Chapter Eight #2
“A good pet always does as his masters say?” Marrick asked, his own tone cooling dramatically.
“A good man always thinks of his mate, or mates, first. If you want to play rough with them, that’s your business.
Providing there are no serious injuries, the pride won’t see any reason to interfere.
But, if you become their mate, you will be expected to take your rightful place in the pride—and live up to the standards the pride expects from you. ”
It wasn’t him that Arslan was worried about. Marrick stopped short as he realised that. Forget the whole humans a fragile thing. Arslan was the leader of the pride, and he didn’t want either Luther or Blaine to have their feelings hurt.
A car turned into the drive before Marrick could think of a single thing to say.
Luther and Blaine had obviously exhausted their patience while they cooled their heels in the driveway.
They didn’t wait for the driver to help the guy out of the car.
Within seconds, a terrified looking man was standing on the hearthrug, and two pairs of strong feline hands had abandoned him and were once more wrapped around Marrick’s body instead.
Looking up, Marrick met Arslan’s eyes once more and nodded his understanding before turning to welcome Luther and Blaine properly back to the room.
The time they spent watching the other lions taking their pleasure from the nameless human on the rug passed in a blur for Marrick.
He didn’t say anything; he just lay curled against Luther and Blaine.
Their hands gently stroked over his skin, but they didn’t seem to need anything more from him than to know he was there.
The food came in. Marrick was still lost in his thoughts. The conversations around the fireplace had already started when he finally spoke up.
“You need his blessing, don’t you?”
“Arslan’s blessing?” Blaine asked. “For what?”
Marrick took a deep breath. “You said there was a formal thing.”
“For us to be mates?” Luther asked. “Yes. We’d need his blessing.”
“Then, we should ask for it.”
Luther immediately smiled, so easy in his acceptance of the decision.
Blaine seemed more serious, more cautious. “That’s what you want?”
“Yes.” Marrick was surprised by the certainty in his own voice.
He wanted it so badly he could taste it.
And, if they were truly willing to keep on treating him as if he was something more than a fragile little doll, he knew there was no way he could stop himself grabbing the opportunity to take it. “Yes. I want this.”
“Luther, Blaine…Marrick. Do any of you have anything to say?” Arslan asked, right on cue.
Suddenly, Marrick found himself standing on the hearth rug facing Arslan. Luther and Blaine stood on either side of him, much as they had the first night he’d visited the den.
”We’re ready to make the offering,” Blaine announced.
“You’ll be joining the pride as both their mates?”
To any other ear, Marrick was sure it sounded like Arslan was asking if he was sure he wanted two masters. He knew differently. It was all about joining the pride as far as Arslan was concerned—about Marrick being willing to accept that meant treating his mates well. Marrick nodded.
Arslan continued to stare at him for what felt like a lifetime. Finally, he turned his attention to the lions that flanked him. “You’ll both be responsible for him—both be answerable for anything that might happen to him?”
Out of the corner of his eyes, Marrick saw each man nod in turn.
Arslan finally seemed to reach his decision. “Make your offer.”
Suddenly sure that he should have been briefed on this bit of the proceedings beforehand, Marrick looked to where Ryland knelt at Arslan’s feet, judging him to be the man most likely to give him an answer that made sense. Just say yes or no. The mouthed words eased Marrick’s nerves.
Luther put his hand on his cheek, turning him toward him.
“If you come to us willingly and of your own free will, with no thought for your own gain and only wishing to add to the pride, then you are welcome.”
At least they were starting with an easy question. Marrick opened his lips, but Luther smilingly covered his mouth with a fingertip. He looked past Marrick towards Blaine, and Marrick followed his gaze.
“If you wish to belong to the pride, to take your rightful place in the pride, you are welcome,” Blaine told him.
Marrick didn’t try to speak again; he just held the Blaine’s eyes and let the words seep into his mind, and even more than the words, the emotions that the lion put into them came through loud and clear. He meant them.
“If you come to us without lies or secrets, you are welcome,” Luther said.
Marrick swallowed quickly, trying to look at both men at the same time but only managing to flick his attention back and forth between them.
“If you are who we believe you to be, say that you wish to take your rightful place in the pride, and you will be welcomed,” Blaine said.
