Searching for a Soul to Love Read online

  Copyright © 2018 by JP Sayle

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Book Cover design by Jay Aheer Simply Defined Art

  Editing by Pam Ebeler

  Undivided Editing

  Proofreading by Tanja Ongkiehong

  Book Formatting by Champagne Book Design

  References to real people, events, organisations, locations or establishments are only intended to give a sense of authenticity and have been used fictitiously.

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark on: Shine Om, Fitbit, TT races, Browning Pistol, Kenneth Cole, Barclays Bank, Mop Hair, Google, Skoda, Hawthorne, Disney, Marvel Comics, Apple, Lush, Volkswagen, Vans, Audi, FaceTime, Skype, Pepsi, Porsche, Tinder, BMW, Mercedes-Benz, Henley, M134 Minigun, Orvertio, Honda.

  Films, music, and lyrics mentions are the property of the copyright holders.

  Warning

  The content of some of this book is sexually graphic, with the use of explicit language and adult situations involving two males. It is only intended for mature adults.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Synopsis

  Dedication

  Ellie Goulding—Halcyon Days

  Authors Note

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other Books by the Author

  Greg has lived an ordinary life until one fateful morning when all that changes. Greg has no clue how much his life is about to transform when he encounters Aaden and subsequently his cat. When odd things start to happen, Greg finds he must trust in things he’d never dreamed were conceivable while attempting to understand why Aaden is fighting their mutual attraction tooth and nail.

  Aaden has known since he was fourteen that he was different. Not only did he discover he was gay, but he also had a strange and bizarre connection to Max, the cat his parents adopted. Plagued for years with visions of another time and place, Aaden finds he must fulfil a promise. A promise that has nothing to do with him, but yet, it has everything to do with him.

  He finds that he must right a wrong that happened centuries earlier and acknowledge and accept his true soulmate. Sounds simple, right? Then why does life seem to be conspiring to stop him from connecting with Greg, on every level?

  Max is an extraordinary cat. He was the king of his kind—the Manx Cat Guardians—until he messed with the fates and became a soul bearer. For centuries, he has carried the burden of knowing he needs to aid the souls he carries, to find their true recipients and fulfil a promise made.

  Can he finally right the wrongs of the past when he has been keeping secrets, especially when the fates seem to be interfering? Only time will tell.

  For those of you that have found and lost love, life has a way of giving back what was lost, once you accept the fear and let go, trusting the universe.

  To my family and friends who have supported me. The love I feel for you guys is unmeasurable in time and space. Your continued support makes my heart sing and dance with joy.

  Bobster, my rock, my own soulmate, may the next twenty-five years bring all our dreams to reality.

  Mandy, I love you.

  Mum and Dad, you may be gone, but you’re never forgotten.

  To those who have taken a chance and read my books, you have my unwavering thanks. I hope I give you a little of light relief from your everyday lives.

  Jody Richey, as promised, my lovely, I hope this truly is a birthday gift you enjoy. Aaden & Greg have been waiting patiently for you ☺

  Lastly to Tanja, yet again, you gave me a gift that is truly beyond measure. I can’t wait to meet you in 2019

  Song Lyrics – My Blood.

  This song really captured the emotions and the reality for me of Magnus’s pain and endurance. I hope you take the time to listen to Ellie’s song and feel the emotions that she created that allowed my characters to come to life.

  “The lost dreams are buried in my sleep for him

  And this was the ecstasy of a love forgotten

  And I’m thrown in the gunfire of empty bullets

  And my blood is all I see

  As you steal my soul from me”

  The book Where it All Began, links directly to this book, and the author would recommend reading that book first to help understand the history and background to this story. There are also connections to book two, Destiny Collides, Past and Present, that may be helpful to the reader, but it is not essential to read that book before this one.

  Throughout history, we have witnessed thousands of strange, unexplained ancient mysteries. Many could undoubtedly be explained away as everyday events that we merely misunderstood. However, there remains a large number that defies all logic.

  Folklore tales mention “animal familiars,” often repeated in fables. Magical spirit creatures resonated throughout history in creation myths. “Familiars” or “spirits” often were seen as a type of guardian angel. Over centuries, these stories were forgotten.

  Mystical Manx cats originate on a little island in the middle of the Irish Sea, the Isle of Man. Identified only by their lack of a tail, these mythical creatures’ abilities became elusive, much like the Manx fairies. But those that have the privilege of living with one of these unique animals have an innate understanding that they are so much more than just a pure cat.

  August 1998

  Max felt Aaden sink into sleep as children do, dropping like a stone. Aaden barely stirred as Max contemplated how to handle things. He understood a child’s mind was broader, easier at accepting the strange and different things the world had to offer.

