Where it all Began 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

  Book formatting by Champagne Book Design

  Editing for authenticity by Gina Fišerová

  Proofreading by Tanja Ongkiehong

  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: Disney, Marvel Comics

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

  Warning

  This is the prequel to book 1 and 2 in this series and can be read as a stand-alone, but it does make a small reference to book 2 and will connect into book 3, which will be released sometime in the summer.

  This book has some themes of violence, along with references to sexual content and one adult situation involving two males. It is only intended for mature adults.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Synopsis

  Dedication

  Ellie Goulding—Halcyon Days

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other Books by the Author

  The King of the otherworld, Manannán, witnessing changes to how the love between those who chose differently was being accepted, intervened. Wanting the world to have love and hope eternally, ensuring that soulmates connected without restrictions regardless of the person they chose to love, he created the Manx Cat Guardians.

  Maximillian, born in the eleventh century, King of his kind, he struggled to always follow the rules King Manannán had laid down. Given no choice about his destiny like his fellow guardians, he’d been granted a Wiccan guide to aid him.

  Never having had any problems with his past charges, Maximillian finds himself struggling to get his current charge, King Óláfr the Black, to accept his soulmate Magnus, a lowly servant. The connection is strong between them, but the changing times that Manannán witnessed and the introduction of Christianity had Óláfr struggling to accept his soulmate.

  Ignoring the dire warning from Christina, his Wiccan guide, about interfering, Maximillian finds himself creating ripples from his actions with untold consequences that cause devastation. As he is left to wander this earth, his role irrevocably changed by his actions. He must now ensure promises that were made are honoured, no matter the length of time that passes.

  Can he help fulfil those promises made by another without breaking the rules again? Or will the souls searching for love be destined to never find each other?

  Only time will tell.

  When we are important to another person, that person will always find a way to make time for us, no excuse, no lies, and no broken promises. We tend to forget how precious life is, so remember to love and live now in this moment. We are never guaranteed the next.

  This book was a surprise to me, a dream fulfilled by those who encourage me to be me, and for that, I will be eternally grateful. You know who you are.

  To my other half, I thank you from the bottom of my bottomless pool of love. Life wouldn’t be the same without you.

  To my twin, remember our dream will be our future.

  To those who had given me their unwavering support, I thank you and want you to know that no matter how big or small it has been, I have truly appreciated it, even if I don’t say it often enough for you to know.

  My eternal gratitude to Tanja for your very generous support, you are a total superstar.

  To those who chose to take a risk on a new author who is still finding her way through the maze of writing, thank you. Your feedback is most welcome and part of the reason for this book.

  Song Lyrics—Explosions really sum up this book for me, enjoy.

  You trembled like you’d seen a ghost

  And I gave in

  I lack the things you need the most

  You said where have you been

  You wasted all that sweetness to run and hide

  I wonder why

  I remind you of the days you poured your heart into

  But you never tried

  I’ve fallen from grace

  Took a blow to my face

  I’ve loved and I’ve lost

  I’ve loved and I’ve lost

  Explosions on the day you wake up

  Needing somebody and you’ve learned

  It’s okay to be afraid

  But it will never be the same

  It will never be the same

  You left my soul bleeding in the dark

  So you could be king

  The rules you set are still untold to me and I

  Lost my faith in everything

  The nights you could cope, your intentions were gold

  But the mountains will shake

  I need to know I can still make

  Explosions on the day you wake up

  Needing somebody and you’ve learned

  It’s okay to be afraid

  But it will never be the same

  And as the floods move in

  And your body starts to sink

  I was the last thing on your mind

  I know you better than you think

  ‘Cause it’s simple darling, I gave you a warning

  Now everything you own is falling from the sky in pieces

  So watch them fall with you, in slow motion

  I pray that you will find peace of mind

  And I’ll find you another time

  I’ll love you, another time

  Explosions on the day you wake up

  Needing somebody and you’ve learned

  It’s okay to be afraid

  But it will never be the same

  August 1998

  Shaking off the weird dream that had woken him yet again, Aaden rubbed his clammy hands down his PJs, feeling the erratic thud of his heart trying to push itself out of his chest. Casting a nervous look across the room to check that his brother Nick wasn’t awake, he gave a huge sigh of relief. The small night-light his mother had left on allowed him to see the lump in the middle of the bed opposite. Listening to the soft snores coming from under the Batman duvet cover, he sagged back onto his soft bed. Relaxing, Aaden pushed back the plain dark duvet cover noiselessly, figuring he couldn’t be too cautious when he so didn’t want to get caught having a wank; he’d never hear the end of it.

