Page 4

Chapter four

R une’s entire life had been built on a foundation of rules and order.

He enjoyed schedules, routines, and patterns.

He preferred predictability over chaos.

More importantly, he liked being prepared for any eventuality.

As a member of Orrin’s Guard, those traits had served him well as the team’s strategist. He had been valued and praised for always having the answers, for devising backup plans for his backup plans.

None of that mattered when it came to Keegan Marsh.

This time, he didn’t have the answers.

He saw no obvious course of action.

Hell, he didn’t even know what would happen in the next heartbeat, let alone in the days, weeks, or years to come.

In that moment, he just knew that everything had changed.

It wasn’t logical. The emotions that warred inside him didn’t fit into a neat dataset or align with rational thought.

Instead, he rode a wave of pure instinct, everything he thought he knew about himself stripped away and rebuilt to place Keegan at the center of his new reality.

A reality that apparently included magic mirror portals.

It sounded like something out of a fairy tale, but his belief in Keegan was sincere.

Just because he hadn’t witnessed something with his own eyes didn’t negate its existence.

And just because he didn’t understand it didn’t mean it wasn’t possible.

An hour ago, he would have denied any desire to burn the world to the ground to protect a single person, especially one he’d just met.

In his mind, it would have been absurd, an impossibility.

He’d have been wrong.

Did it make sense for him to be standing guard outside the bathroom door while Keegan showered?

No. None at all.

Did the realization matter?

Also no.

Until he had eyes on his mate again, he had no plans of moving from his current position.

Since both dwellings had been constructed by Hades, the castle and the Tower operated in similar ways.

The main difference being that Orrin’s home had been a gift designed for luxury, while the units at the Tower served more practical purposes.

Still, both places existed to provide the occupants with what they needed, always changing and adjusting to the circumstances.

Keegan had asked to stay with him, but he hadn’t specified in what capacity.

As such, Rune hadn’t wanted to be presumptuous, so instead of his own bed, he’d offered him the room next to his.

The castle had compensated for his lack of confidence by creating a door between the adjoining spaces.

Nothing quite like being judged by a fucking pile of stones.

Eventually, Keegan emerged from the en suite, his skin pinkened from the hot water, and his damp hair a couple of shades darker.

Upon spotting Rune, he stumbled to a stop at the threshold, his eyes round with an odd mixture of confusion and relief.

“Hey. Thanks for the clothes.”

His voice was quiet, unsure, and he smiled shyly as he tugged at the hem of his long-sleeved thermal Henley.

Paired with black cotton pants, the white top complemented his skin tone, and the neckline emphasized his prominent collarbones.

Both pieces of clothing fit him well, and he looked stunning, but Rune couldn’t take credit.

Along with the adjoining door, the castle had taken it upon itself to make Keegan feel at home.

His new room boasted a queen-sized bed covered in thick blankets, plush area rugs spread across the marble floors, his own fireplace, and a basic wardrobe.

The sleep set had been waiting for them, folded neatly on the foot of the bed.

He didn’t know if the clothes and décor were black and white because Keegan liked the color scheme, or if it was more of a blank slate until the castle learned his preferences.

From what he had observed, the palette didn’t really fit his mate’s vibrancy, but then again, he was getting used to being proven wrong.

“Come on, I’ll show you the kitchen.”

On instinct, he held his hand out, his chest swelling with satisfaction when Keegan took it without hesitation.

Resting his other hand on Rune’s forearm, he leaned into his side, clinging to him like he worried one of them might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight.

It was sweet, a little sad, and completely unnecessary.

Still, Rune couldn’t deny that a part of him enjoyed it.

“Why do you live in a castle?” Keegan asked as they made their way down the corridor to the curved staircase.

“Hades built it for Orrin when he moved here.”

Keegan pursed his lips, and his brow wrinkled adorably.

“So, if Orrin didn’t always live here, does that mean he wasn’t always the Guardian of Lost Souls?”

“Correct. Before he mated Erus—”

“Who is very much not a three-headed dog.”

Rune chuckled, both in amusement and solidarity.

Yeah, that one had taken him a while to wrap his mind around as well.

“Right again. But before Erus, Orrin was a prince, heir to the—”

“Elven court!” Keegan’s head jerked up, his eyes shining and a bright smile curving his lips.

“I knew I recognized the name. I just couldn’t place it at first.”

After everything he’d been through, Rune wouldn’t have faulted him if he had forgotten his own name.

“So, are you one of his Guardians?”

“I am.”

Technically, he still held the title, even if his duties had changed and Orrin didn’t need his protection anymore.

He just didn’t know for how much longer.

“That means you’re a shifter, right?” Keegan’s cheeks flushed, and his hand tightened around Rune’s.

“Sorry if that’s rude.”

Some Otherlings took offense to the question, but he’d never seen the point.

Even with all the information available to him—scent, energy signatures, chemosignals—he couldn’t always discern what type of shifter someone was.

