Ronan (Mate’s Mark #1)

Chapter 16

Ronan

Fourteen hours of sleep later, I’m lying wide awake, my body buzzing and restless to move. The first rays of sun paint the room in a faint orange glow as I roll over, using the dawning light to stare at Cameron. Sound asleep, his face is pushed into the pillow, glasses askew and lips parted.

A paradox, if I ever saw one—a complete enigma. I’m torn between the violent desire to choke some sense into him and the irresistible impulse to map his body with my tongue.

I’ve never met a creature that’s simultaneously so endearing and frustrating.

Asleep, his face is relaxed, his breathing even, with a serenity that contrasts with his usual tense demeanor. He’s only given me fragments of his story; glimpses into a puzzle that’s far from complete. Something in his past haunts him, and it makes me wonder what ghosts cloud his mind.

The irrational insecurity… the blinding fear that I’ll let him down, too.

That I’ll be another person who leaves him .

Unable to help myself, I push his hair from his face, careful to avoid his glasses. A sweet whine escapes his throat as he nuzzles against my touch, and a potent rush of affection builds in my chest.

He needs to sleep, and I have been still for far too long.

Once my bladder is empty and my teeth cleaned, I pull on a pair of leather pants and a thin shirt, raking my fingers through my hair.

A smile tugs at my lips at the memory of Cameron calling me a drama queen. With that in mind, I tie it into a knot on top of my head before I get to work in the kitchen. Boomerang follows me like a shadow until I toss food in her bowl and eating becomes her only concern.

The oven is useless without the solar panels, so I build a small fire outside and cook a pot of rice. While it boils, I busy myself searching the kitchen and find a few jars of honey and maple syrup tucked into a high cabinet. Cameron walks in as I’m chopping dried fruit, adorably rumpled with his messy hair and a crease from the pillow running across his cheek.

“Morning,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes. I took a few minutes to scrub the furniture, so the chair he sinks into is clean, as is the table.

“Good morning.” He glances up at me as I place his bowl in front of him, and I grab his chin, letting my eyes roam his face before I press a kiss on his lips. What’s intended to be a quick peck turns deeper, my fingers digging into his skin as I pour this pent-up desire into it. When we finally separate, his lips are swollen and his breathing is fast.

“Oh,” he whispers as I pull back, still holding his chin, and his eyes are wide. “Wow. ”

“Made you speechless, huh? That’s a hell of a trick.” He scowls as I laugh, dropping another kiss on his head as I scoot his bowl closer, and he finally notices it.

“Shit, that looks amazing.” He shovels a giant bite into his mouth with a moan before narrowing his glare. “Wait,” he says through a mouthful, pausing to swallow as he points his spoon at me. “Did you just cook the rice to stick to my ribs?”

“I haven’t the foggiest idea what you mean.” I put my most innocent smile on my face, but he only rolls his eyes, and we slide into a comfortable silence as we eat breakfast. The quiet ease I feel sitting across from him is unexpected. We aren’t speaking, but there’s no pressure to fill the gaps with meaningless small talk.

After he eats, he’s brighter and more alert, and I push my own empty bowl away with a content sigh. “I want to spend a few days searching this camp.”

“You don’t think the raiders have hit this place by now?”

I shrug, gesturing towards the kitchen pantry. “There was honey in the cabinets and soap in the shower. Either there was so much here that they couldn’t haul it all, or it’s somehow been missed.”

“Scavengers only take what they can carry, which is normally limited to what fits in a couple of bags. It’s possible this was an extremely well-stocked camp that just hasn’t run out of supplies yet.” He waves a hand, gesturing towards the solar panels outside. “I’d like to tinker with the solar, too.”

The self-assured way he says it causes my eyebrow to shoot up. “You have experience with those? ”

“We had them in the community I was raised in. Not the same ones, and it’s been a while, but it can’t hurt to try. The idea of a warm shower is too tempting to not give it a shot.” A giant nostalgic smile spreads over his face, and I’m hit with sudden guilt for the luxuries I’ve had over the years. Never once did I stop to consider others might not have the same.

“Alright, on the condition that I am nearby while you work.” He rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed.

“Last night, you were so dead asleep on that bed that I could’ve killed you and you wouldn’t have even twitched.”

“At least it would’ve been a peaceful way to go.” I gesture at the bandage around my forearm. “Honestly, I feel like I deserve a pass, given my injuries. As the one who sewed me up, you’d think you would remember.”

“Eh, it was kind of forgettable.”

“Funny, you had a very different opinion at the time. What was it you said… that I was bleeding to death?”

“Hmm... doesn’t ring a bell.”

“You seemed pretty concerned.”

