Page 24 of Keeper of All

“Holy shit… are you okay?” Mao’s husky voice penetrated through the residual magic buzzing around him.

Ekon sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly to allow his pulse to return to normal as the effects of the magic left him riding the orgasmic high. He blinked repeatedly, his brain not computing how they’d missed the devastation in the bunker. If he didn’t know better, he’d have said the place had been hit by a hurricane when he stood in the middle of all the destruction. Fuck, did I hurt my mate?

His eyes flew to Mao in panic.

No… no, you didn’t. But you seem to have unlocked our mating connection.

Sorry—

Don’t be. It is all part of what’s special about us.

Gentle hands cupped his stubbly jaw and took away the sting of the snap in Mao’s response. Fingers rubbed at the wetness gracing his cheeks as Mao’s dark eyes held concern. “Looks like you found where the fae was living from the smell coming from the room. Wanna go and see?”

He hesitated, unsure why until this other part of him whispered in his mind, you’ll find what you seek. “Did you hear that?”

“Yep, felt it too, like an electric current running from you to me.”

Ekon nodded warily. “Something like that. What’s inside me feels stronger, like it’s taking energy from something… not just me? Fuck, I’m not making sense, am I?” he muttered, stepping around Mao, forcing him to let go to head to the room suddenly impatient with himself.

“Not fully, but then it’s not every day you discover you hold a dynamite load of magic inside you.”

Mao’s chuckle was warm and held affection, and Ekon basked in it, tension ebbing from his shoulders as he stepped over piles of paper and broken shelves looking more like twigs.

Did I really do all this damage?

Yep.

Ekon stopped at the gap in the wall and looked back at Mao, checking once more to reassure himself Mao was unharmed. That’s something, I suppose!

More chuckles said that Mao had caught his thoughts, and Ekon’s lips twitched. This type of connection certainly had its benefits.

It most certainly does. Mao winked and slipped a supportive arm around Ekon’s waist as he glanced into what appeared to be a large, furnished cavern of sorts. The major focus was a huge, sumptuous bed covered in fur. A blue velvet couch sat opposite the bed with two oak tables, one at each end. Both held open books. Countless shelves that looked handmade, housed thousands of books covering most of the wall space. None of them disturbed like in the bunker.

“The magic didn’t touch anything in here.” Ekon lifted his arm and focused his magic much like he would an animal to seek what he was looking for. The place held small wall torches that flickered and flared as the magic inside him met that of the room’s previous occupant. The same, yet different.

The power was intoxicating; it came with the urge to strip and get on that bed and…

And?

Ekon’s skin heated with embarrassment at where his thoughts had headed, when he couldn’t say for sure if the arousal pulsing in his pants was because of his mate or the magic. He kept that to himself—he hoped.

“The magic in here is strong and feels decadent,” Mao stated, like it wasn’t an issue, as if reassuring him.

Ekon cast a relieved look at Mao who stalked to the nearest shelves, his long, lean fingers taping on the spines of the books, his gaze intent. “Not more files?”

Mao shook his head, the dark waves glowed in the flickering lights revealing highlights of auburn. “These aren’t files…” he murmured distractedly appearing to read as he opened a book, getting Ekon to walk closer. “They’re journals.” He flicked several pages, and there was a delicate script filling the pages.

“What was he journaling?” Ekon asked at the clutch in his belly feeling a disquiet coming from Mao.

Mao glanced in his direction the concern back clouding his beautiful eyes. “You tell me.”

He held up the journal and Ekon scanned the language his brain interpreting for him. “The comings and goings of those who brought the files. Fuck,” Ekon scowled as he glanced at the many full shelves. “It could take years to read through these! Why can’t I just click my damn fingers”—he snapped his fingers together with a decisive click—“and what I need that relates to me pops off the shelf and into my hand!” he demanded angrily. Because, really, fuck my life.

Mao’s eyes widened with alarm that hit Ekon in the solar plexus, at something behind him. Ekon’s animals all surged to protect as he swung around claws out ready to strike down the threat.

He blinked rapidly, his breath coming in short pants. There was no one there. No, that wasn’t quite right. There wasn’t someone, there was something—a book floating in the air as if held by invisible silk. “Fuck… did I do that?” If he had, then he had no damn clue how.

“I believe you might have.” Mao didn’t move his eyes off the book, staying right where he was, a tension radiating off him.