  It was times like these he wished he had a room of his own and didn’t have to share with his ten-year-old brother, who, as far as he was concerned, was a pain in his arse. Privacy was a rare commodity for a fourteen-year-old boy who had needs. Needs that over the past few months were making themselves known every night, and it was starting to make Aaden worry.

  Aaden pushed his hand into his sticky pyjama bottoms. Silky skin met the roughness of his palm, making him ache deep down between his legs. It shocked him every time that the skin on his penis felt so velvety soft and smooth; it almost felt like the silky material of his mother’s fancy skirt. Gross, man. Shaking off thoughts of his mother, he
felt the hardness, wondering if he could hammer iron nails into wood and not break his penis?

  Aaden revelled in the feel of the leaking pre-cum as he spread it across his fingertips gripping himself tightly. His heart fluttered in his chest at the thoughts of his mother finding his sticky pants. Not overthinking it, he pushed his pants down his legs.

  Memories of the previous night had him pulling off his top, driving it under his pillow out of harm’s way. All the while he muttered to himself about being careful. He swiped his long, tangled hair out of coal-black eyes, searching the cluttered floor and desktop next to his bed for anything he could use to mop up. Spotting his bright yellow skater T-shirt on the floor, he shrugged, bending to retrieve it. Could I pretend I spilt something on it? It has to be better than my pyjamas; they’d be way too obvious, right?

  He needed to think about getting a box of tissues or bog roll if this was going to be a regular thing because he was starting to run out of options, and his mother was getting suspicious of all the dirty washing.

  Aaden’s mind emptied, his hand already reaching for the other head that told him to pay attention to its needs as it bobbed in front of him. Aaden felt a sense of pride at how big his penis was. Most of his friends at school were much smaller than him; having showers after sports let him compare. Not that he was a pervert. He just liked to keep an eye out and make sure the other boys weren’t as big as him. He also wanted to see the differences between those having a circumcised penis; he’d noticed several other boys in his class hadn’t. He didn’t want to admit it to his friends, but he loved the way the flap of skin hid the head, only pushing through when you cleaned it or got hard.

  Aaden tried not to overthink how his penis throbbed harder at his thoughts of his friends’ naked differences. He gripped the base of his penis, wincing when his fingers caught in his pubes. He pushed at the wiry hair, thinking his mother’s waxing kit was all he needed to sort out the bush his body felt he needed at the base of his six-inch flagpole.

  He worried his lower lip, wondering if it was normal for his penis to appear so livid-looking. He’d have to check with his best friend, Kirk. He seemed to have all the answers and also wouldn’t laugh at him since they’d been friends from primary school and talked about everything. Well, nearly everything, he reminded himself. He hadn’t mentioned these weird-arse dreams or the new urges he was getting about long, lithe limbs coated in red hair or lush red lips sucking his penis.

  The minute the thought popped into his head, his hand moved up his penis, words repeating in his mind, “Svass kengr ofan.” Slightly freaking out, his heart bucked in time with his penis, his brain fully able to interpret the words. “Beloved, bend down,” Aaden knew what came after those whispered words in his dreams. The willowy man with bright red hair and sky-blue eyes would kneel, removing the trousers of the other man, taking his penis into his hot, work-roughened palm. Slowly leaning forward, his eyes never leaving the shadowy figure Aaden couldn’t make out. His wet tongue would slide over the top of his penis, licking the head, catching every drop of pre-cum before sliding the aching hardness into the wet, heavenly mouth.

  Aaden chugged in a breath, convinced that it was happening right then. Lush lips were, in fact, sucking him in, making his penis jerk, letting him know what it needed. As he jacked himself with the blistered palm, his body trembled. The rough skin made the satiny skin of his penis hum in pleasure. The bite of pain seemed to add to the devastating fire burning through his veins while he imagined the mouth devouring him.

  His skater T-shirt lay forgotten. His concentration was on the sky-blue eyes that were locked feverishly on him. He scrunched his eyes shut, gritting his teeth to keep the moan inside that was desperate to escape. Hoping he could hold the image in his head for another minute till his body erupted over his abdomen and chest.

  The wet heat shocked him back to reality. Sucking in a breath, he glanced at the other side of the room, letting it out when his brother didn’t stir. Aaden puffed his cheeks out trying to calm himself as he cleaned up.

  The euphoria was not letting him escape the reality of what was happening to him. The images that got him off stood forefront and centre. Shit! I’m gay! Flopping back, he was unable to ignore it any longer. He was gay. I couldn’t be having all these weird-arse dreams about men sucking each other off, night after night, and not be gay, could I?