For a human, it would be virtually impossible to tell a shifter from a werewolf, or a faerie from a pixie.

“Yes and no. I’m a bear shifter, but my mother was a mage, which makes me a little…more.”

“Like being more powerful and harder to kill.” It wasn’t a question.

“We learned about Guardians in our Otherling Studies course back in high school.”

Rune frowned.

“They teach that in schools now?”

“Only in a few places. It’s mandatory in a handful of states, and it was an elective at my school.”

“And what did you learn in this course?”

“Not much.” Keegan shrugged.

“It was pretty lame actually.”

Rune chuckled.

Somehow, that didn’t surprise him.

Most Otherlings knew little about the history and culture of the different races within their own community.

They certainly didn’t know enough to teach it to humans.

“Can I ask you something?”

Rune nodded.

“You can ask me anything.”

“What did Orrin mean about losing Guardians to mates?”

The list of requirements for becoming a Guardian of the paranormal royal families was a short one.

Apart from passing the intense training, they had to be of a mixed lineage that included magic and the ability to shapeshift.

They didn’t have to be spellcasters.

They just needed to have inherited enough magic to make them bigger, stronger, faster, and possess the ability to heal in real time.

The only other condition was a lack of emotional ties that might interfere with their oath to always put their charges first. This even applied to family, including parents and siblings.

Mostly, however, the rule had been implemented to exclude mated Otherlings from becoming Guardians.

He had honestly never given the reason behind it much thought beyond what he’d been taught during training.

It had been an abstract concept, something that didn’t apply to him, and therefore, didn’t require more than a cursory understanding.

Now, however, he knew exactly why the decree existed.

To be a Guardian meant unwavering loyalty.

It meant always putting the families they protected first.

Rune couldn’t do that, not anymore.

He respected Orrin, loved him like a brother, but the prince was no longer his priority.

Instead of explaining all of that, however, he offered a more expedient—and humorous—answer.

“It’s kind of an inside joke that Orrin is something of a mate magnet. He’s had to replace so many Guardians because of it.” He shook his head and chuckled.

“There was one who met their mate five minutes after arriving at the palace.”

“No.”

“Yes.” The look on Orrin’s face had been priceless.

“Three of us followed him to the Underworld. Tyr met his mate a couple of months ago.”

“Oh, my god. You’re kidding.”

Fuck, he had the sweetest laugh, and he looked like an angel when he smiled.

The coming days wouldn’t be easy as they tried to unravel the mystery of what had happened to him and his brother.

Still, Rune made a silent vow to give him a reason to look that happy as often as he could.

When they arrived in the kitchen, they found Finn seated at the center island, his face illuminated by the glow of the tablet screen clutched between his hands.

“Anything?” Rune asked him.

“Not a damn thing.” Sighing, Finn turned off the device and pushed it across the granite countertop.

“No body. No one has even reported me missing.”

He winced in sympathy, but the information didn’t surprise him.

“As far as the mortal world is concerned, it’s been barely more than an hour since you died.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I just don’t like not knowing.”

“Fair enough.”

“Well, I understood exactly none of that,” Keegan interjected.

“Someone want to explain it to the new kid? Does this have something to do with the time stuff Orrin was talking about?”

“Sort of.” Orrin had been referring to an entirely different part of the Underworld that existed outside of both time and space.

But for the purpose of the current discussion, he wasn’t wrong.

“A day here is about a minute, give or take, topside.”

“Wait, so I’ve been here for about an hour. That means…” Keegan held his hands up and muttered under his breath as he bent his fingers one by one.

“Never mind. I suck at math.”

Rune snorted, unable to hide his amusement.

“You died a couple of seconds ago.”

“Wait, really?” His eyebrows drew together to form a crease across his forehead, and his mouth twisted as if he had tasted something bitter.

“That’s kind of fucked up. I mean, a good doctor could probably get me breathing again.”

He wouldn’t lie.

Mistakes had happened.

And watching a soul forcibly dragged from the Underworld to be reunited with their body wasn’t something he ever wanted to witness again.

While he would love nothing more than for his mate to have a second chance, to be alive and thriving, he didn’t want to give him false hope.

Considering his manner of death, it seemed unlikely that science alone would be able to revive him.

“Call Orrin,” Keegan demanded.

“Tell him to try CPR.”

“I…” Rune didn’t even know what to say.

That wasn’t how any of this worked.

“I can’t do that. I don’t even have a phone.”

“There’s a tablet right there.” He jabbed his finger at the counter.

“Send a text.”

While the castle was the only place on that side of the river where magic and technology existed together, it was a one-way connection.

They could access information, but they couldn’t connect or interact with the mortal world.

They couldn’t even send messages between devices inside the castle, let alone across dimensions.

“Can’t or won’t? Do you want me to be dead?”

A thread of panic lanced through him as he fumbled for something to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete dick.

Of course, he didn’t want his mate to be dead, but if he hadn’t died, they wouldn’t have met.

