My Forever (9 page)

“I’m not mad at you. I’ll explain everything, I promise, but right now I think you should get some sleep.” When Kyle shook his head, he asked, “Do you trust me?” Breath caught in his throat as Kyle looked up at him with a baffled expression. What had passed between them was strong and profound, but it didn’t guarantee trust or even love. And as scary as it was, the possibility that the beautiful man in his arms might reject him for it was more than he could bear.

“Yes,” he whispered.

The truth he could feel in that answer humbled him. With great care, he tucked Kyle closer and stood, walking back to the bedroom. Laying him gently on the bed, he picked up the discarded tube of Bacitracin and straightened the covers over the lower half of Kyle’s body.

“Go to sleep, sweetness. I’ll be here when you wake up.” By the time he was done applying the cream to the rest of the wounds, Kyle was snoring softly.

Sleep eluded him, however, that night. For hours he stared down at the slim figure beside him, unable to believe what had just transpired. Plans of disappearing again flitted through his mind. It would be so easy this time. He wouldn’t have to outrun and outsmart those of his kind, he would merely have to pack up and erase his identity. Hide from a simple human who lacked the skills to track him down. He could leave Kyle with enough money to keep him from want for the rest of his life.

Which could last centuries now that he contained a piece of Lucas’ soul.

And what of the threat Craig posed? The part of Lucas that Kyle had taken into himself would not grant the man the physical attributes inherent in Lucas’ race, such as strength and speed far beyond the capabilities of any human.

Even if that were the case, Kyle’s nature was submissive. By his own words, he’d admitted that he loved to please, and as bad as Craig had been, Lucas knew there were other, more sadistic dominants in the world that would jump at the chance to take advantage of one so naïve and appealing.

On the other hand, staying in Kyle’s life would mean introducing him to risks deadlier than Kyle could imagine. Lucas’ past would always haunt him, and he had no right to force another to live with his regrets.

As the morning sun crested the eastern hill and cast its rays through the window pane in the far wall, Lucas watched the soft glow light up the delicate features of Kyle’s face. This man had chosen him. The realisation was daunting and exhilarating at the same time. It was a poor choice and made in ignorance, but he was fully aware of the requirements for a true bonding, for all he had tried to avoid it.

This sexy, kind, giving little wisp of a man had sacrificed a piece of his soul, capturing a part of Lucas’ in return. Was he seriously thinking of spurning what could be the best thing that had ever happened to him?

And to think he prided himself on his intellect.
 

A wide grin split his face and he bit his cheek to keep from laughing aloud. Kyle was his. Accepting that fact was like finding solid ground in a whirlwind of doubt. Now all he had to do was convince Kyle of this.

Propelled by his new-found resolution, he placed a feather-light kiss on his lover’s forehead then dressed to make breakfast. Pancakes. He recalled Kyle showing an interest in them. Whipping up the batter in a bowl, he poured a few handfuls of blueberries in then set about making several stacks. The first batch came out burnt, his cooking skills more rusty than he’d thought, but by the time he was done, a golden mountain of pancakes overflowed the plate on the counter.

A shuffling noise behind him drew his attention and he turned to see Kyle standing nervously in the doorway. “Shit, I was hoping to be there when you woke up.” Lucas put down the spatula and went to pull him into a careful hug. “How are you feeling?”

“Weird. And you feel…happy. How do I know that?”

“Let’s talk after we eat.” He tugged Kyle towards the chair with a pillow on it and sat him down. “I know these aren’t as great as you would have made them. It’s been a while since I cooked something that took more than five minutes in the microwave to prepare.”

Kyle flashed him a small smile while he piled enough pancakes to feed three onto a separate plate. His own method of encouraging the man to eat as much as possible.

After several minutes, Kyle looked up and gave a strained giggle. “Okay, you’re freaking me out. Did I grow horns or something?”

“What?”

Kyle slanted his gaze to the loaded fork forgotten in Lucas’ raised hand. “You’ve been staring at me since I came in. It’s about what we did last night, isn’t it?”

