Tailor’s cock. Tailor stared, enthralled at the erotic sight, until Dhani let go. He brought his fingers to his mate’s entrance and eased them in, rolling them to stretch Dhani’s entrance as much as he could.

Dhani buried his face in Tailor’s neck and whimpered, “Please. Please, I need you.”

The stark craving in his mate’s voice stole the last of Tailor’s reserve. He lined up the head of his dick with Dhani’s ass and sank himself into the depths of his mate’s hole. The sensation of Dhani’s hot ridges squeezing him tightly drove every other thought from his mind. He encircled his mate’s smaller frame in his arms and used the leverage to pump into him in long, deep strokes.

Dhani clung to him, pressing his face into the curve of Tailor’s neck and groaning with panting breaths. The brace of his arms around Tailor’s neck strengthened, yet it didn’t counter the authority of Tailor’s control. The way he yielded to Tailor’s dominance, giving him all the control, caused tendrils of excitement to spiral throughout Tailor’s being.

He pummeled into his mate harder and felt the demanding need of Dhani’s energy rise. It made his head swim and his cock throb with increasing pressure. Then Dhani threw his head back and shouted. Ropes of cum spurted from his rigid length, bathing them both.

Tailor felt the force of his climax crest as Dhani’s muscles clamped down around him. He yelled out his own release as he impaled his mate onto his thick length one last time. His body shook with the tremors of his aftermath and he held fast to Dhani’s warmth until his legs threatened to give out.

Without letting go, he knelt down then lay back onto the cold ground, smiling when Dhani curled up on top of him.

Time passed with only their soft breaths and the sounds of nature surrounding them. Tailor closed his eyes, giving in to the tranquility in his soul. He surrendered to the feel of his mate encasing him and forgot about what the future might hold. Dhani was safe, in his arms, and that was all that mattered.

 

* * * *

 

A cool breeze wafted over Dhani, waking him from his slumber. He stirred and immediately felt a band of arms tighten around him. Tailor’s reassuring scent filled him, making him smile. He snuggled into his mate’s hold, tempted to go back to sleep, until a pang of hunger hit his stomach. When another draft of cool air made him shiver, he pushed himself out of Tailor’s grasp.

Tailor lay underneath him, gazing up with infinite patience. It was an expression Dhani was becoming familiar with, yet one that still confused him. When had the asshole from his past turned into the knight in shining armor of his present?

He instantly berated himself for that thought. Tailor didn’t deserve his anger, and Dhani was tired of clinging to the pain of his mate’s betrayal. That part of his life was over. Tailor had shown him nothing but acceptance since his return, and that alone was more than he ever could’ve hoped for.

Tailor lifted a hand to thread his fingers through Dhani’s hair. Dhani leaned into the soothing gesture, until he caught sight of the deep furrows in Tailor’s chest. Four long claw marks had been scraped into Tailor’s flesh on each side, deep enough to leave marred trails of dried blood painting the skin over his ribs. Farther down were more lacerations in the same formation running from the top of Tailor’s abs to his lower midsection. It appeared as if a wild animal had tried to gut him.

“How did you get these?” Dhani breathed as he brushed his fingers over the wounds. They were dark in the fading sunlight and flushed by swollen, red skin on the outer edges.

Tailor frowned, then shook his head dismissively. “Nothing. How do you feel?”

The question caught Dhani off-guard. He felt fine. It was his mate he should be worried about. Then the memories of what happened crowded into his head.

His mother, Layzani, appearing out of nowhere. His blind rage and escape into the woods. The power of Roh Se Kahn’s soul rising up in response to his anger and challenging him for control.

He’d been wild with the need to contain it. To keep it from devouring him. The more he’d resisted it, the more it had fought back with a cold so intense, he’d felt like he was burning alive from the inside.

Then Tailor had shown up with his kindness and steel fortitude. He’d been the rock Dhani knew he could cling to. The only protection he could trust to drive away the fury of Roh Se Kahn’s madness with the emotions Tailor evoked in him. Even when he’d learned Tailor had kept Layzani’s presence a secret, he’d known his mate hadn’t meant to hurt him.

Yet, he couldn’t say the same for himself. He recalled the threat he’d made when Tailor had tried to touch him. Only it hadn’t been his threat. By that time, the darkness in him had grown so powerful, it had temporarily slipped past his control. Roh Se Kahn had taken over and spoken through him. It had taken all that he had to reclaim his soul to keep Roh Se Kahn from harming his mate.

He ghosted his fingers over Tailor’s wounds, too afraid to touch them. “I did this,” he whispered. The dark God may have taken control for a few brief seconds, but it had been his frantic need to take what his mate offered that had harmed Tailor in the end.

