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room. He’d cried all over one of the kitchen workers, thinking the person was his mother. However, the picture in his mind in no way resembled his mom. Even more embarrassing, the worker he’d accosted had been a man.

The night before, he’d wanted to go over October’s schedule with him but ended up yelling at Thane for being inappropriately naked with a fire burning in the leader’s office. Then he’d blinked, and the room was as it should be with October sitting behind his desk, studying Zasha with obvious concern. Everyone in the house probably thought he’d snapped under the stress and was going insane. Honestly, he couldn’t blame them.

That wasn’t even the point he was trying to make, though. “Thane, I don’t believe in all this fairy tale, happily-ever-after, true-love-will-find-a-way stuff.” Sighing under his breath, he reached out and cupped Thane’s cheek. “I’m not trying to hurt you, but if you’re waiting for me to fall in love, I’m sorry. It’s not going to happen.”

Thane didn’t appear offended or even upset. In fact, he was smiling from ear to ear. “Why do you want to go with me to hunt the witches?”

“Caring about your happiness, safety, and general well-being does not equate to love.”

If that was really the extent of it, then doctors would be in love with their patients. It was like darkness. People talked about the dark as though it was a physical thing, when in actuality, it was as abstract as any emotion. There was no way to measure the darkness, only the absence of light. There was no way to measure love, either, yet people tried daily to quantify it.

“If you say so.” The smug grin never left Thane’s visage as he pushed to his feet and pulled his shirt off over his head. “I’m going to grab a shower and hit the sack. We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

Oh, his mate was a stubborn fool, but Zasha found it endearing. Sure, it could be irritating at times, but he couldn’t fault the man for his unconditional hope and optimism. Thane now knew how he felt about love and everything it supposedly encompassed, and strangely, it hadn’t deterred him. If anything, he seemed more determined than ever to change Zasha’s opinion. Hell, he’d actually looked excited by the challenge.

Truth be told, Zasha secretly and selfishly enjoyed the little game. For all of his complaints, he liked knowing Thane believed him worth the pursuit. Besides, it wasn’t like he was a cold, hardened bastard with no emotions at all. He just didn’t subscribe to the trappings of conventional love.

He was capable of tenderness and affection, and he conveyed the depths of his emotions through actions rather than words. To him, that was far better than spewing the same three little, overused words until they lost all sense of meaning.

Hearing the shower come on in the bathroom, he pushed to his feet and sighed. No matter how he tried to justify it to himself, he knew deep down that Thane would never see things his way. Once again, he had to ask himself how fate could have paired two individuals so vastly different from one another, and more importantly, where were they going to find their middle ground?

Chapter Nine

By the time the plane touched down in Nevada, Thane seriously hated life and everything about his own existence. His temples throbbed, sending shooting pains into his right eye. Even the dim light of the jet cabin aggravated his condition, and the rocky descent through the raging storm had his stomach tied in knots. Nausea bubbled in his gut, and bile rose in his esophagus while cold sweat coated his skin.

Lightning flashed and thunder boomed, splitting the sky to the torrential downpour that flooded the tarmac. The wind howled and screamed, whipping the rain sideways so that it pelted against the tiny windows of the plane like machine gun fire. With a wave of his hand, Thane used his magic to slide the plastic shade closed and rolled his head to the side with a pathetic groan.

“Hey,” Zasha murmured, pushing the sweat-dampened locks back from Thane’s forehead. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

Thane grunted, unable to bear the pain of even a short nod. “I think I’m dying.”

“Good thing you’re not dramatic or anything,” Zasha teased. “Did you take something for the headache?”

“Yes, dear.” He’d downed the aspirin and bottle of water his mate had given him halfway through the flight, but all the medication had done was increase his nausea. It had been a long time since he’d experienced a migraine of this magnitude, and he didn’t have time to curl into the fetal position for the next three days. “Make it stop.” His neck cramped and the muscles in his shoulders knotted, causing him to whimper in agony. “I’m no good like this.”

“Okay, okay, easy, sweetheart.” Curling his fingers around the back of Thane’s neck, Zasha massaged the tight muscles as he pulled him closer. “A kiss will cure what ails you.”

This was not something Zasha could kiss and make better, but even sick, Thane wasn’t going to turn down a taste of those delectable lips. The brush of lips was brief, and the tangle of their tongues briefer, but the distinct coppery taste of blood lingered when Zasha pulled away. Within seconds, the pain vanished, his muscles relaxed, and the droplets of perspiration dried on his skin.

“Thank you,” he breathed reverently, grateful not only that Zasha’s blood had the ability to heal him, but that his mate had offered him the cure. “You are too good to me.”

“Hush. You’d do the same for me.”

This was true, but it didn’t make him any less thankful. After Thane’s revelation the night before—and the circular conversation that followed—he felt they’d both been trying much harder to be considerate of each other. Nothing had really been accomplished, and their talk had found them right back to where they’d started, but there was something different,

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