Chapter Seven
Marrick hesitated as he pushed open the front door and stepped into Arslan’s house for the first time in almost a week.
None of the lions ever seemed to worry about security or locking doors, and he’d been pretty much allowed to come and go as he pleased when he’d been staying there.
He doubted the same rules applied now. Just as he was debating how best to announce himself, the door leading into the den’s meeting room swung open.
Arslan stared across the hall at him.
Marrick tried not to look too wary or too exhausted as he pulled his backpack a little more firmly onto his shoulder. “Are Luther and Blaine here?”
“No.”
Marrick swallowed. “No, as in you’re not willing for me to see them or no, as in they aren’t actually in the building.”
“No, as in they’ve been hanging around here, acting even brattier than usual since you left, so I sent them to get the food for tonight’s meeting of the pride. It was that or throttle them both.”
Marrick started breathing again, but he still didn’t dare take another step into Arslan’s house without a clear invitation.
“Go up to your room. Get some rest until they come back.”
Marrick nodded. He felt Arslan tracking him all the way up the stairs. Even after he turned the corner, he could swear he still felt the lion’s gaze following him right up until he closed the bedroom door behind him.
As he collapsed on the huge bed to wait for Luther and Blaine, it felt remarkably like he’d just moved from staring at one ceiling to another—like he’d just exchanged one headache for an even worse one.
He pulled himself off the bed and paced into the bathroom.
There weren’t any kind painkillers in the cabinet over the sink.
On the off chance the main bathroom off the landing might have some, Marrick headed in there.
He hadn’t had reason to enter the room before.
The first thing he noticed was that bath had obviously been designed by the same person who’d built the bed in their room.
It was huge enough to host an orgy and cause a water shortage.
A more important discovery, however, was that there weren’t any painkillers in that bathroom cabinet either.
Bloody typical. Marrick leaned resignedly against the bathroom wall. Very slowly, he let himself slide down to sit the floor. Closing his eyes, he rested his head back against the tiles. All things considered, he was pretty sure he had as much chance of falling asleep there as he did anywhere else.
The edges of his mind drifted toward sleep, but, just like so many times since he’d left Luther and Blaine, sleep merely flirted with him, teasing but never following through.
When the bathroom swung open, Marrick looked up, half dreading and half hoping that Luther and Blaine were back already. But it was Ryland who stepped into the room. He was already reaching for the light to switch it off when he spotted Marrick sitting on the floor.
“You okay?”
Marrick smiled slightly. “Yeah. Just taking a minute.”
Ryland nodded, as if there was nothing strange about finding a grown man slumped on the floor in the bathroom.
“You know something? Last year, I ran three honest-to-God marathons. I even got pretty good times.”
Ryland nodded again, very slowly, obviously not having the least idea what Marrick was talking about. But he sat down on the floor opposite him, leaned against the oversized bath, and listened anyway.
“I work out—a lot. And I do sports. Mountain biking. Obstacle courses. Mountain climbing. I learnt to surf pretty well last summer.”
Ryland nodded again.
“So, all in all, I’m a pretty fit guy, right?”
Another nod.
“But, bloody hell, I need some sleep, too!”
Ryland smiled then, his expression full of sympathy.
Marrick dropped his head back against the wall behind him. He was pretty sure he should be embarrassed about getting caught hiding in the bathroom like a little kid, but he didn’t actually have the energy to care.
“It probably doesn’t help that you couldn’t sleep well between being thrown to them and them finding you in that club either.”
“Yeah.” Marrick frowned then, as he realised that wasn’t something he’d ever intended to admit to.
Ryland stared across the room at him, his eyes full of knowledge. “And, now, you can’t settle properly when you try to sleep on your own. You can’t get comfortable without them. You can’t get warm enough.”
Marrick swallowed his pride and nodded.
Ryland pulled himself to his feet and held his hand out to him. “Come on.”
Marrick let Ryland help him up, but when Marrick started to re-trace his steps toward the guest bedroom he shared with Luther and Blaine, Ryland caught his arm and led him to another door.
“It won’t be the same, but you should be able to rest a little, and they won’t disturb you in here when they get back.”
Marrick looked into the bedroom. “Your room?”
“For the purposes of understanding why Luther and Blaine won’t disturb you as soon as they get home, it’s probably best to think of it as Arslan’s room.”