Tailor took his hand and placed it on his chest above his beating heart. “You didn’t hurt me. I’ve suffered far worse, love. I know what’s going on. Roh Se Kahn still has influence over you. I don’t know how hard this must be for you, but I swear, I’ll be here to help you through it.”

Dhani stilled in dread. Was it possible Tailor knew about the trade Roh Se Kahn had forced? That he’d taken a part of Dhani and replaced it with a piece of his own soul? More importantly, what had Tailor meant when he’d used the term ‘Love’?

“What is it, daishen?” Tailor asked after a period of silence.

Dhani frowned, unsure of what to think. “You used the word ‘Love’.”

Tailor shifted his gaze to the side uneasily. “I know this isn’t the time, and I have no right to feel the way I do.” He took a deep breath then looked directly at Dhani. “I love you. I have since the day I met you.”

Warmth bloomed in Dhani’s chest and his lips slowly curved up in a smile.

“And not just because we’re mates,” Tailor continued. “You’re kind and forgiving in spite of everything you’ve gone through. I was a fool to push you away. An idiot. I was just scared of losing you like I’d lost Dominic. Not that I think you’re Dominic. I loved him, but you’re the one I want to be with. I love—”

Dhani shut him up with a kiss. Excitement made his heart pound and his body soar with pleasure. So long… He’d waited so long to hear those words and had no doubt in his mind they were meant only for him. He’d never been jealous of Dominic. It had been Tailor’s unshakable love for his first mate that had made Dhani certain Tailor was worth waiting for. Any man who could love that completely could love again, if he was given the chance to.

He sat up and blinked the tears from his eyes. “I love you, too.”

Tailor met his gaze unwaveringly and gave a small smile. Dhani could feel the truth of Tailor’s conviction in his energy, yet it felt like there was something else Tailor was hiding from him. As though Tailor was purposefully suppressing a part of his emotions just as he had in the past.

When Dhani shook with a chill from the wind, Tailor tapped him on the thigh. “We should get back.”

Dhani hesitated at the sudden distance of his mate, but decided to let it go for now. He found his scattered clothes with Tailor’s help, then paused again while dressing when his thoughts veered back to Tailor’s previous statement. “What did you mean when you said you know Roh Se Kahn still has influence over me?”

Dhani pulled on his shoes, avoiding his mate’s gaze and holding his breath. As thrilling as it had been to learn that his mate loved him, Tailor’s knowledge of the truth behind Roh Se Kahn’s scheme would put an end to their relationship faster than Dhani had foreseen. Duty was everything to Tailor. Dhani knew that. There was no way Tailor would ignore the fact that Roh Se Kahn would eventually overpower Dhani’s will and force him to carry out his plans.

Tailor knelt to take Dhani’s face in both hands. “No one can go through what you have and come out unscarred. Being around him has changed you. It’s why your hair is turning white. I’ll never forgive myself for making you feel like you couldn’t trust me. I respect the sacrifice you made in giving your freedom for Keenan’s life, but I should’ve been there. I swear on my life Roh Se Kahn will never touch you again.”

More moisture sprang to Dhani’s eyes as relief swept through him. So his mate didn’t know. He still had a little more time. Yet, how much was that time worth with the threat of Roh Se Kahn’s darkness looming over his head? Even now, he could feel the dark God’s soul hanging on the precipice of his tentative control. One more bout of rage and Dhani didn’t know if he would be able to come back from the edge of Roh Se Kahn’s insanity.

I’ll just have to control my anger, Dhani told himself. He didn’t want to let his mate go for a second longer than he had to. Tailor was his sanctuary, his freedom, his love—if only for a short while.

They shifted and headed back toward the cabin. Tailor led the way, streaming swiftly through the shaded trees. Sometime later, he cut in front of Dhani’s path to snatch up a field mouse peeking from its burrow. After snapping the mouse’s neck, he peered over at Dhani with an eloquent expression. Dhani rolled his eyes and mewled, then sought out a rabbit to feed on.

When Dhani was done, he took off at a lope in the direction of the cabin. Tailor gave a shrill cry of displeasure at Dhani’s poor appetite, but Dhani couldn’t force himself to eat any more. His stomach was tied in knots over the prospect of seeing his mother again. With any luck, she’d heeded his sharp request and left, though he highly doubted it.

At the steps leading to the cabin, he stopped and shifted back, frozen with trepidation. The lights were on inside and a slim profile paced in front of the windows.

Tailor took back his human form beside him and took his hand. “You don’t have to do this. I can tell her to leave.”