  His original plans had been scuppered by rushing to imbue King Óláfr’s soul into Aaden’s. It had been a risk he’d taken when he’d recognised Aaden as the actual recipient of the soul he’d protected for centuries. The urge to offload his burden had been too much to resist.

  Now Aaden was paying the price. Feeling King Óláfr’s pull stronger tonight, he’d been compelled to go to Aaden to alleviate his confusion. He wasn’t entirely sure Aaden was ready for what he needed to explain.

  Worrying his whiskers, he prayed Aaden didn’t do or say anything stupid, like telling people he could talk to cats. Some of the previous owners had done just that, and none had understood his purpose when he’d tried to explain it. His chest rumbled with the hope Aaden would be different.

  Max shifted his vast bulk, getting comfortable on the narrow single bed. Resting his head down, he year
ned for this to be the end of his very, very long journey. He paid no attention to the voices in his head telling him not to count his chickens, just yet. Instead, he closed his eyes, resting his head on Aaden’s chest, listening to the solid drumming heartbeat.

  His mind drifted.

  Tomorrow was another day.

  Max stirred, feeling Aaden’s mind start to waken. The memories of the night before still hung between them. Max took a hard look at Aaden, praying that this would be the final time that he could put an end to the hundreds of years of failure.

  Am I trying to convince myself something is different this time? The time he’d spent stewing overnight on the past made him wonder if he’d really felt a difference this time. No, I did. By the God Njord and the Goddess Freyja, I did. It was different this time. He may not know why, but his senses alerted him to something that had him anticipating the coming years when Aaden would become a man.

  Feeling warm hands stroke down his back, digging in just hard enough to make him purr in pleasure, he arched under Aaden’s large hands, forgetting his worries.

  He recognised it was time for their conversation, for him to explain some of his purposes. Shifting under the warm hands, he looked directly into Aaden’s dark eyes, eyes that reminded him so much of Óláfr’s. The urge to tell him everything, as he’d never done with Óláfr or the others, hit him right in the solar plexus and made him mewl in distress.

  Aaden’s large body started. Sitting up far too quickly, he dislodged the warm duvet under Max, propelling him towards the floor. He landed in an unexpected heap, and the loud disgruntled meow had laughing dark eyes peering over the side of the bed, just as giggles erupted from across the room.

  Disgruntled, Max got up, shaking off the stinky T-shirt covered in semen now stuck to his behind, shuddering in disgust when the scent clung to his fur. He glowered up at Aaden’s broad-grinning face, purposely ignoring Nick in the opposite bed.

  “You need to be mindful, young man, if you don’t want me dragging that dirty T-shirt over to your brother.” Max stuck his nose in the air with a happy smirk when Aaden gave him an alarmed look a second before he cast a wary look at Nick. Max felt like patting himself on his back when he noticed that Aaden’s thoughts were calm and he had no urge to go running from the room screaming for his parents.

  He took all this as a positive sign. He jumped back up on the bed next to Aaden, gracefully curling into a comfortable position so he could clean his fur. Hoping he was acting nonchalant. So as not freak out Aaden, Max spoke softly.

  “When Nick goes to school, we can talk privately. I’m sure you have the urge to speak out loud. That happens a lot to begin with. But don’t worry, it wears off pretty quickly. I’ll answer all your questions, and remember you are not going mad. I promise.” Keeping his gaze on Aaden, he watched for any signs of a freak-out, not entirely convinced it wouldn’t happen at any moment.

  “Okay.” Aaden’s broad shoulders shrugged. “I’ll try not to talk out loud. But you gotta promise to answer all my questions.”

  He gave a nod in acquiescence, though he wasn’t sure Aaden would be quite ready for everything, even when he could sense the excitement leaking through their link. Max couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face, making his whiskers twitch with his own delight.

  Yes, yes, he felt it again as he watched Aaden busy himself getting dressed and play-fight with his brother. It was different, and by the Goddess Freyja, he hoped this would be the last time he would have to endure failure.

  2017

  The Isle of Mann

  Max strained to contain his yowl at being kept caged inside the van, but it would appear these cretins on the boat did not allow cats to roam, only foolish dogs. Meowing loudly, he opened his link and was tempted to teleport, but still feeling the after-effects from the other week, he changed his mind.

  A picture popped past the barrier he thought he’d secured in place after seeing a specific little black cat. He shook off his thoughts when images of a little black swaying bottom pushed to the forefront of his mind.