Marrick managed a chuckle as he stepped inside. “Yeah, that guy really freaks them out.”
Ryland shrugged. “He’s the leader of their pride. They’re expected to follow his commands.”
“Just like you?” Marrick asked.
“Yes.”
The word was so bare, so calm, Marrick couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of Ryland’s apparent certainty.
Sitting down on the edge of the big double bed, Marrick scrubbed his fingers over his eyes “You don’t have to keep me company if there’s something else you—”
Ryland shook his head and lay down on the other side of the bed. “Arslan sent me up to rest.” And, as easily as that, Ryland closed his eyes, obviously not about to do anything other than exactly as Arslan had commanded.
Not seeing any better alternatives, Marrick followed his lead. Laying down, he took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. His usual room wasn’t exactly cold, but it wasn’t as warm as this one either. It felt nice, and Ryland’s presence was soothing in a way he hadn’t expected.
It was over an hour later when Marrick frowned as a sound on the edge of his hearing nudged him out of his slumber. He curled a little more closely against the warm body spooned in front of him.
It wasn’t Luther or Blaine. It wasn’t large enough to be either of them, wasn’t warm enough to be any lion.
Ryland. Marrick was hazily aware that they had moved closer to each other as they’d slept, each searching for the warmth of another person.
Ryland might not have been Luther or Blaine, but he had been right that sleeping next to someone else made it easier to rest properly for at least a little while.
A click of a door handle tried to pull Marrick back to the real world. He closed his eyes a little tighter, wanting to wait for as long as possible before acknowledging that Luther and Blaine had tracked him down and that he couldn’t put off facing them any longer.
A hand caught hold of the back of his shirt collar and yanked him unceremoniously off the bed.
“What the—!” Marrick’s exclamation was cut off very abruptly when he hit the back of the sofa that filled the bedroom’s bay window, knocking the air out of him. Marrick looked up. Where he’d expected to see Luther or Blaine, he found Arslan.
Adrenaline spiked and made Marrick’s mind spin, but on the other side of the room, Ryland just blinked sleepily up at Arslan as if there wasn’t anything the slightest bit awkward or terrifying about the situation.
“Sir?” Ryland frowned slightly as he crawled across and knelt on the edge of the bed. He didn’t reach out to Arslan, but everything about his posture screamed that he completely expected Arslan to reach out to him.
For a full minute, the room balanced on a knife edge, waiting to see what Arslan would do.
Slowly, Arslan stepped forward, to stand directly in front of Ryland. Ryland still didn’t lift a hand to reach for his mate. Instead, he dipped his head, rubbing his forehead against Arslan’s shoulder in the same kind of greeting Marrick had seen the shifters use with each other.
Ryland was kneeling right on the edge of the mattress. Marrick knew it had to feel like he could fall face first off the bed at any second. It was only Ryland’s faith that Arslan would catch him that could let him lean forward into the empty air with that sort of assurance.
Arslan stroked his fingers through Ryland’s hair, very gently. “A lion would be expected to explain what he meant by bringing another man into his mate’s bed.”
“We were resting, sir,” Ryland said.
“He has his own bed.” The words were very controlled.
Ryland lifted his head. For a moment, he moved as if to look over Arslan’s shoulder at him.
Arslan stopped him short. “He’s fine.” It was said with perfect confidence and without ever turning around to glance at him.
Marrick had the distinct feeling that was because Arslan had been very careful to aim him at the sofa when he threw him, very gently all things considered, out of his bed.
It wasn’t just Arslan’s words that were intensely controlled.
Ryland stared up into Arslan’s eyes, without any sign of hesitation or fear. “Once a man gets used to sharing his bed with lions, sleeping alone isn’t easy—especially if things aren’t settled between him and his mates.”
Arslan stared down at Ryland for a few seconds. “You’re good to look after the others in your pride, but there are better ways to do that, pet.”
Ryland nodded his acceptance of the gentle little correction. There was just a flash of something in his eyes, perhaps a trace of doubt over if he had displeased his master.
Arslan dipped his head and pressed a kiss against Ryland’s lips. When he pulled back again, Ryland smiled up at him, obviously at ease with the whole world once more.
Finally, Arslan turned to Marrick.
“I should be getting back to my room,” Marrick suggested.