The temptation to let his mate take care of it was strong. The yearning Dhani had felt to see his mother again had died years ago, along with his innocence. It was so easy to hate her—to blame her for the misery of his life—but he couldn’t give in to that. Not with Roh Se Kahn’s soul hungering for the chance to feed off his anger and take control. “No. I have to do this.”

They went into the cabin together and simultaneously flinched from the miasma of odors that assaulted them. On the coffee table in the living room was every food item known to man. The table was littered with pizza, chicken, sushi, Mexican food and several different varieties of Asian food he couldn’t begin to identify.

Cy was chugging a beer when he walked in from the kitchen and almost choked in surprise at the sight of Dhani and Tailor. “Thank the Mother you’re both here. This woman ordered every Gods-damned meal from every restaurant she could find in the human town, then made me pick it all up. Have I eaten? No, of course not! ’Cause she wouldn’t let me!”

Laya flashed him a menacing glare. “This is for my son.”

Cy glared back. “I’m just sayin’, tip the driver. When did that custom become outdated?”

Dhani fought the grin twitching at his lips. Cy was so much like Tailor, it was scary.

Laya huffed then turned to Dhani in earnest. “I thought you might be hungry when you got back. I didn’t know what you’d like so…I got a little bit of everything.”

Quinn came in from the kitchen waving a fried chicken T.V. dinner in his hand. “This is why humans are obese and why we’re following in their footsteps. When did fat become the main ingredient in convenience? We’re shifters, for fuck’s sake. We can feed off the— Dhani!” He dropped the dinner and ran to Dhani, pulling him into a tight hug. “Your mom told me you’d left. I had to come over to make sure you were okay.”

Dhani returned Quinn’s hug, grateful for his concern. At the doorway to the kitchen was Quinn’s mate, Manning, who was pouring whiskey into the three glasses he held. He strode to Quinn and gently pushed him aside, saying, “Let the man breathe.” He handed a glass to Dhani. “Drink this. Trust me, it’ll help.” The second glass he gave to Tailor and the last he offered to his mate. When Quinn wrinkled his nose and averted his face, he shrugged and kept the glass for himself.

Quinn reached out to touch a lock of Dhani’s hair. “Did you bleach your hair recently?”

Dhani pulled his hair over his shoulder, noticing with dread that more of it had turned white. Fortunately, Laya interrupted before he could think of a lie.

Laya cleared her throat, looking around at everyone nervously. “I appreciate the support all of you are showing my son, but I’d like to speak with him alone.”

As one, all eyes turned to Dhani. He looked around at the familiar faces, seeing the worry and protection they all held for him, and was awed by their commitment to his safety. In their energies, he could feel their caring sentiment, even in Cy, who he trusted the least. It humbled him, and at the same time, gave him confidence.

However, their presence couldn’t quite diminish the anger he felt over what his mother had done. Air rasped through his lungs as his throat constricted with pain. The darkness inside him surged forth and threatened to swallow him whole. He reeled around, gave the glass to Tailor then clasped onto Tailor’s bare midsection, pressing his forehead onto his mate’s solid chest. His palms sparked with the spitting electricity of Roh Se Kahn’s power fighting for dominance, causing Tailor’s body to jerk spasmodically.

At any moment, Dhani expected Tailor to shove him away in suspicion or shock, or at the very least, fear. But Tailor didn’t. Instead, he pulled Dhani close and held him in the circle of his arms. Dhani knew he had to be causing his mate pain, yet Tailor refused to let go of him. The knowledge somehow brought Dhani back to his senses and gave him the courage to push down the darkness.

He gulped in several deep breaths of air, trying to compose himself, then looked up to find the same infinite patience gazing down at him from his mate’s clear blue eyes.

Tailor leaned down and whispered in his ear, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Dhani nodded then took back his glass of whiskey and swallowed half of it. “I’m okay.” He walked to one of the recliners and sat down. To Laya, he said, “I want them here.”

Laya gave a disapproving look. “Son, I don’t think—”

“I’m not your son,” Dhani snapped. He took another calming breath when Tailor squeezed his shoulder then sat in the chair beside him. “Anything you have to say to me, you can say to them.”

She paused, her lips twisting in an awkward smile. “Are you hungry?” When Dhani only gave her a deadpan stare, she straightened with a cursory nod. “All right then, I’ll get to the point.”

She was silent for minute and walked to the fireplace as if gathering her thoughts. Quinn, Manning and Cy sat on the couch opposite Dhani. Cy looked at Tailor then down at the welts on his chest, wiggling his brows with a knowing grin. Tailor merely narrowed his gaze in warning.

