Forever One Page 3

  He stepped closer, loomed over her without saying a word. She doubted that he could find his voice, but the scathing look he gave her told her enough. She fought him then, pushing and shoving against his massive strength, but like an immobile tower, he refused to budge. She beat her fists against his chest and gasped at the pain. He felt as solid as granite. And his sharp-edged face never softened. Finally, he closed a great fist over her arm with a crushing grip then found his voice, if you called the rippling growl he gave a voice.

  “I can’t stop you, Cayla, but I warn you. You will witness something you’d rather not see.” Vadyn closed his mind to Elizabeth’s pain and struggled to explain to Cayla, knowing she would never understand. Even growing up on Kasara, she didn’t know how deeply he was tied to her mother. “When—she dies—I die.” His guttural words snarled from deep in his throat, and he hardly recognized them as his own. But that was the way he felt—just like an animal wounded by a fatal injury. Now, Cayla stared at him, wide-eyed. She could not possibly understand the relationship between her mother and him—linked, though of different species, they were mind-bonded until death. Elizabeth’s death meant his mind would be ripped apart with the separation. He would seek his body’s physical death rather than face the isolation the mind separation would bring. Added to his mind-link to Elizabeth, he was also heart-bonded to Logan because of her love for him. Both of their deaths assured the end of Vadyn’s life. And, he wanted it so. After twenty-five linked years, the empty loneliness without them would be too much to bear.

  Numbed by grief, he finally let Cayla brush past him. It was as useless to deny her as it had been her mother. He wished he could spare her, but since she insisted on having her own way, so be it. But he would make his death swift for her sake. He owed her that much.

  Without knowing how he got there ahead of Cayla, he knelt next to Elizabeth in the heated sands of the oasis. Grit dug into his bare knees. He no longer worried about the Slytreen or the traitorous Xeetag. They were nowhere to be seen. He could only fight the dim, rippling pain waves coming through the mind-link. The approaching blackness of Elizabeth’s death threatened his awareness. Dimly, he felt Cayla join him. On her knees at his side, she pressed her fingers against her father’s throat and stifled a sob before she hurriedly checked her mother. “They’re both still alive, Vadyn,” she whispered. “Can’t we do something?” Why did she feel the need to speak so softly? Was it because she felt death’s cold shadow breathing down on her neck? He certainly felt it. He also felt Elizabeth’s struggle to speak to them.

  “Is that you, Daughter?” Beth moaned and blinked her eyes open. “I knew you’d come with Vadyn. I waited for you. I’m sorry, so sorry, sweetie.” She had so many things she wanted to tell them, but Logan’s faint heartbeat fluttered under her hand. And, it grew weaker with each second that passed. His importance came first. He always had, even though he didn’t always think so. She raised her head, struggling to see his face once more. Her fingers brushed his cheek. “I love you, honey,” she whispered. “And I—”

  Logan’s eyelashes stirred, opening in response to her soft call. She ignored Cayla’s frantic cry of, “For the gods’ sake, do something!” in the background. Beth knew that there was nothing anyone could do; even the great el’kota of Kasara couldn’t help. Vadyn was in as sad a shape as they were. Logan’s lips moved. She strained to hear his whisper.

  “I love you, too, Bethie. For always—the other—didn’t matter.” His words barely moved his mouth, but she heard them. Her vision clouded. Ah, so Logan forgave her for the linking to Vadyn—all these years, she had felt so guilty. Tears flowed unheeded down her face. At her side, Vadyn moaned as Logan gasped, then gave a faint shudder before relaxing into stillness. One wrenching sob escaped her. Without being told, she knew her husband was gone from her. She tightened her fists, focused her fading attention back on the couple kneeling on either side of her—her daughter and her Kasar warrior. Vadyn reeled drunkenly. He was tied to her agony; she couldn’t help him without Cayla’s help. And Cayla—beautifully spoiled, innocent but wild at twenty-two—her daughter, who loved the warlord as much as she did. This had to work. She had known for a long time that the affection Cayla felt for Vadyn had changed into the mature longing of an adult for her mate. Even though she was still young and inexperienced, Cayla’s affection had to be more than just a juvenile crush. And Beth knew of Vadyn’s desire for Cayla even though he tried to hide it. She had always worried about the warlord’s longevity, had worried about what would happen to him when she died. Before this, she couldn’t think of a way to unite the two and guarantee him continued life, but now—with her death—was it possible?