For a second, Marrick waited for either of them to speak up, to add something else. It took him a moment to realise that both the lions were ready to hear his answer.
Ryland’s advice came back to him. No need for anything complicated. A yes or a no was all that was required. He could do that. No answer had ever been easier to give.
“Yes.”
Lions were stronger than humans. If Marrick had learnt one thing about them over the last few weeks, it was that.
The knowledge still didn’t stop him being as shocked as hell when Blaine picked him up and tossed him up in the air as if he was as light as a toddler, just for the sheer pleasure of catching him as he fell back into his arms.
“Ceilings. Light fittings,” Arslan reminded them in a long-suffering tone of voice, just as Luther took Marrick directly from Blaine’s arms without ever letting his feet touch the hearthrug.
Luther might have been listening to the leader of their pride. It might have merely been coincidence that meant he decided to spin Marrick around rather than throw him up toward the ceiling, as well.
Luther brought their lips together as they stilled. “Promise,” he demanded into the kiss.
“Promise.”
When Blaine guided him around for another kiss, he whispered the same word against his lips. It might not have been as formal or as fancily phrased as their offer to him, but he couldn’t deny that he meant it just as much.
“I just got…married, didn’t I?”
Ryland nodded as he smiled across at them from his place at Arslan’s side. “Pretty much.”
Marrick took a deep breath and let it out again.
“Okay.” Another deep breath failed to help him wrap his mind around the fact, but he couldn’t ignore the way he felt more at peace than he’d ever believed possible.
It was as if something inside him had registered that he wasn’t going to be separated from Luther and Blaine again, and that made everything okay.
“What happens now?” he asked, eventually.
“Now, you go home,” Arslan said.
Marrick hesitated.
“Pets live with their masters, in their masters’ homes. There’s no need for the three of you to stay here in the guest room any longer,” Arslan added. He didn’t exactly sound heartbroken about him and Ryland having the house to themselves again.
Marrick couldn’t help but laugh. “I guess I should get my things,” he said, his mind spinning in a dozen different directions, possibly not least because Luther still hadn’t got around to putting him entirely back down onto solid ground.
When Marrick made his way back down the stairs, backpack in hand, a few minutes later, the sacrifice and all the other lions who’d visited the house that day were gone.
There weren’t any extended goodbyes. Everything happened so seamlessly.
By the time they’d driven across town, complete with Marrick’s bike bundled into the boot of Luther and Blaine’s car, Marrick still didn’t really know which way was up.
When Blaine stopped the car outside a block of flats, Marrick swallowed.
“You have no regrets?” Luther asked.
Marrick shook his head. “I don’t do regrets.”
“Or fear,” Blaine reminded him.
“The idea is to feel the fear and do it anyway. That’s what makes you feel alive,” Marrick corrected, automatically. He opened the car door and stepped out onto the pavement. Looking up at the building, he definitely felt very, very alive.
By the time they’d reached the lions’ flat, butterflies were bungee jumping in his stomach.
“We’ll make sure you don’t have a chance to feel anything other than completely alive,” Blaine said, sliding his arms around Marrick. He was already hard; the way he pressed himself against Marrick’s back made it very difficult to ignore that fact.
Marrick was pretty sure that one of them should be sensible and practical. Seeing the look in Luther’s eyes, he was equally sure he was the only one who thought so. “Shouldn’t we unpack?” Except he only actually had a backpack’s worth of stuff with him. “Or, um…”
Luther put his hand over Marrick’s lips, not just a fingertip, his whole hand covered Marrick’s mouth, completely silencing him. “We want to mark you properly.” He let Marrick think about that in silence for a few seconds before he took his hand away.
“Properly?” Marrick asked, looking from one lion to the other and back.
“Not just little scratches,” Luther clarified. “Real ones.”
“Where?” Marrick asked, as if that would make any difference to his answer.
Blaine’s fingertips ran down his back. “It will hurt.”
Marrick nodded his understanding.
“Maybe hurt in the way you like things to hurt,” Blaine said. It sounded like he still had reservations, but when Marrick met his eyes, his desire was unmistakable.
“Yes.” It was the only thing Marrick needed to say.
Within minutes, he was naked in the bedroom, face down on the bed with two equally naked lions kneeling on the mattress, studying his back as if it were a blank canvass created especially for them.