Then as if in slow motion, he turned his head, pinning Torren with big, round eyes the color of melted milk chocolate. “You’re being very rude,” he chastised. His voice was quiet, soft, almost musical, and Torren found himself unable to answer for a second.
“I apologize. Did I frighten you?” He didn’t want Aslan to be afraid of him. In just the two minutes since the man had entered the room, Torren already felt an overwhelming need to protect him and keep him safe.
“A little,” Aslan admitted but shrugged. “I was mostly worried about Galen. You’re my mate, right? I’ve seen you before, but you were more glowy and see-through. I like you better this way.” He tilted his head to the side and grinned innocently.
“Thank you?” Torren wasn’t sure, but he thought he’d been complimented.
“Oh, you’re very welcome. If we’re mates, why haven’t you come to see me? Don’t you like me?”
What a strange question. The underlying hurt in Aslan’s cheery voice was unacceptable, however. He should never feel sad or unwanted. “I’m afraid I don’t know you at all. I’d like to change that, though.” Torren would like to get to know him on several flat surfaces, but he figured he should probably keep that little thought to himself for the time being.
“Okay.” Aslan bobbed his head, stood to his feet on the mattress, and jumped at Torren. Shocked at the man’s behavior, Torren reacted on instinct, catching his mate and holding him protectively to his chest. “Let’s go to my room,” Aslan suggested.
Completely entranced by the little imp, Torren just nodded dazedly and followed his mate’s directions as he walked them across the hall and into Aslan’s room. He wasn’t sure how they made it there safely because he couldn’t take his eyes off of those perfectly shaped, pale lips.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” Aslan warned before jerking him forward and crushing their mouths together.
Torren had never met anyone as bold and forward as Aslan. It was refreshing, if a bit disconcerting. When he parted his lips to allow Aslan entrance and their tongues brushed together for the first time, Torren forgot to think about anything but devouring the man in his arms.
Kissing Aslan should have been an Olympic sport. The guy was everywhere and everywhere in hurry. His hands moved frantically over Torren’s shoulders and chest, and his hips thrust in jerky movements. He sucked on Torren’s tongue, bit his bottom lip, and growled fiercely when Torren didn’t respond with equal exuberance.
“Why won’t you kiss me back?” he demanded breathlessly a moment later.
“I’m trying,” Torren growled back. How was he supposed to kiss the man properly when he wouldn’t be still?
“Am I doing it wrong?” Aslan whispered, ducking his head and peeking up at Torren through his long, dark lashes.
Sitting on the side of his mate’s bed with Aslan in his lap, Torren cupped his face in both hands and smiled softly. The smaller man had no idea what he was doing, and was trying to make up for it with enthusiasm. Now that Torren understood, it was easier to steer them where they needed to go.
“Slow,” he said quietly, dipping his head forward and brushing his lips gently across Aslan’s. “It’s not a race.” He pressed their lips together again, a little more insistently this time. “Can you feel the difference?”
A sweet moan escaped through Aslan’s swollen lips, and his eyes drifted closed as he relaxed into Torren’s hold, allowing him to control the kiss. With more tenderness and care than he’d ever shown any of his previous lovers, Torren palmed the back of the man’s head and swept his tongue inside the warm depths of Aslan’s mouth.
He kept his movements easy, languid, and undemanding. It didn’t take long for Aslan to catch on, and soon their tongues were moving together in a slippery, sensual glide. Torren’s dick swelled inside his jeans, straining at his zipper, but he ignored it. This wasn’t about sex, not yet anyway. They’d have plenty of time for that later.
Unfortunately, it was going to have to be much later, because he had a job to do and missing people to find. There was also the issue of his children to discuss—though, he’d still not met them. He’d only just met Aslan, and already there were so many things that stood between them.
“I need to talk to Bannon.” He pecked at Aslan’s lips in apology.
Aslan shrugged and popped up from his lap like a jack-in-the-box.
“Okay. I’ll wait here.”
“Umm, yes.” Every time Aslan opened his mouth, Torren just grew more confused. He hoped it wasn’t going to be a recurring theme in their relationship. “I’ll be back.” He just didn’t qualify his return with a time frame. Shitty of him, but despite what everyone thought, he really didn’t have all the answers.
* * * *
Torren had said he’d be back. He’d even called him
caro
before he’d left the estate that night
.
Aslan hadn’t known what that meant, but when he looked it up on the computer in the library, he found out that it was Italian for “dear.” So, that meant it was an endearment.
Torren had said he’d be back and called him by an endearment.
He never came back, though. It had been almost a week, and he never came back. He didn’t even call. Hell, Aslan would have been happy to see him as that ghost thing he did. The only possible conclusion he could come to was that Torren didn’t want him.
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.
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.