He fails to hide his grin as he shakes his head. “Sorry, my memory tends to be a bit selective.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I grumble, and his smile only spreads.

Hours later, we’re covered in a fine layer of desert dust, the silence only broken by the clink of metal as Cameron works on the solar panels. Piles of scavenged objects sit in front of me as I sort the day’s discoveries.

There’s more here than we could ever transport—the food alone could fill the entire van. Dried foods and soaps, medical supplies, clothing, ropes and survival gear, and even a few weapons make up my hoard. No guns, which is disappointing. Plenty of swords and knives, though, and they’ve always served me well.

The best find of the day is the cache of gasoline in the shadowy corner of the garage. The trip to get us here took three-quarters of our tank, and that stress has been a constant nag at the back of my mind. Old gas is a risk, but with a few containers of fuel stabilizer nearby, I’m optimistic.

“We need more room for cargo, so I’m going to remove the bench seats.” My voice is lost in the rhythmic clang of metal on metal, and Cameron is oblivious as he concentrates. Making sure I can still see him from the garage, I get to work.

Boomerang jumps inside the van as soon as the side door slides open, tail thumping and tongue lolling in an excited grin. “Sorry, girl,” I say as I reach to pet her snout. “We aren’t going anywhere today.” She tilts her head at me, refusing to move as I loosen the bolts holding the benches in place. It doesn’t take long for me to remove them, leaving only the two front seats.

First, I load supplies we don’t have an immediate need for. Large bags of rice, grain, and dried beans, plus a backpack full of warmer clothing for when winter hits. Excess weapons—freshly cleaned and sharpened—along with five gallons of potable water.

A small grin plays on my lips as I glance behind me, making sure Cameron is still preoccupied. Honey, maple syrup, and a sealed container of sugar sit in a box that I tuck between the others, covering it with a blanket. One breakfast was all it took to reveal Cameron’s sweet tooth. He moaned and mauled his way through every bite, licking the honey from his fingers.

It was very distracting.

Cameron faces away from me, and I take a moment to watch him as he works. He might think himself good at concealing his emotions, but the raw, burning anger in his eyes last night was enough to cut right through me.

My intention was never to hurt him, although my actions were undeniably selfish. By keeping distance between us, I’m protecting myself. Cameron is a wild bird, vibrant and jumpy, ready to take flight at the first sign of danger.

What happens to me if he flies away?

Coward .

How can I demand his trust if I’m not willing to offer him the same?

Lost in his work, he’s oblivious to my approach, his quiet focus interrupted by my arms wrapping around his waist. He jumps, twisting to glance at me over his shoulder, a surprised expression turning to a scowl as I plant a kiss on his cheek.

Stubborn human can’t decide whether he wants affection or is annoyed by it.

“What are you doing?” he demands, and I laugh at the irritation in his voice. My prickly little porcupine, with his quills out and ready for a fight.

I twist him to face me, pulling him into my lap as I sit on a large wooden crate. He wiggles against me, hands landing on my shoulders as he stares at me, suddenly shy. “I realized I haven’t told you.” His scowl digs deeper as my smile spreads.

“Told me what? ”

“How much I want you.” My hands wrap around his legs as I slide them on either side of my hips.

His lip draws between his teeth as his eyes skirt away. “Last night was stupid. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset with you. This isn’t… you don’t have to do this.”

“Don’t have to do what?”

He makes a vague gesture at where I have him in my lap, hands resting on his thighs. “Coddle me. Give in to my neediness. It’s ridiculous for me to expect you to go through all this trouble for me.”

“Trouble? That’s what you think this is? Maybe I’m doing it for me, Cameron… have you considered that? Maybe it makes me feel better to tell you.” Damp strands of his hair thread between my fingers as I pull his face closer, leaving only an inch between us. “And I do,” I say as his bright blue eyes flicker to mine. “Want you.”

He closes the distance, his lips finding mine with a low groan rumbling in his chest, a sound that whispers in my ear to take more . My hands settle on his waist, encouraging him to roll his hips as he groans again, his body loosening.

The weight of him moving in my lap and the friction of his lean body have my cock thickening in a rush. Moans vibrate on my lips as he glides his tongue against mine, and my hands slide to grip his ass. He gasps into my mouth as I rock up into him, showing him exactly what he’s doing to me.

There’s no finesse to his movements, just pure instinct as he snaps his hips forward with a chorus of the sweetest, most desperate sounds. My fingers knead into the flexing muscles of his ass as he speeds up, whimpering in a way I’m sure he’ll deny later. As I push my hands under his shirt, the warmth of his bare skin is like a brand to my palms, and he whines against my lips as the familiar jolt passes between us.