“When I found Tailor,” Laya began, “I told him why I had to give you up. You father and I were bonded mates by the time I became pregnant with you. I loved him very much, but I learned later that he wasn’t the man I thought he was.”

She went on to say that she’d discovered her mate was in league with many other Ba’Kal, Vam’kir and humans who all worshiped Roh Se Kahn. How they had devised a plan to free Roh Se Kahn from his prison with a dark spell that had been preserved and hidden for more than two millennia. By the time she’d found out who her mate truly served, it had been too late. The group had already started the incantation, testing it on several Ba’Kal needed for the light of their spirits.

She claimed she’d tried to run away, but her mate had refused to let her leave. He couldn’t risk her telling anyone and was convinced she would eventually come to accept the dark God as the rightful ruler over all the races. For six years, he’d held her and Dhani captive at Roh Se Kahn’s castle until she’d managed to escape to the United States.

Dhani frowned. “I don’t remember my father or growing up in a castle.” In all honesty, he barely remembered his mother. He had only vague snatches of his youth. The only thing he recalled clearly was the day she’d left him.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” she said sorrowfully. “Your father kept us secluded and didn’t want to have much to do with you until you were older. I’d tried numerous times to escape, killing a few of the guards during my attempts. At that point, I think he would’ve killed me if our life forces hadn’t been tied together by our bond. I knew he would come looking for us and try to raise you as a follower of Roh Se Kahn. I had to give you up to keep you safe. It was the only option.”

It made sense, though Dhani couldn’t imagine being so utterly clueless about one’s mate. He glanced over at Tailor, certain he would be able to tell if the man were keeping secrets that important from him. Then again, wasn’t he keeping a secret far worse? He harbored a sliver of the dark God’s soul, essentially putting everyone around him in danger. All because he couldn’t bear to let his mate go yet.

I’m no better than my father, he thought with frightening realization.

Laya wrung her hands nervously. “What I haven’t told Tailor yet is what happened when my mate and the other followers succeeded in the incantation. When the spell was performed on the fifth Ba’Kal and his spirit was ripped from his body, it didn’t die. You see, it wasn’t the spirit they needed, necessarily. It was the separation of the spirit from the man that released the power of the light in the Ba’Kal. When the man died, the spirit was forced to find a new home to avoid dying.”

She paused for long seconds, then said, “The spirit entered my womb and joined with you, Dhani. I think it was only able to do that because you were still unmolded and innocent. That’s why you’ve always felt two spirits inside of you when all other Ba’Kal have just one. The joining sent me into labor immediately and you were born a month premature.”

Dhani felt the blood drain from his face. He’d never told anyone about his second spirit, not even Keenan. He’d been too afraid of what it might mean. That he was abnormal, a freak. To him, however, his falcon had been as much a part of him as his leopard. They’d kept him sane during the torture and loneliness of his childhood.

Now his falcon was gone, perhaps forever. It was the piece of him Roh Se Kahn had taken in exchange for a part of his own soul. The perfect solution for the dark God. By leaving Dhani’s leopard inside him, no one would suspect he’d been changed. It was also what had given Roh Se Kahn the ability to send him back to the human realm.

Just as Dhani’s father had done, Roh Se Kahn had ripped Dhani’s second spirit from him and used the light from the separation to open a rift to the human realm. The dark God would’ve passed through himself if it were possible, but to create a large enough rift would have required the dormant light of several others, as the group of Roh Se Kahn’s followers had provided during the first incantation that had freed him.

Although Dhani had lost all communication with his spirits upon being dragged into the alternate realm, he’d felt the separation of his falcon keenly. It had almost driven him insane when Roh Se Kahn had performed the spell to send him back. After Dhani’s failed attempt at suicide, however, he’d had no choice except to deal with it.

Tailor creased his brow. “You have a second spirit? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Dhani took another drink and winced as the liquor scorched his dry throat.

“Because it’s hard being different,” Quinn replied for him, a note of sympathy in his voice. “You can be afraid of what others might think, even when you know they love you.”

Dhani nodded, surprised again at the way Quinn could read him so easily. He supposed they both had more in common than he’d originally thought. Quinn had been the Aucinthe. The one person in the world with the power to bring about the rebirth of the Bassen’kir. In a similar fashion, Dhani was the only Ba’Kal ever born with two spirits.

Quinn then turned an accusatory glare on Tailor. “And you weren’t exactly the most receptive person when you met him.”

Tailor twisted his lips wryly. “I was an asshole.”

Quinn snorted his agreement.

“That’s not all,” Laya cut in. She looked from Tailor to Dhani and back again, then said slowly, “The fifth Ba’Kal my mate used for the spell, the man whose spirit entered my son”—she took a hesitant breath—“his name was Dominic.”

