Devon Morgan [Seven Brothers for McBride 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (16 page)

“Good point.” Devon pulled out some clothing and tossed it on the bed. “I’ll have to get you a pair of shoes, but these pants should fit and this shirt.”

Karsten tried the brown pants and light blue shirt on. Both were a little big, but not ridiculously so. He had a tremendous range of movement in the loose clothing, which seemed like a benefit if he was going to be doing field work.

“You don’t mind working?”

“Not at all.” Karsten considered the hats and selected one, asking if he could wear it by lifting his brow. When Devon agreed with a nod of his head, Karsten plunked it on. “I want to help. It’s my home now, too, after all.”

“There’s one last thing.” Devon pulled a box out of the very back of the closet. “After what happened, I guess you might not want one, but it’s tradition and I feel like I should at least offer.”

Curious, Karsten stepped close and peered inside. Much like his discovery of Devon in the tub with a battalion of ducks, this was sweet and almost poignant.

“I never thought I’d have anyone to wear even one, but I kept buying them. I think it was a way of trying to make my dream come true.”

Dozens of different collars filled the box. Karsten had never seen so many in one place. “In the thrall house, we were given our first collar at seven.”

“Seven?”

“It’s the time when we go from being seen as babies to being seen as children.” Karsten found himself touching the collars, especially the brightly colored ones.

“And then?”

“What?” Karsten looked up. “Sorry, I’m distracted. They’re all so different yet all so beautiful.”

“Pick one.”

“You should pick.”

“You’re the one who has to wear it. If you want to wear it.” Devon frowned. “I know it’s tradition, but I don’t want you to feel constrained.”

“That’s already happening because of the clothes.” Karsten laughed. “I’ve gone my whole lifetime without. But to get back to the collars. Each year we are graduated to the next level and got a new collar. They’re always white, indicating we are too young to mate, but they become worn or too small. Eventually, when we are eighteen, we are given the color that indicates our value.”

“And that didn’t bother you?”

Karsten shrugged. “Mine was pink—top price—so I can’t really complain. I don’t know what it was like to get a lower color.”

“Alden’s was yellow.”

“Yellow? What was wrong with him?”

“He’s deaf. You have to touch his shoulder, get his attention, and then talk to him.”

“Is he—does his slammer love him?” Karsten wondered if the others saw him as less important because of his low color rank.

“Gannon loves him more than, well, anything. He dotes on him.”

“That’s sweet.” Karsten found a collar that he liked and handed it to Devon. “Is this one okay?”

“It’s a little flashy.”

“Is it?” Karsten considered the hot-pink leather with the glittering stones. “I guess that’s why I like it. Maybe I should wear something else for work, though.” He set that one aside and found a basic brown collar. “This?”

“I think that’s better for work.” Devon put it on him and kissed him lightly, right below his ear.

Karsten turned, and when he caught his reflection in the mirror, he winced.

“I don’t see that when I look at you.”

Karsten nodded, but the hideous scars were all that he could see.

“Here.” Devon removed the collar and offered out a creamy beige scarf made of finely woven
tallos
fibers.

“This is far too fine to wear while working.” But he was loathe to take it off when it covered up his neck and boosted his confidence.

“This is a
tallos
farm, remember? I have dozens of these.”

“Are you sure?” Karsten couldn’t stop touching the fabric. It was so soft and felt soothing against his skin.

“Very.” Devon embraced him from behind.

They spent some time looking at their reflection in the mirror. Karsten thought they looked stunning together. With his pale eyes, black hair, and bronzed skin, Devon looked tough, proud, but there was that spark of whimsy in his gaze. For his part, Karsten was pale and tiny, but somehow he didn’t look frail next to his mate. Perhaps it was the way he held him or the confidence he’d managed to give back to him, but when Karsten looked at himself, he honestly liked what he saw.

“Thank you.”

“For?” Devon kissed the edge of Karsten’s ear.

“For saving me. For claiming me. For making me whole.” Karsten turned his back on the reflection and pressed himself closer to his mate.