Labored breaths punch from his lungs as I kiss my way along the line of his jaw, following a path to his long, slender neck. A gentle suck has him pressing into my lap, and I growl against his skin at the friction. My hands inch to the front of his body as I drag my teeth over him in a light scrape. Tense muscles bunch and pull as my fingers drift over his stomach, mapping out every dip and curve as I tiptoe lower.

Cameron springs from my lap like it’s on fire, face flushed and breathing ragged. “It’s… hungry.”

Confusion muddles my mind as the impression of his body heat fades. “Is… it?” I stutter, disoriented, and his eyes drop to where my cock pushes greedily against my pants. He’s not in any better shape, his arousal obvious under his shorts, and I tilt my head as I try to make sense of what happened.

“Um, yes, very. Let me grab us some protein bars.” He turns and darts towards the house, leaving me dumbfounded in his wake.

“Cameron!” I shout, and he hesitates, slowing to a stop but refusing to turn around, his posture rigid. Unsure where his head is, I approach him cautiously. “What did I do wrong now, mo’sziv?”

“Nothing.” He forces fake cheerfulness into the lie, still facing away. “What does that word mean?”

“Explain to me why you’re upset, and I’ll tell you.”

“I’m not upset!” His face reddens as his voice rises, the volume of his protest betraying him. Defiantly, he crosses his arms, his jaw tight. “The solar panels are frustrating me, and my stomach is growling. Let’s eat lunch and I’ll be fine.”

“Nothing else is wrong?”

He twists towards me, offering a smile so plastic and strained it wouldn’t fool a soul on this planet. “That’s all.” I stare at him for a second then nod, letting him get away with his lie.

For now.

“Humans should come with warning labels and care instructions,” I mutter as I trail behind him.

“What was that?”

“Absolutely nothing.” I don’t miss the glare he throws at me before marching into the house.

Once we finish eating and rest for a few minutes, Cameron returns to his usual snarky self, with his sarcastic comments and confident attitude. Something’s wrong, though, and he won’t be pushed into sharing until he’s good and ready.

“What made you join the military?” he asks as he grabs the tools we found in the garage, and it surprises me. Up until now, Cameron hasn’t shown much interest in my life, and I can’t help the tiny flutter of hope that builds from the question. “Was it something you always wanted to do, or was there a terrible job market on the other side?”

I snort a quiet laugh, and he offers me a smile that feels like a truce after our tense morning. “It was all I ever knew,” I say, busying myself by thumbing through supplies, my hands needing to be occupied. “The village where I grew up was peaceful, despite my race being one of warriors. My mother had been a fearsome fighter and died in battle before I could even walk. Father renounced violence and took me in search of a home where we could live without being expected to fight.”

I glance up and he’s watching me intently, the screwdriver in his hand forgotten. “When I was a young man, not even old enough to be out of my father’s house, a group of radicals invaded our village.”

“Your father?” he asks quietly, and I nod.

“He was killed trying to protect the others, but we were outnumbered. The military came and handled the attackers, but it was too late for my people. So many innocents were slaughtered. Commander Bravis was leading the troops and took me under his wing… brought me to base, put me in a group of young recruits my age and trained us to be killers. He claimed his platoon had been tracking the radicals for days and didn’t catch up to them until they were in our village.”

“You don’t sound convinced,” Cameron says, and when I look up, he’s standing closer. He gestures at the crate we were sitting on earlier, and I keep my distance as we sit.

“When he realized he was going to die, Bravis made a few comments that have me second guessing everything.”

“What did he say?” Cameron brushes his pinkie against mine, and I smile at the contact, hooking my finger through his.

“He told me I never had the balls to act unless I was given orders, and that’s the reason he took me at such a young age. He made it sound as if he orchestrated the attack, but I didn’t let him live long enough to ask any more questions. ”

I take a moment to gather my thoughts, and Cameron doesn’t rush me, just waits with his pinkie laced through mine. “What if he molded me into this…” I stare at our joined hands, at the contrast of his golden skin against my darker mauve. Different… literal worlds apart. It accentuates the words that have haunted my mind since Bravis lie dying, rasping them in a last ditch effort to hurt me. “… this, monster ? What if it’s true? What if everything I am today is because he made me this way?”

Cameron is quiet for a long time, but he never pulls his hand from mine. When he finally speaks, it’s slow and thoughtful. “I think he doesn’t get to take credit for who you are, Ronan. You may view yourself as nothing more than a machine he’s crafted, but there’s so much more to you than that.”

“Are you sure about that?” He wiggles closer, forcing me to put my arm around his shoulders as he tucks himself into my side.