Lucas sighed. He’d taken so long to come to terms with their situation that he had yet to formulate the right words to break the news to him. “In a way, it does. Finish eating, though. This conversation could take a while.”

Kyle shovelled one more bite into his mouth, then muffled out, “I’m done.”

Lucas narrowed his eyes at the little imp but held his tongue. He couldn’t blame Kyle for his impatience any more than he could keep stalling the inevitable. He packed the leftovers into a container and gathered his thoughts as best he could while Kyle cleared the dishes from the table.

Once they’d moved to the living room, he gestured for the man to sit on the couch while he paced the floor in front of it.

Subtlety had never been one of his strong points so he decided to go for blunt honesty.

“I am Tsielen. A race that came to your planet several hundred years ago. I won’t go into all of the gory details of why several of us chose to move here, but suffice it to say, we’ve built a fairly strong establishment. My kind is very different from yours, but for the most part we’ve managed to coexist peacefully. That’s largely due to the fact that we keep our existence hidden from humans, though there are some who know of us. We possess abilities superior to your race and some that are…different.” He stopped to look at Kyle, trying to gauge his feelings, but there was nothing.

Kyle continued to stare at him with a blank expression, which Lucas found increasingly unnerving with each second that passed.

“Show me,” he said finally.

“Show you what?”

“One of your abilities.”

Lucas frowned, not sure what to make of Kyle’s reserved attitude. Using his power was out of the question, which left him with the options of displaying his speed or strength. Glancing around, he plucked a cast iron poker from its holder and grasped both ends. Applying a small amount of force, he broke it in half with a loud snap, holding the two halves up for Kyle’s inspection.

The man’s jaw dropped in shock. Rising from the couch, he kept his eyes fixated on the rod and hesitantly touched one jagged tip with a finger. “Does this have to do with why I can hear you in my head?”

“Yes and no.”

Kyle scowled up at him. “What kind of an answer is that?”

Chuckling, he replied, “Patience, sweetness. Maybe you should sit back down.” Tossing aside the ruined poker, he guided Kyle to the couch and took a seat next to him. “Do you remember making love last night?”

Kyle’s face flamed bright red and he ducked his head. “Yeah.”

Damn, the man was cute when he blushed. “You…
we
…bonded. We exchanged parts of our souls and, in doing so, created a connection that cannot be undone.”

“Because we had sex?”

“Made love,” Lucas corrected. “And it takes more than that act for my kind to bond. You gave yourself to me completely…and I guess I did the same. Without any reservations, pieces of our souls were transferred and infused. You can now feel my emotions and hear my thoughts when I broadcast them, just as I can yours.”

The young man shook his head. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you became my soul mate.” It felt so right to acknowledge it. Kyle belonged to him now, no matter what the consequences.

The man laughed with a touch of hysteria then sobered just as quickly. “Wait. This is why you were mad last night, isn’t it? Because we supposedly bonded?”

Lucas nodded slowly, unable to keep it a secret. Kyle was as strongly attuned to his emotions as he was to those of his mate.

“So this is my fault. I somehow tied you to me when you never really wanted me in the first place.”

“Kyle, that’s not what I’m saying. It takes two to create a soul bond…”

Kyle shook his head furiously, refusing to listen to anything else. “I won’t be your addiction,” he said softly. “I c-can’t. Not again.” Kyle leapt from the couch and ran to the front door. Lucas used his enhanced speed to cut him off, unabashed at exposing his preternatural abilities in front of the man now that they were mated. With a startled cry, Kyle skidded to a halt then spun around, tripping over the foyer table in his haste.

Lucas snatched him up, preventing his fall, and held him tight as Kyle struggled in his hold. Feelings of fury and terror ripped through him with such ferocity that it took all he had to keep his own emotions from reverberating. Despite the severity of his mate’s panic, he became aware of dampness on the front of his shirt and cursed. Kyle was tearing himself apart in his effort to escape.