  It had to work; she had to try. Vadyn might die otherwise. She removed Cayla’s trembling fingers from her arm and placed them on his solid forearm. She increased the pressure of her hand, pressing Cayla’s palm tighter against him. “Keep him, Daughter. Do whatever you must—you must fight to save him.” Ah, God, breathing was becoming harder. Her chest tightened. Black hemmed her sight. Please, Lord, just a little more time. She blinked her vision clear.

  Cayla’s familiar blue gaze, so like her father’s, shimmered at Beth as tears spilled down her soft cheeks. “Wha—what, Mother? What do you mean?” Her image swam in Beth’s vision, and she swallowed past the dryness in her throat. Hurry. She could feel the threads of awareness unraveling even now. She must answer her daughter, make her wishes clearly known.

  “Save Vadyn from himself, Cayla. I know you can do it—if you love him enough—just—” She couldn’t speak anymore, though she tried. The words formed in her head, she knew them, could even see them, but she lacked the strength needed to speak them through her lips. With her last ounce of effort, Beth let go of Cayla and gripped Logan in one last hug. Then on a soft sigh, she let the tangled threads of light fly loose. It was so easy to do—to die.

  “Nooo!” Vadyn roared into the numbing silence. He fell forward and slumped over the bodies. Wait for me! His aching call echoed in the fleeting mind connection.

  Stay . . . my warrior . . . stay. The thin link faded to black then snapped out of existence. The blank rebound jerked him back into madness.

  Gone! He was alone! There was nothing but cold blankness. After so many years joined to another’s shared thoughts and desires, he felt so empty. Futile rage filled the isolation threatening him. Lost! All was lost. He snarled to the skies impotently. After Mirrah’s death on Earth, he had despaired alone, sick until Elizabeth had saved him. But now, he was beyond saving. More than anything he wanted to die with them. How he longed for death—for release. His pistol felt unbelievably light in his palm.

  Long shudders ran down his arched back. On his knees, he opened his arms to the blazing heavens. He tilted his head back. His heavy muscles relaxed. He closed his eyes, waiting for his mind’s darkness to overwhelm his resistance. He would take a coward’s way out in defiance of warrior law. Yes, when the darkness became enough, he would pull his laser’s trigger.

  Sudden pain exploded in his jaw. His head snapped. His laser was ripped from his grip. What? Another sharp jab to his chin then another rocked his head to the side. Vaguely, he thought he heard a voice—a familiar voice—crying—screaming at him. Blows, flimsy weak blows, thudded on his chest. More cries. Finally, he made out the words through the haze of his grief.

  “Listen to me, you big dumb Kasar! You’re not leaving me, too. Do you hear me, warlord?” Cayla shook Vadyn, while throat-wrenching sobs spilled from her. His heavy weight pulled at her arms. She raged incoherent threats at him and smashed her clenched fist against the warlord’s solid jaw yet another time. The skin over her joints split from the force of her heavy blows. He had to listen to her. He just had to! She socked his hard jaw again. Never had she been this angry. How dare he even think of leaving her!

  “Do you hear me, el’kota? Damn it, I need you. Don’t you dare leave me too. I can’t stand it. P
lease—just—don’t.” Her voice broke, her rage ebbing, but she continued to plead, “Vadyn, I—I love you. I need you. Help me. Stay with me. I have no one—no one now. Please—just please—” Her voice faded. Her strength spent, she stopped. Her shoulders drooped, and she bowed her head, still murmuring soft prayers. Only stillness answered. Not even the chattering of the ever-present hicas, the desert beetles, broke the silence. In the quiet, she felt her own heart beating a surging pulse in her ears, thudding in her chest. She was alone. She had lost them all. Gone. The finality hit her with a sick punch. Never to hear her father’s deep voice again—never to smell her mother’s sweet scent once more. A sob broke her control, and she fisted her hands. This was so unfair! Helpless, she screamed aloud, shrieked, and shook her clenched fists at the skies. How dare the gods let this happen! But the fight went out of her at her very next thought. Vadyn—never to know his love—how cruel—how dreadfully unfair of life. For years, dreams of being his mate had filled her nights and haunted her days. Now, overwhelming tears fell; tremors shook her over and over. It had all been a dream, a fanciful juvenile fantasy that had eclipsed into an awful nightmare reality. She began praying softly aloud this time, confessing all the things she had wanted to say to them all. She hadn’t meant to blame her mother for so much, for so many things beyond her control. And she should have told Vadyn of her feelings.

