Page 88 of Only You, No One Else

They didn’t as much walk as they floated through the light, the wolf leading them to an unknown destination. Relief tore all his strength from his body the moment he saw Mark. He lay on the invisible floor, unmoving. Caster forced his body to move faster even as he recognized the futility of his action. They were in Mark’s mind, at the mercy of it, and they would only move if he willed it.

The relief flooding his soul became pride when Mark raised his head as if it weighed a ton and looked at him with a small smile. The wolf moved to stand next to Mark’s human form, let out a drawn-out howl, and disappeared in the light.

“Caster?”

Tears battled with his joy as the whisper floated through his mind. Again he willed his body to move, and Mark met him halfway, drawing him within touching distance. A sudden injection of Riley’s power and an even brighter flash filled the brightness surrounding them.

He shut his eyes against the assault, and when next he opened them, they were on their bed, Mark in his arms, breathing hard. He summoned his senses, reaching for that steady beat and found it faster than he had in the last six days.

Caster was aware of others in the room with them, and thanked Riley for ushering them all out. The sound of the door closing behind them would not win over his desire to hold on to the steady rhythm of Mark’s heartbeat. He gathered him tighter in his arms, burying his face in his hair, gratitude to the Goddess for bringing him back, overwhelming him.

CHAPTER 61

Mark was sore, a consequence of the witch’s attack, an attack he pushed out of his mind as he held on to the love of his life. When Pierce had left him in that light, he’d been certain that he would never see Caster again. Tears blurred his vision as he tried and failed to reconcile with his joy.

“I am right here, my love.” Caster’s whisper was somewhere in his hair, his tightening hold a reiteration of his presence.

Until he’d seen his face in that bright place, he’d been certain that the witch had won again.

“She’s dead, baby.”

It was the last thing he wanted to do, but Mark pushed out of the tight embrace, needing to be certain of those words, needing certainty that any of this was real. Perhaps it was that place, or the Underworld tricking him into false security.

But when he opened his eyes, the familiar gray eyes he loved warmed his soul. Had he said the witch was dead?

Caster nodded, his touch on Mark’s cheek a delicate caress as if he too sought to reassure himself this was real. The word “how” formed on his tongue, followed by “when,” but they both disappeared into the need to feel more of Caster. Their lips met in a delicate, tentative kiss that stole his breath, more tears, both of pain and relief, gathering behind his eyes. This had to be real. He couldn’t survive another illusion.

Caster’s hand flowed through his hair. The kiss remained just a simple press of their lips, and he moaned. He regretted that moan when Caster pulled away, his other hand gliding over his bare chest. “Pain?”

Mark shook his head, his sore hand reaching for Caster’s fingers, the effect of his caress a shudder through his body. “Please don’t stop.”

Caster looked at him for the longest moment of his life, his fingers still tracing his chest, hovering over his heart. He sighed and leaned forward, pressing his lips against Mark’s with enough tenderness to melt his heart. The first time their tongues found each other was the moment he accepted that this was real. He moaned, the soreness in his body replaced by the intense arousal slamming into him.

Caster was delicate in the way he guided him onto his back without breaking the kiss, in the way he didn’t press his full weight on top of him. Mark struggled to pull him closer, bring back the desperate quality of their lovemaking, but he was overcome by Caster’s tenderness.

In complete control of the situation, Caster slowed the kiss to a simple press of their lips, his sigh flowing through their connection to settle into Mark’s bones, further easing his soreness. His wolf recognized the safety of his soulmate’s arms, flooding his body with its healing elixir with such precision Mark moaned his relief. The aching soreness disappeared, replaced by bone-deep tiredness as Caster settled behind him, pulling him into his arms. But he didn’t want to go to sleep. He wanted Caster.

“I am not going anywhere, baby.” The whisper spoken into his ear and his wolf’s overzealous healing tore another sigh from his lips, but he battled his heavy eyes, afraid that he would wake up alone in that unknown place if he gave in to sleep.

Caster kissed his temple, his sigh heavier. The kisses moved to his neck, and he turned his head, meeting the next one with his lips. For a second, forceful, desperate Caster was present in the expert precision of his tongue as it demanded Mark’s surrender. He gave it all, grabbing hold of Caster’s arm as he allowed himself to drown in the pleasure. But a frustrated moan tore from his lips when dominant Caster retreated into gentle tenderness.

Does this feel real? Caster’s voice in his mind, the intimacy of having him everywhere at once drew another sigh from him.

Good. Do you feel your wolf?

He pulled away from the gentle kiss, his breath shallow, but his voice failed to cooperate; a small nod the only action he could manage.

Caster leaned closer, their foreheads touching. “The witch is dead, you are here in my arms, and this is real. Nothing else matters.”

The slight bit of tension that he’d still been holding on to fled with the latest bit of overzealous healing from his wolf. He had so many questions, but everything he wanted, everything he’d thought he would never have again, was contained in this moment. He snuggled into Caster’s arms, holding on to him tighter and allowed his body the rest it needed. In the second before sleep overtook his mind, he caught his wolf’s amber gaze and the animal howled its reassurance.

***

The steady beat of Mark’s heart and the relief it brought would not let Caster follow him into the comfort of sleep. Instead, he held on to his slack body, maintaining his vigil. The fear that this was not real, even as he’d reassured Mark that it was, remained at the forefront of his mind. He buried his face in Mark’s hair and reached for further evidence of the realness of the moment.

His senses found the dependable thump of Kyle’s heartbeat first, right outside his door. The subtle sounds of distant conversations floated through next, and the sounds of night outside the confines of the house filled his mind. He lingered in the heights of that evidence only for a moment before he reached for the beat of Mark’s heart again. Comparing its steady, alive, strong rhythm to what it had been before threatened to further break his heart, so he closed his eyes and focused on the present. This had to be real. He didn’t think the Goddess cruel enough to give him the illusion of a love he couldn’t live without.

Movement startled him awake. He must have drifted off to sleep. The hand on his face was gentle, and so was the smile greeting him when he opened his eyes.