Suddenly, his mate went limp in his arms and desolation replaced resistance. Lucas nearly drowned in the sorrow that radiated from the little man. It was as though all of the pain and degradation Kyle had been forced to endure in his life had come to be too much, stripping him of his strength and spirit.

“Kyle, sweetness, please stop this. I need you to talk to me.” When there was no response, he picked him up and took him back to the couch. They still had a lot to discuss, but Kyle’s safety came first. “You tore open some of the cuts on your back. Will you stay here while I get a cloth and medicine?” Again there was no reply. He would have to trust the emotions he felt from his mate to warn him if Kyle tried to take off a second time.

Planting a chaste kiss on his forehead, Lucas then went to the kitchen and created the same concoction he had upon Kyle’s arrival to help with the pain, only without the herb that would put him to sleep. The stitches needed to come out, but he suspected a few would have to be replaced. After gathering the supplies from the bathroom, he let out a breath of relief when he found Kyle sitting where he’d left him.

He placed the bowl of warm water and rubbing alcohol on the floor, then carefully peeled Kyle’s shirt off. Lucas helped him to drink the tea then asked him to lie down. Stitches on the deepest lacerations had torn through the skin but thankfully the wounds hadn’t reopened completely.

Lucas knelt down and washed the blood away in soft strokes then set tweezers and scissors into the rubbing alcohol to sterilise. Staring down at the quiet man, he never would have imagined Kyle capable of tolerating and hiding such turbulent emotions. On the outside, his face remained impassive, his body pliant, but inside a storm raged the likes of which not even Lucas, with his violent past, could compete with.

“Is that what you were to Craig? An addiction?”

A pang of misery flared but was quickly tamped down. Silence governed the room for so long that Lucas gave up hope for an answer. Which he could live with…for now. What really caused his own fear to intensify was the gradual lessening of Kyle’s emotions. The churning riot of distress dimmed with each passing minute until his mate seemed as detached on the inside as he was out.

“I won’t push you,”
he thought, trying to salvage a measure of the intimacy they had shared last night. “
I know this is a lot to take in, and my reaction only made it worse.”
Lucas took the tweezers and scissors from the bowl and laid a kiss on the edge of one laceration before removing the stitches from that area to give Kyle warning. “
The truth is, I’ve done a lot of things in my past that I’m not proud of.”
He kissed along a second slash and removed the stitches from there.

“I’ve led a very dangerous life, and for that reason I never wanted to fall in love.”
Another kiss and a few more stitches. “
But you changed that. I don’t think our perceptions of addiction are the same, but I have been addicted to you ever since I first saw you. Your determination, your spirit.”

Pausing to gather his thoughts, he took out the last of the stitches and threaded a needle to repair the damage done earlier. “
I don’t regret what happened. I would change it if I could, but there’s no turning back from this.”

Kyle twisted around to slant him a sceptical look. “Wow. You really suck at romance.”

Barely managing to keep his hand aligned with the thread he was about to tie off, Lucas gaped at the sarcasm in his mate’s tone. If not for the sliver of humour that sparked from Kyle and twined its way into Lucas’ heart, he would have been seriously offended. Maybe. The man did have a point. He knew nothing about love and relationships.

“Okay, so I have no skills, but at least I got a reaction out of you. Does this mean you’re talking to me again?”

His mate buried his face in his arms, the curtain of his hair hiding him from Lucas. Centuries of being a killer, of learning to control his emotions and dissociate himself from the demands of his job, could never have prepared him for this. Kyle needed space, which was the one thing Lucas should have been able to excel at, but now found next to impossible.

Everything in him wanted to reach out and reassure Kyle that this new development was a good thing—that they could both be happy if they accepted it. But how could he when his own doubts prevented him from doing that? By rescuing Kyle, he’d inadvertently put the man in more danger. He finished up the last stitch, rubbed the antibacterial cream over the opened wounds then set everything aside.