  The sound of weeping and softly whispered love words pierced Vadyn’s thick fog. A lingering pain in his jaw brought the bright light of living recognition. He knew that feminine voice. It drew him back from the brink of madness. Cayla. Cayla needed him. She had lost her parents. But how could he help her? He had lost too much. Way too much. How could he help her when he couldn’t even help himself? His mind twisted in the dense, breath-stealing vacuum. He felt his thoughts echoing alone, stunted after so many years of shared existence. He longed to die. But Cayla’s aching sobs shook him to his very soul. How could he leave her? He couldn’t be that cruel. “Ca-Cayla?”

  Suddenly, her soft warmth covered him. She gripped his head to hers, her breath hot on his mouth. Gentle, warm lips pressed against the cold deadness of him. He tried to push her away, but his strangely weak muscles refused to obey. He fumbled against her touch, his mind unable to connect with his body, but her hands seemed to be everywhere he turned, soothing, caressing, healing, and refusing to let him leave. Her hot tears washed his face. They called him back from the void that he so longed to enter. She covered him with her entire length, lips to lips, chest to breast, and her pelvis resting at his waist—not quite where he wanted her to be. What?

  Contaminated by twenty-five years of shared human emotions, male arousal surged through him, and he responded to Cayla’s overtures. He hardened even further. On a growled protest, he took her mouth fiercely with his. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. Too many years linked to a human had changed him. A Kasar only felt this heated passion once during mating season, but for twenty-five years, he had not mated. But he had shared passion many times with Logan and Elizabeth through his mind-link. He had honestly thought to be physically celibate for the rest of his life. No Kasar female would have him, linked as he was to a mated human. But why feel this surge of life now in the mist of so much death and grief? Certainly so many years of shared human emotion couldn’t be denied. He responded, sweeping his lips across hers, his tongue stealing into her mouth, raking her teeth and dueling with her. She moaned, opened her mouth wider, and squirmed closer. Undoubtedly, she was innocent, untried, and unused to this, but he couldn’t help his response. With arms that lacked his former strength, he hugged her tightly to him, curved her frame against his heat. She snuggled closer in his embrace, kissed the corner of his mouth in her virginal innocence, allowing and responding to his touch. And, her soft words snared him as effectively as any predator’s trap.

  “Vadyn, I need you so much. Help me, stay with me,” she whispered. Her warm breath brushed against his neck, and he trembled violently. She ran her palms through his hair, gripped behind his head, and drew him down toward her. “Stay with me.” She pressed her chin against his cheek. Her hands remained fisted in his hair, and her grip tightened painfully. He didn’t care. Held captive in her grasp, she covered his mouth in a demanding kiss that left him breathless but warmed the cold deadness that had filled him. He felt her grief mingling with his own.

  The violent sobs that racked her also shook him. Her firm, high breasts were pressed against his naked chest so closely that he felt her heart’s frantic beating through her thin silks. The salty taste of her tears lingered from her mouth. Her questing lips drew his hunger. Vibrations of long-denied passion echoed throughout his system, and he came alive to her heat. He lifted his hands, heavy hands that dragged against unseen forces, to clasp her head steady. For several long moments, he silently gazed into her shimmering eyes. The blue of them was so like Logan’s eyes, but he knew it was Cayla when he melded his mind to hers. Her love pulled him under . . . drowning him . . . completing him. This time the mind merging was fulfilled for him; Cayla was not mated to another. Her thoughts were his; she could be completely his. Mind, body, and soul joined forever in a love beyond death. So much had been withheld from his bonding with Elizabeth, but not so now. With Cayla, the melding could be complete. Though they were Kasar and human, the differences didn’t matter. All that mattered was Cayla. She needed him, he needed her, and they wanted each other.