  He’d known instantly she was one of his kin. Though as far as he could tell, she was far removed from him and more connected to Morgana’s side of the family, thank the Goddess Freyja. He couldn’t be having unsavoury thoughts about close family members. His fur lifted, hackles rising at the very thought.

  No, that wouldn’t do at all.

  He searched through his link with Morgana, accessing her memories. Grinning like a fool when the name popped into his head, Princess. Yes, she totally was!

  Grunting in disapproval at his growing excitement, he focused on what he could glean about her lineage. Pleased when he realised she really was a very, very distant relative and her mother, Morgan’s niece, was queen of her own domain.

  He sensed this was why she was a right little madam and kept true to her name, Princess. He’d bet anything she was a naughty girl. He shuddered at how naughty he could be with her.

  Stop that nonsense right now! He gave himself a stern talking to, knowing he wasn’t fooling anyone when he decided to make sure to keep a close eye on her. He assured himself it was to purely make sure she behaved herself. No, there was definitely no other reason. Nope, so not going there.

  He pulled his mind out of the gutter, thinking about how things had left him with little knowledge of whom or where all the guardians were. He tried to shrug it off. He supposed he had no one to blame for the change to his role to soul bearer.

  The other guardians had all been given additional responsibilities because of the FUBAR he’d created in the twelfth century. Manannán, it appeared, wanted to ensure they all behaved themselves. He’d set about creating new laws to govern them, and though Max was still the king of his kind, his primary role had changed, making it more of a title now after all these centuries.

  Not that Max minded no longer having to endure so many voices inside his head. Those who watched over their domains were responsible for the actions of their guardians, and though ultimately Max retained overall responsibility for his kind, he no longer had to deal with the day-to-day squabbles, thank the God Njord.

  His mind circled back, reminding him this was a good thing, even if it left him out of the loop and no longer aware of all the guardians, especially the cute little one going to be living across the road from him.

  Sighing when tutting filtered into his mind and catching his naughty wayward thoughts, he acknowledged Princess’s mother’s presence before shutting her out of his mind. Max tilted his head, considering.

  His eyes narrowed as realisation dawned that his links with the others had grown stronger the closer they got to the island and the origins of his kind.

  Distracted as the thrumming under him slowed, his ears pricked up at the sound of the engines shutting down. He breathed in deep. His senses enjoyed the slight scent of the sea seeping through the metal hull, and memories flooded past his defences.

  They’d relived that fateful night over and over. All the while Óláfr had willed his death ever closer. The following thirty-six years had felt like an eternity, never-ending for both of them, scarring Max for life. The burdens sat inside him as a constant reminder of what happens when you mess with the fates.

  In some way, he’d been relieved on the eve of Óláfr’s death when his soul had finally joined Magnus’s, inside him. Max found that he couldn’t stay a minute longer on the Isle, so had hidden on one of the longships, travelling towards an unknown future. Unsure where he needed to go, he’d wandered aimlessly. He strayed further and further from home, never feeling the urge to return, not once.

  In all those years, he wondered why he’d never come back. He knew he’d struggle with the nightmares Óláfr and he had suffered and endured, but he wasn’t sure that was the only thing keeping him away.

  Now that the fates had stepped in again, millennia later, Aaden’s friend Joe needed their help, making it nigh on impossible to avoid returning home when Joe had moved to the Isle of Man
n several weeks earlier.

  Max plonked his head down on his gleaming white paws, the weight of his guilt spreading like butter on hot toast. His mind was distracted for a second by the thoughts of food, and he sighed when he couldn’t avoid the question that had nagged at him since he’d known they would be coming here.

  How am I going to explain to Aaden about the past?

  The bits Max had purposefully held back now seemed to mock his fear of changing the destiny of their fates. He’d learnt the hard way over the many years he’d searched that you couldn’t mess with the future, not unless you wanted an arse whooping. Max brushed his paw down his backside. Yep, his arse had most definitely been whooped.

  That, however, was not going to help him out of his current predicament. He recalled all the times he’d changed the subject when Aaden got too close to asking questions Max wouldn’t answer. Instead he’d regaled him with parts of history not found in their textbooks. He knew it was bad not to tell him, but for some reason, he felt it necessary not to tell him everything.

  Now with these urges and needs pulsing through him, he worried he might have made a mistake not telling Aaden the full story. His solid reasoning at the time now was holier than one of Joe’s jumpers, and that was saying something. Wasn’t it the reason he’d teleported back to the island in the first place to check out their new home, but also to check how he would feel being home at the scene of his crime.

  His mind quickly reminded him he’d gotten more than he bargained for. Burying his head in his paws, he prayed it wouldn’t be much longer before they could get off and allow him out of his cage.