Though the righteousness of the admission nearly drove him to his knees, Kael resisted the truth of it. He sighed, a sound full of defeat and resignation. “Like I said, it does not matter. She’s gone. And it is better for her that she is.”
“Do not be a fool, brother.”
“Watch your tongue, Liam.”
The warrior ran his hand through his brown hair, then grasped Kael’s shoulder. “Don’t assume you know what’s best for her. Bring her back. Let her choose.” Kael shook his head and dropped his gaze. “You must, Kael, you cannot continue this way.”
Kael shoved the hand away and stepped back. “I do not see you seeking out a mate. Or most of the others.”
Liam scoffed. “I have not found her. But I look. As for the others, you are their role model. They follow your lead.”
Kael’s gaze cut to Liam’s. “What?”
Liam heaved a breath. “It is time. Meara has been gone for three hundred years.” Outrage erupted in Kael’s gut, but Liam pushed on. “She would want you to be happy. She would want you to have comfort. You know damn right well she would kick your ass if she knew how you denied yourself.”
Kael braced his hands on his hips and hung his head. Well, that was true. Meara had been a fierce woman, full of life and laughter and aggressively loyal. And she’d believed in love. Kael would go as far as to say she’d taught him what love meant, why it should be valued.
“Jesus, Kael, if you’ve possibly found your mate, how can you even think of letting her go?”
Kael inhaled a shuddering breath and rubbed his lips with his hand. Fuck. I let her go. No. I sent her away.
And now she was out there, somewhere. Unprotected. Vulnerable. The Soul Eaters had found his clan’s stronghold once. Though that particular band of evil had been eradicated, nothing said it couldn’t happen again. Meara hadn’t been his fault, he knew that in his heart of hearts. But if trouble befell Shayla after he’d thrown her out, that would lie at his feet. And it would crush him.
Icy cold panic sloshed in his gut, seized his spine. “Shit, Liam. I was horrible to her.”
Liam stabbed him in the chest with his pointer finger. “Then make it right.”
Kael nodded, massaged his forehead. Wanting her wasn’t the question. Impossibly, he did, in every way and soul deep. But could he allow himself to be so vulnerable again? His heart panged and his hand dropped to his chest, applied counterpressure to ease the awful tightness there. Who was he kidding? Her loss already pained him. Resolve filled his gut and straightened his spine. “Get her,” he whispered, his tone urgent and strained.
A smile full of boyish mischief and fraternal affection transformed Liam’s face. “Right away, my lord, right away.”
Kael glared and Liam straightened his face as he sprinted from the room, but he moved with so much enthusiasm Kael couldn’t resist the buoyancy of good humor that inflated his chest.
It constricted just as quickly. He needed to know she was safe. He needed to look into that mystical gaze. Anxiety tossed his stomach as he anticipated seeing her again. He couldn’t imagine what she must think of him, how she must be feeling. Christ, she wasn’t even down from the high of her orgasm when he threw her out.
Kael braced himself. Every likelihood existed she wouldn’t want to return. And though that decision would level him, he wouldn’t blame her one bit.
If Shayla never saw a blindfold again, it would be too soon.
With her eyes covered to keep secret the rural location of the vampires’ compound, she reclined against the leather of the luxury sedan’s backseat. Having asked her trainer for some space, she rode alone. It was the middle of the night, just hours into the twentieth anniversary of her birth.
Happy freaking birthday to me.
She shifted and pulled her legs up under her on the seat. Unthinkingly, she rubbed her left hand, massaged her palm. At some point it had started aching, but she couldn’t remember hurting herself. The gentle hum of road noise was soothing, at least. Anything to distract her from her thoughts.
The previous evening, the trip from Belfast had taken a little over an hour, so she knew it wouldn’t be long until she was back at her hotel near the airport. She’d be returning to London tomorrow, and she could definitely get into the idea of losing an afternoon browsing the shelves of the Waterstone’s at Piccadilly Circus. Anything normal would be nice right about now.
The car slowed and veered to the left, and gravel crunched beneath the tires. Then they were still, only the soft purr of the idling engine filling her ears. The driver was separated from her by a privacy screen.