“Thank you for doing the same for me.” Devon kissed him very softly then swept him up into his arms.

“Why are you carrying me?”

“To get you boots.”

Cradled in his arms, they went out to complete his outfit and then work, but Karsten knew the time would pass and then he and Devon would be home again, throwing themselves into bed and losing themselves in another happy adventure.

McBride turned away from Devon’s house just in time to see Caleb walk past his front door. He was no longer wearing his shorts, but full pants, shirt, vest, and his heaviest work boots. Only a man determined to go with what he could carry would be so overdressed for a hot day. On his head he’d settled a wide-brim hat that would shade his eyes from the glaring sun. Instead of letting his hair tumble free around his shoulders, he’d pulled it back into a long tail that went halfway down his back. He’d curled the tail around his neck so he could slip a bulging pack over his massive shoulders.

Even though he was completely covered, McBride saw below the clothing. Nothing could hide his powerful body. Somehow, the cut and drab beige tone enhanced his size and his beauty. Caleb would never be an ugly man. He could be riddled with scars, lose his hair, and suffer the ravages of time, but to McBride, he would always be amazingly handsome. He would always look at him with longing.

Hunger for blood made his teeth extend. McBride rubbed the tips with his tongue, hating the need Caleb evoked. So far, only Caleb had been able to spark the longing to bloodbond. As McBride took another long drink of his visual form, he realized he had a physical need, too. But this wasn’t violent, like what he’d felt a few times before. This was something softer and far more dangerous because all his emotions were engaged. McBride no longer wanted to fuck Caleb. He wanted to make slow, sweet love to him. McBride shook his head and smiled at his own folly. If he were being completely honest, he wanted to do both. First, he would lay his claim to Caleb with tenderness and then he would fuck him with wild abandon. It was easy to picture their bedtime as vacillating between the two extremes until they were very old men.

But that took the smile off his face. There would be no happily ever after for them. That was quite impossible when they weren’t together. Maybe someday Caleb would return, but in the most honest part of his heart, McBride knew that wasn’t going to happen. Once Caleb walked away, he would never return. If he had nothing else, Caleb had his pride. The way McBride saw it, Caleb had far too much pride because he was letting that get in the way of love.

Desperate for distraction, McBride joined the butler in preparing Ollie’s old mechanical house for Quintus’s visit. After seeing how things had worked out for Devon and Karsten, McBride again considered “accidentally” getting himself quarantined with Quintus in the hopes of turning his attention permanently away from Caleb.

As he considered the idea, he realized it was foolish for multiple reasons, mainly because with Caleb gone and McBride out of commission, Jonas would be in charge. That was all well and good as far as the garden went, but if there was a problem, McBride wasn’t so certain he had confidence in Jonas’s ability to lead the men. He recalled again they needed a plan and he needed to let everyone know about the stores and weapons.

Not that Jonas was a fool, quite the opposite, but Jonas had no skill when it came to dealing with troubled men. Right now, the entire county of Woven Spire was nothing but lawlessness. From what Karsten had told Caleb, who said he didn’t believe him but his face said otherwise, the slammers were turning on their masters. Without men to feed from, the gentrymen were raiding thrall houses looking for easy blood slaves. So then the slammers were hunting gentrymen to claim their thralls and then kill their former masters. It was a mess that no amount of lawmen could stop. As much as McBride wanted to stomp into town and put a stop to the chaos, he’d only end up dead if he did.

He was better off staying here and keeping as much of the mess off his land that he could. If only he could find a way to convince Caleb to stay. McBride thought again of what he could offer him, but the best thing he owned was himself, and Caleb made it clear he no longer wanted him.

As if summoned, Caleb went walking past the window. He didn’t look left or right but straight ahead. If McBride was going to stop him, he would have to do it now or never. His feet moved of their own volition toward the door, but just as he reached out, McBride stopped himself. He’d said all he could say. Nothing was going to change Caleb’s mind. Again, McBride told himself that if he really loved Caleb, and he believed he did, he had to let him go.

But watching Caleb walk away was the worse sight McBride had ever seen in his life.

THE END

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