Chapter 13

N athan had never struggled much with jealousy.

As an only child of older parents, he had been doted over, and when he joined the military, some of his friends were married or had sweethearts. One man swapped over fiancés in two different towns, much to the delight of his comrades.

But Nathan never paid much attention to the opposite sex, plus they were thin on the ground, and the ones of marriageable age weren’t interesting to Nathan.

Recently, he felt faint jealous stirrings in the presence of Dante and Maria, whose love transcended any that Nathan had seen.

Now, he struggled . He fought . His jealousy was a long rope around his throat, with knots that couldn’t be undone.

Knots the size of John LeClair.

And the newest snarl was in the form of Will Cochran. Will was out there now, comforting Lillian, offering protection. Touching her. He had looked into her eyes and known their color.

The plane shot through the sky, and thirty-thousand feet below, Lillian was at Graceland Cemetery, weeping after slamming Nathan out. He tasted her tears on the back of his tongue, knew the pressure in her chest and the tight coil of her fists.

He needed to smash something. Where was the trusty Ford F150 when he needed it? Resting his head against the seat, he closed his eyes and let his mind drift. His safe, solitary world had shattered when Lillian Called to him. And yet, he’d never be sorry for it.

When he hit the ground, he immediately hailed a cab and shot off through Chicago, running blind, opening his mind, seeking her. She felt closer than ever.

The cell phone trilled and he rammed a fist into his pocket, fumbling to bring it to his ear in his desperation to learn about her.

“Will, what’s going on? She shut me out.”

“I know. She told me.”

“She—” The words boiled on Nathan’s tongue, but came out dead. “She told you.”

“Cut the jealousy bullshit with me, Nate. It’s not like that between us.”

“How is it then?”

“She’s like a sister. And speaking of jealousy—that leads me to the reason for my call.”

Nathan was still mulling the ‘like a sister’ part, so Will plunged ahead.

“You’re ripping her up with your jealousy.”

“R…ripping her up? Do you have any?—”

“Hear me out before you have an aneurysm, Nate. Imagine for an instant you had found a mortal woman and fallen in love with her. Despite the fact that she was mortal, you chose to bind yourself to her and live your life loving her.”

Nathan drew an unsteady breath. “Okay.”

“Then one day Lillian Called to you, setting your world on its axis. You had to search for her, be with her or die. But your old wife is still at home, and you love her too.”

He had been holding his breath, and it whooshed out. “John LeClair isn’t mortal.”

“Yes, but you’re a smart man. The same principle applies. What you and Lillian have is a higher Calling than what she has with him.”

“You said he was in her. You said you saw him in her .” He choked on the words.

“I did.” Damn Will for sounding so calm. “He is in her.”

“How do you know there isn’t a mark? An imprint medallion?” Nathan practically yelled into the phone. The cab driver glanced over the seat.

A resounding silence filled Nathan’s ear. Awkwardly, Will cleared his throat. “Uh, I looked.”

Nathan’s throat constricted, but not before he shoved out the jagged words. “You looked!”

“Remember the warning about the aneurysm, Nate? You should heed that now.”

“Just exactly how did you see it, Will?”

“I pulled the neck of her sweater down real quick. There’s nothing there. I had to know what you were up against.”

The image of Will’s finger hooking into her sweater, brushing her flesh. It was too much. “Will, if I had you in front of me?—”

He cut Nathan off. “I’m really cautioning you here. She shut you out because she can’t deal with your jealousy. I know you’re jealous, that it’s eating you up. But Lillian… she’s a mess. She’s torn and she’s not holding up well. So think about your hypothetical mortal wife before you judge her actions.”

Ending the call, Nathan dropped his head into his hands, feeling the grit of his unshaven face and seething at the thought of more knots being added to that rope.

Would Ricardo, the immortal who had lost his mate when their blood didn’t mesh, fall in love with Lillian too? What about the immortals who occasionally graced Dante’s doorstep, seeking company and advice? Would they all fall in love with her?

And how many others had there been over the decades? Her mortal husband. Boyfriends. Sweethearts.

Though his thoughts ran green, he grew calm. He pictured her again, lying between stark white sheets, lips forming his name.

When it came down to it, she bore his mark. So for the moment, Nathan let go of his rope of jealousy and instead spent long minutes fantasizing about his first meeting with her.

I’m near. Closer to living than I’ve ever been. And I’m closing the gap.

KEEP READING LILLIAN AND NATHAN’S STORY IN PART 2 OF THE FATED FOREVERMORE DUET, WHISPERS OF ETERNITY