“The past couple of weeks have been a lot... like, a lot , a lot... but in that time, you’ve never let me down. Even when I’m being an ass—”

“Is there a time when you aren’t being an ass?” I ask, grunting as he elbows me in the side.

“Way to ruin it, asshole,” he mutters, then sighs as he cuddles into me. “You’ve risked your life more than once for me. On top of that? You’ve been patient… mostly, at least,” he adds as I snicker. “No one has ever paid attention to me like you do… no one has seen me. You brought me soap because you realized I wanted to be clean, and books simply because I was reading that stupid label. And don’t think I didn’t notice that honey you loaded in the van earlier.” When my eyes lower, I find him watching me closely. “Don’t let that man get in your head, Ronan. Whatever he made you believe about yourself? It isn’t true.”

Unexpected emotions clog my throat as I lean forward, hesitating when I get close. “You are so very hard to read, Cameron. I don’t know how to give you what you need, and I’m worried I’ll mess this up before it even starts,” I whisper, and his eyes meet mine as he nods.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m not sure how to give myself what I need, either.” I huff a surprised laugh as he shoots me a pained grin, placing a kiss on my lips before sighing and curling back into my side. “I told you, I’m broken,” he mutters, and my arm draws him tighter.

“Broken things are beautiful too,” I whisper, and he pushes his face into my chest with a soft sniffle. “All those cracks just make you more interesting, Cameron. Perfect things are boring, and you are definitely not that.” His hand lands on the hem of my shirt as he huffs a breathy laugh, shifting the fabric between his thumb and pointer finger.

“You stayed in the military after that?” he asks, returning to our conversation, and I recognize his need to distance himself from the heavy emotions.

“Yes… I was young and impressionable. Where else was I going to go? It took far too long for me to start questioning the orders we were given. Sometimes I wonder…” I trail off, stuck in my head as he wiggles beside me.

“You wonder…?”

“If I could’ve changed something somewhere along the way.”

“Wow…” He stretches the word out with so much sarcasm, my eyes roll up to the sky as I pray for patience. “Big, tough Ronan was going to change the tides of the wo rld. Alter the future of the planet with nothing more than his bare hands and iron will…”

“Enough,” I groan, but of course he isn’t done.

His voice drops, low and dramatic. “Alone, he wanders the earth, single-handedly solving crime and fighting bad guys, kissing babies and catching swooning women, waiting for the day he achieves his status… as… a… god .”

“Alright, you asked for it,” I mutter as I stand, swooping low to throw him over my shoulder as he falls into a fit of laughter. Boomerang bounces around beside us, leaping into the air as she tries to figure out what game we’re playing, and Cameron laughs even louder as I run towards the house.

“What are you doing with me?!” he cries, laughing harder when I swat him in the ass. “You fiend! You mongrel!” I push my fingers into his side as he shrieks, wiggling and squirming as he tries to get loose. “I’m ticklish, you asshole!”

“I know,” I tease as we make it inside and I plop him onto the couch, his face red and his smile magnificent. “We’ve spent the entire day working, and it’s time for you to rest.”

“The solar panels aren’t functioning yet,” he points out, and I shrug.

“There’s always tomorrow, Cam.”

“I like it when you call me that,” he says, voice small, and I preen internally as I pass him his book and a bottle of water. He peers at me over the top of his glasses as he accepts them.

“Relax while I single-handedly make you dinner. Although... there are no babies for me to shower with my affections, so you’ll have to do. Maybe if you’re good, we’ll explore those kisses later.” His earlier reaction replays in my mind, the way he scrambled off my lap like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I hesitate, worrying my bottom lip as I meet his eyes. “Only if that’s what you want.”

“I do,” he rushes to say, his cheeks burning red as he glances away. “Can you just trust me when I say it’s nothing you’ve done?”

“Is this the human’s ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech I’ve heard rumor of?” I ask, but he doesn’t laugh, only stares at the ground as the tips of his ears flush to match his face. I frown, kneeling between his knees and waiting for his eyes to find mine.

“Cam,” I whisper, and his lips attempt a smile that doesn’t fully form. “We’re both learning as we go, and we’ll make mistakes. I hope you know you can talk to me, even if we’re being idiots.”

“Did you just call me an idiot?” he asks, his voice a little shaky, and I smile as I press a soft kiss to his lips.

“It’s not an insult if it’s true.” He laughs, a quiet, breathy one, as I grin.

Some of his stress is gone when he finds my eyes again, and I squeeze his leg, pushing myself to stand when he stops me. “I promise, I’ll tell you. Just… give me some time.”

He could ask me for my heart on a silver platter, and I’d carve it out with my own two hands and serve it to him, even as I lie dying.

Time?

I’ll give him as much of that as he needs.