AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Close your eyes, Kyson,” Justice says.
“What is this about?” Yves asks.
“Oh, just wait,” Syn answers. “It’s very Thorn.”
“Well then, it could be anything,” Yves says dryly, but I can sense his affection for his brother.
Seconds later, metal doors open near the back of the foyer and Thorn appears with two men behind him. The men, vampires, each carry massive wood coffins. Yves’s jaw drops.
“Right here is good,” Thorn says, directing the men to stop in front of his lover.
The men set the coffins down and Thorn opens each, revealing stunning baby blue silk interiors and plush bedding. With a huge grin on his face, he clasps his hands together.
“Open your eyes, beautiful boy.”
Kyson blinks his eyes open, taking a second to focus before he notices the coffins. “Thorn! No. You… Wow.”
Thorn is beaming now as Kyson rushes forward, running a hand over the coffin lid.
“You got this for me?”
“For us. Just like you’ve always wanted.”
“Kyson wants to sleep in a coffin?” Justice muses.
“I don’t think we’ll be doing much sleeping in them,” Thorn answers, wiggling his eyebrows.
Kyson swings around and lunges into Thorn’s arms, attacking his face with kisses. “You listen to everything.”
“I’m your mate, darling. It’s my purpose in life to give you everything you want.”
Something twists in my chest as my eyes settle on Yves. He turns to me at the same time, both of us filled with longing for the same thing.
Thorn smiles, still holding his mate. “Sorry for the interruption, Yves.”
“It’s fine. They are beautifully crafted.”
Thorn nods. “A place in France makes them.”
“I kind of want one,” Tru muses.
Midnight actually smiles. “They are more beautiful than comfortable.”
“Let’s focus on our guest,” Syn says, ever the serious one, it seems. I can see what drew Yves to him.
Yves takes my hand, leading me back to the sitting room. Everyone gathers around us, and the amount of love and affection aimed at Yves is almost overwhelming. While my time away from him was nothing but darkness and pain, his time away from me was filled with love. I swear another wound of mine just healed.
“As I was saying, This is Damiano Honore,” Yves begins. “We met in the year thirteen fifty, when my maker, our maker, brought him home. He was Lorenzo then, and I was Cillian.”
“Father Cillian,” I add. “Though he had long abandoned his collar by that point.”
“No way,” Vivienne says. “You were a priest, Yves?”
Yves nods, chuckling. “Can you imagine it? Me, dedicated to the Church.”
“Did you really believe in it?” Thorn asks.
Yves twists his head back and forth. “I desperately wanted to. I begged the Christian god to wash away my desires. I enjoyed helping people, but it was a difficult existence.”
