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Clay took the picture. One of the other men was Asian, and the last one was a young blond. The blond was grinning at the camera, but everyone else had serious expressions.

“They look…old,” Clay said in a rough voice.

Dane shifted next to him, confusion putting lines in his face. “They look about the same age as you do now.”

“No,” Clay paused and frowned, trying to figure out the best way to put it. They might all have stopped aging the moment they got their powers, but the weight of the years could be seen on them. “Look at their eyes. They’ve been together for a long time. Maybe even decades. They’ve fought a lot of battles.”

They’d been fighting pestilents.

They’d all died.

A wave of dark horror washed through Clay’s chest. Dane’s hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed. This was concrete proof that they’d existed before.

That they’d failed.

These men had lived in this house. They laughed, argued, fought, cried, and lost. They tried to save their world.

What had gone wrong?

He vowed to make the aunts talk. He needed to know what the others had done wrong, even though they felt that would only hamper their efforts now. Seeing the picture brought everything into sharp focus.

“Is there anything else in the trunk?”

Dane dug through it again and came up with a wallet. Inside was a driver’s license of the young blond. He’d been nineteen the year the picture had been taken. His name had been Oz.

“Someone packed his things and put them up here. Someone cared enough to keep his memory alive. He must have been killed early then.” Clay touched the image. “We have to make sure the past doesn’t repeat itself.” He looked up at Dane, who’d gone pale. “I know, baby,” he whispered.

“I can’t lose you, Clay,” Dane said, his voice cracking.

“You won’t. We’re going to be stronger this time. I have you to fight for, don’t I? And you’re going to fight for all the Weavers.”

Baer backed up with the framed picture still clutched tightly in both hands. “I’m going to show Grey what we found.” He walked to the first wardrobe he’d opened and picked up the salami. He paused and waved it at Clay. “Found the meat!” And then he was disappearing down the stairs in a loud thunder of footsteps on bare wood boards.

Clay stood and took Dane into his arms. “It’s going to be different this time. I promise.”

Dane shook his head against Clay’s chest. “You can’t promise that. You can’t know how this is going to go. Look at how many times you’ve failed in the past.”

“We obviously didn’t fail completely. We’ve managed to heal that rift each time before they started the process over again. This time, we just have to find a way to make that healing permanent.”

Dane shuddered, wrapping tight arms around Clay. “I love you. I love you more than I thought I could. It will kill me if something happens to you.”

Clay searched his brain for something to say that would ease Dane’s fears, something that wasn’t a bunch of ridiculous platitudes and outright lies. But to his shock, he felt Dane take a couple of deep breaths and actually straighten his shoulders before pulling away enough to look up at Clay.

“But I can’t live in fear of what might happen to you. I’ll miss out on all the wonderful time we have together, whether it is one more day or a hundred years.”

“I…” Clay was shocked. He didn’t know what to say.

“You’re right. It is going to be different this time. I’m here. We’re going to find more soul mates. The Circle is going to be stronger than it’s ever been before.”

Reaching up, Clay gently ran his fingers over Dane’s cheek. “Is this Grey’s doing? Your talks…”

A small blush stained Dane’s cheeks, and his eyes darted away for a second. “I hope you don’t mind. I know you told him that you don’t want him fucking around in my mind, but…I was drowning after you and Grey came back hurt. I was afraid of losing you. Afraid of not being enough to save you all.”

Something uncomfortable twisted in Clay’s stomach, and he tried to tamp down the fear, knowing Dane would be able to feel it as well. “Did…did he use his power—”

“No!” Dane answered quickly. “No, I swear, he didn’t. He didn’t make me forget or anything. He just let me talk through it. He’s better than any therapist because he knows when you’re lying to him and when you’re lying to yourself. He just helped me see that I’m wasting so much time clinging to my fears and insecurities. I want to be strong for you and all the Weavers.”

Clay jerked him forward, their chests crashing together as he gripped Dane in a tight hug. “You are, baby. You are so fucking strong. Never doubt that.”


Tags: Jocelynn Drake, Rinda Elliott The Weavers Circle Romance