  He swiped half-heartedly at the mess on his tummy with his forgotten T-shirt. Flinging it on the floor, he dressed before sinking back on the bed, his mind not shutting up. How on earth am I going to tell my parents this? Hey, Mum, Dad, I have been having dreams about being sucked off by a man in some century where they wear clothes that look like Vikings, and on top of that, I think I may be gay.

  His inane thoughts had him burying his flushed face in the cool soft cotton of his pillowcase, hiding. The hysteria bubbled up into his throat, choking him just like the fizzy Tango he drank too fast at tea time, making him burrow deeper. Sliding up the duvet, he tried to blank out his crazy thoughts.

  Kirk had been going on for weeks about a girl in their class, Louisa, ever since her boobs had started to grow. Kirk had become obsessed with wanting to cop a feel, whereas he couldn’t see what the big deal was. Maybe that should have been a clue, girls weren’t my thing or perhaps it was Louisa?

  Aaden ran through all the girls in his year at school, ticking them off one by one, and then considered the seniors. He huffed loudly when he realised he was fighting a losing battle. Slamming his hand over his mouth, he gave Nick a panicked look, checking he hadn’t woken him. It was not the time for Nick’s twenty questions, not when all his freaked-out mind could think was that none of the girls were appealing.

  His mind flipped to some of the recent movies he’d watched, realising the actors were what had drawn his attention. Mercury Rising with Bruce Willis had his spent penis want to vibrate in glee, Deep Impact with Elijah Wood getting the same response, only stronger. His brows drew tighter together. Concentrating hard, he tried to remember who the leading ladies were, only to draw a complete blank. The frustration had him pulling the pillow further down over his head so he could hide the whine that escaped.

  Sagging, Aaden gave up trying to think of the women when other male film actors darted into his head: Viggo Mortensen in A Perfect Murder. His penis, as if it had a will of its own, responded instantly to the picture his mind conjured.

  Buggering hell.

  His arse clenched at what that essentially meant when the thought penetrated, making a wry chuckle escape his dry mouth. Aaden was grateful the pillow had muffled the sound, but he realised he was trying to suffocate himself. He took a breath, shoving the pillow away from his flushed, sweaty face and placed it back under his head. Licking his dry lips, he pouted up at the ceiling when he recognised he was going to have to think about it all at some point, but maybe not right now.

  A soft swishing noise had him jumping in fright, turning to the door. He remembered his mother hadn’t shut it when she’d left after tucking Nick into bed. Nick’s new fear of being closed in the dark made Aaden scoff at him for being such a pussy. The night-light and the partially closed door started because Nick had watched some stupid episode of the X-files, freaking himself out with thoughts of alien abductions that might happen in the middle of the night.

  Distracted, Aaden watched a sizeable white head poke around the door. He grinned at the bicoloured eyes that peered up at him. He made room for Max to jump up. Their routine had been established over the last few months, though Max was late tonight. As he fidgeted with the edge of his Marvel comic PJ top, his eye caught on the discarded dirty T-shirt telling himself it was maybe the best thing Max was late.

  The mattress shifted under Max’s substantial weight as he settled down next to Aaden, making it hard for Aaden to contain the giggle. Who would have thought you could have a cat that was as nearly as big as a dog. His lack of tail was maybe a good thing because that would have only added extra weight Max could ill af
ford to carry.

  He couldn’t believe his dad’s good fortune when he’d found Max in the cat shelter several months earlier. His mum and dad had been talking for a while about getting a pet, and somehow they’d decided that, now they were living in the country on the outskirts of Dartmoor, they suddenly needed a cat of all things. He and Nick had been annoyed. Having talked it over between themselves, they were both set on having a dog. A huge one that would frighten mean old Mr Cartwright who had a habit of spitting when he spoke.

  Had his parents listened? Nope, and now he was grateful they hadn’t. Max was unique, his lack of tail only a part of it. He couldn’t explain why he knew Max was different, he just did. The two different coloured eyes didn’t harm either, making him look more like a big pure white, fierce lion. Aaden had bragged for weeks to his friends after they’d gotten him, thinking that Max belonged solely to him. Staring at him now, he was filled with burgeoning sensations giving him a sense of togetherness that left him centred and more aware of who he was.

  “Come here, boy. I wondered where you had got to,” Aaden whispered into his soft, warm white fur, letting the deep rumble soothe him as he pulled him into his chest. He couldn’t understand how Max could make all his worries seem to float away, but at the moment he wasn’t going to complain.

  Compelled to talk about them with Max, he spoke quietly, “Max, do you think there is anything wrong with being gay?” The quick negative head shake had his arms slacken along with his jaw as he gawped.

  Aaden felt a shaky breath release, heating his suddenly cold lips as the next question came out in a rush of words. “Max, do you know what I’m talking about, understand what I’m saying?”