And for that, he couldn’t be sorry.

Then Keegan started to laugh.

A mischievous little giggle that rounded his cheeks and made his shoulders bounce.

“Relax, Rune. I’m just messing with you.”

The breath whooshed from his lungs, and his muscles slowly unknotted.

“I’m sorry, kaelaer . If I could change it—”

“No, I get it. I mean, it’s not how I planned to end my weekend, but it could be worse.” His smile faded, and his voice softened until he spoke barely above a whisper.

“I could have ended up in the mirror, too.”

There were no assurances Rune could give that wouldn’t sound like baseless platitudes.

So, instead of trying, he pulled Keegan into his arms and stroked his damp hair, lending him whatever strength he needed until the storm passed.

“I’m okay,” he insisted, but he didn’t pull away.

Turning his head, he rested his ear over Rune’s heart, his gaze focused on Finn.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make that all about me. You were saying something about a missing person?”

The cowboy waved away his apology with a genial smile, and Rune sent him a nod of gratitude.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how I died, but it seems like no one even knows I’m toes up yet.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I reckon Rune’s right. I just need to be patient.” Then he swiveled around on the barstool and slapped his hands down on top of his thighs.

“Anyway, enough bellyaching. You’re probably hungry.”

“I could eat.”

“The chicken is dry but edible, and there’s a salad in the fridge.” He slid off the stool and rounded the island.

“I’d skip the spuds, though.”

Picking up the saddest looking potato Rune had ever seen—black, shriveled, and crumbling—he knocked it against the countertop.

The hollow thud echoed through the room, and flakes of burnt peel scattered across the granite.

After twelve hundred years, it seemed only reasonable to think that Sindri’s cooking would have improved, but he was still a menace in the kitchen.

He enjoyed it, though, and no one else wanted the job, so they rarely complained.

Keegan snorted and shook his head.

“I really have to meet this guy.”

“Meet who?” came a familiar voice from the entryway of the kitchen.

“Hey, stop abusing the potatoes.”

“Too late for that,” Finn shot back.

“What temperature did you set the oven at? Hellfire?”

“Suck it, vampire boy.” Laughing at his own joke, Sindri Ohlson strode into the kitchen and came to a stop directly in front of Rune and his mate.

“You must be Keegan.”

“I am.” He held his hand out in offering.

“You must be Sindri.”

Over six feet tall and built like a tank, the Guardian looked intimidating.

Until he opened his fucking mouth.

“How’d you know? Is it the hair?” He threaded his fingers through his long, golden locks and flipped them to one side.

“It’s the hair, isn’t it?”

Rune rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t be too exasperated when the banter elicited another one of those sweet laughs from his mate.

“What did you find?” he asked, trying to get the Guardian to focus.

Sindri turned to him with a shrug.

“Some stick and a broken mirror. Orrin is putting them in the safe now.”

“Does he know what it is?”

“Nope. He says we’ll have to wait for Erus to get back.”

“Did you see my body?” Keegan asked before Rune could formulate his next question.

The shifter shrugged again.

“Sure. Why do you ask?”

“How did I look?”

“Uh, normal?”

Keegan bobbed his head, his expression thoughtful.

“I didn’t pee myself, did I?”

“Not that I noticed, but I wasn’t really staring at your crotch.”

A growl vibrated in Rune’s chest, spilling from his mouth before he could stop it.

Jealousy was not an emotion he was accustomed to, especially not over something so ridiculous, but it seemed to be a night for firsts.

Sindri seemed confused rather than offended by his outburst. Then, a moment later, his expression cleared, and a smile split his lips.

“Oh, right. You two are in it to win it.” He wagged a finger between Rune and Keegan.

“Congrats.”

Rune pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“What about Hades?”

“What about him?”

“Where is he?” he asked through clenched teeth.

He loved his little Underworld family.

Really, he did. Sometimes, however, he wanted to throttle them.

“With Erus.”

Fantastic.

“What about Elliot?”

Keegan tilted his head.

“Who’s Elliot?”

“The God of Death,” he answered absently.

“The God of Death is named Elliot?” His mate snorted out a laugh.

“You have to be fucking with me.”

“Cross my heart,” Sindri answered, drawing an X over his chest. “You’ll like him. He’s a chill dude.” His gaze flittered back to Rune.

“He’s not here, though. He went with Erus and Hades.”

Oh, for the love of everything unholy.

Where the hell was a god when he needed one?

“So, what now?” Keegan asked, his voice thready with anxiety.

“We just wait until they get back?”

Rune ran a hand through his hair, a growl rumbling in his throat.

He didn’t like it any more than Keegan did, but they had exhausted their options.

“We could try the library,” he said at last. “There might be something about mirror spells there.”

“Yes.” Keegan grabbed his hand, his face alight with hope.

“Let’s do that.”

It was a long shot, and he couldn’t make any guarantees, but at least action—any action—felt better than standing still.