  Their minds tangled, blended. Barriers dropped. Their bodies found each other. Hard muscles and suede fur flowed against soft skin. The glorious building of desire increased with the slide of body to body. Mind paths connected. Memories shared. In the aftermath of death, they came alive. He extended his talons and tore through the silken barrier of Cayla’s robes with ease. Such flimsy obstructions couldn’t keep him away from her. He craved more of the slide of her smooth skin against his. He needed to ease the grief that beat at him with such savage blows. He needed the ease complete joining offered: grief shared was a burden lightened.

  In a vivid rush, Cayla exposed all of herself—her body, her thoughts, even her private memories—to Vadyn. She gave up all willingly. Body. Mind. Soul. For years, she had ached for the consummation of her love. He laughed in joy as she hurried to gain what had been so long denied to her. He slowed her hasty, virginal caresses with one hand while using the claws of the other in a gentle slide against her skin. She shivered. He delighted and circled the nipple of her right breast with the curved tip of a talon. She was so delightfully responsive. A low moan escaped her mouth. Fear and longing. Drawing moisture pooled in her pelvis. He felt every sensation.

  Vadyn’s thoughts and comforting heat built in Cayla’s mind, but his body was a contradiction, soft velvet fur encasing marbled muscles. Needing more, she arched against him, still fearing he would change his mind. After all, he had been linked to her mother for years.

  A shudder passed through him. He raised his head from her breast, and she felt the air cooling the warm moisture left from his mouth. He stared at her with his anguished gaze. Then, on an exhaled breath, he exposed all his stored private memories of her mother and father. They flowed in a violent flood of emotional pictures. A hot flush swept over her as she discovered what he knew, what he had shared with her parents. Stars! How little she had actually known them. How odd to share this intimacy! Vadyn’s memories of her parents’ love, their lives, even their lovemaking scenes, left her breathless and slightly weak. She never suspected this side of them—of her mother—her father. What child would? Oh, such passion they had shared, such life, such love! The memories swept her along, and she wept sudden bittersweet tears. Gods, she had never really known her parents at all. But Vadyn? He had experienced everything with them. Everything! No wonder he felt such loss. Hers was so pathetic when compared to his. But in sudden insight, she felt more sadness knowing that the warlord, even with the mind sharing, had always been on the outside. Suddenly, she realized tha
t she could save him from some of the grief that flowed from him. Give him a little of what he longed for. She knew she could give him happiness—if he let her. Her own loss, she would deal with later. Blindly, she reached for him, sweeping her arms around him.

  Vadyn felt Cayla’s overwhelming need, her opening to him, and he willingly exposed all his secrets. His deep, unfulfilled love for Elizabeth, his hidden feelings—hidden out of love and respect for Logan. Now, after so many years, he let Cayla see his longings for a mate, his unspoken desire for her—for her—Cayla—not her mother. All this time, she thought he knew her only as the child he had helped to raise. But that was a lie. He loved her—Cayla for herself. Among his revelations, he even exposed his doubts, his insecurities that he experienced as ruler of Kasara. He felt more of a failure now. He had let an enemy kill his best friends. For that, those enemies would soon die. The savage violence of his thoughts staggered her for a moment, but, knowing her distress, he quickly swept her back into passion. He filled her heart again with his demands. Then he taunted her. Was she brave enough? Would she take what she had only dreamed of?

  Cayla responded to his challenge, her mind swimming through his memories as a bright spark of life. She loved him. Not as the doting foster uncle but as a mate. She desired him, Vadyn, the Kasar warlord. His self-seen failings and shortcomings as the el’kota, warlord leader of Kasara, didn’t matter to her. The differences of their physical race didn’t matter either. She loved him. Desired him.

  Astonishment left him paralyzed for several moments while Cayla flashed through his mind. Her essence, so powerful, so swift, cut like a two-edged sword. And her demanding touch was so unlike her mother’s gentle, platonic healing one. Cayla’s vibrance rang of heated passion and claimed the same from him. Without another thought, he gave it. Desire flared and made them numb to the tragedy that had happened so close.