Silence filled the room. Dhani frowned in confusion at the significance of that name. It was oddly familiar. Then it hit him, and the room seemed to tilt around him. Nausea rolled through his stomach as he turned to look at his mate in horror.

His second spirit had belonged to Tailor’s first mate.

Tailor’s skin turned ashen and his muscles strained with tension. There was no emotion in his energy or on his face. Nothing to portray what he was feeling.

No one moved or said a word until Tailor rose stiffly and left the room. Dhani flinched when he heard the front door open and close. His mind was blank at first, trying to grasp the concept of what he’d just been told.

He carried, or had carried, the spirit of the man who’d originally been chosen by Miel Se Luuda to be Tailor’s mate. He’d never been meant for Tailor after all. They were only tied together because of some sick twist of fate. A cruel joke devised by the Mother to give them both the fantasy of happiness.

It wasn’t real. None of it had ever been real. Tailor’s attraction to him had only been the call of Dominic’s spirit reaching out to him through Dhani. Once again, his life had wrapped him up in another lie.

First, his mother had faked her own death to get rid of him. Then, when he and Keenan had been rescued from the rogue Vam’kir, he’d thought things could only get better, only to be sucked into an alternate realm by Roh Se Kahn to save his friend’s life. Now, he was learning that the connection between him and his mate had nothing to do with him at all. On top of everything, he had no right to be there. Evil dwelled inside him and he’d been hiding it from the start.

He was nothing more than a minion. A living lie.

He looked around at the faces staring back at him, all holding a mixture of disbelief and pity. It was more than he could handle.

Barely reining in the sobs suffocating him, he ran from the room and took the stairs two at a time to his bedroom. He slammed the door behind him then went to the closet and began rummaging through the boxes on the top shelf. It was there somewhere. It had to be. He’d seen it before when he’d been going through the clothes Tailor had bought for him.

Hastily, he swiped at the blurring moisture in his eyes, growling in frustration. He had to do this. It had to be possible. The universe had no right to demand that someone should live with so much pain. The mounting pressure in his chest threatened to rip his heart apart, unable to contain the agony.

His hands shook violently as he reached for the last box on the shelf. Twin sparks of electricity bolted from his palms, exploding the box before he could grab it. Bits of cardboard rained down around him and the heavy objects inside clattered to the floor. One was the leather-hilted dagger he’d found two days ago.

He snatched it up then went to stand in front of the dresser mirror. His hair was almost completely white now and streaks of tears stained his flushed cheeks.

He was an abomination. The darkness in him was beating against his will, trying to drown him. When he’d been sent back to this realm, his only hope, the only thing that had taken away his despair, was the thought of seeing Tailor again. All he’d wanted was to find that brief moment of happiness he’d been searching for his entire life.

But Tailor wasn’t his anymore. He never had been. The dream Dhani had been clinging to was still just that—a dream. Without Tailor, there wasn’t any reason to keep fighting.

At the same time, though, he couldn’t simply give himself over to the dark God. He refused to be the instrument of Tailor’s destruction.

Dhani gripped the dagger in both hands and pressed the tip to his chest. He took one last breath then jerked the blade toward him with all his strength. It nicked his shirt before it flew out of his hands and embedded itself into the nearest wall.

Waves of anguish crashed into him and he let out a wild scream, punching the mirror in front of him. He turned and sank down, his back hitting the dresser. The sobs he’d held in came pouring out beyond his control. His mind raged at the injustice of his life. How could he be so damned? How could he have been such a fool, striving to live through so many obstacles only to be the tool used to carry out Roh Se Kahn’s plans of genocide?

He wept until there were no more tears left in him. Eventually, his thoughts emptied and his mind went blank, eyes staring into nothingness. When the door opened, he didn’t have the energy to move or even blink.

Quinn appeared in front of him and sat down. His face was grim, though Dhani couldn’t muster the curiosity to figure out why. Quinn then poured liquid onto a cotton swab and daubed it over the knuckles on one of Dhani’s hands. It stung, but the pain was distant. Through his peripheral vision, he watched as Quinn wrapped his hand in gauze then moved to sit beside him.

He didn’t resist when his head was pulled down to rest on Quinn’s shoulder. His body felt numb, like the shell it had been in the alternate realm. Faraway words sounded in his ears, murmured softly in gentle voices. He didn’t recognize any of them, but they didn’t matter. His eyes closed as the heavy weight of exhaustion bore down on him and he surrendered willingly to it.

A single thought entered his mind just before sleep overcame him. A simple thought. A prayer for death.