Chapter Five
Kefir hesitated just outside the kitchen as he heard the sounds of other lions already in there. He loved his pride, he really did, every one of them—even the very annoying ones. But, in that moment, he wasn’t at all inclined to be surrounded by lions.
Stepping in amongst the other members of his pride would have felt far too much like taking a step back to a reality he wasn’t in any way ready to return to.
He rocked back on his heels as the temptation to rush back up the stairs, snuggle against his pet and hide under the covers almost got the better of him.
But the coffee was in the kitchen, and he’d promised Ellery that he’d fetch him a mug of it.
A lion couldn’t break a promise to his pet.
Kefir took a step closer to the kitchen and nudged the door open a little further.
The voices morphed from a muted hum into something that could be easily heard and understood.
“Something has to be done!”
Kefir frowned as he peeked past the door. Blaine and Luther stood on the far side of the kitchen. A few of the other members of the pride were there, too, lounging against the wooden cabinets and sitting up on the marble countertops.
One didn’t look too sure. “Maybe we should just let Arslan—”
“Maybe you should grow up and stop expecting Arslan to do everything for you,” Blaine snapped, in a fair imitation of the way Marrick so often spoke to his mates. “The man needs to learn how things have to be between lions and humans.”
“Surely—”
“You know what Kefir’s like!” Luther cut in.
Kefir tilted his head to the side, wondering what it was that his friends thought he was like.
Blaine sighed. “You know Ellery will walk all over him if we let him. There’s no way in hell Kefir can turn him from a sacrifice into a real pet, or a sub or whatever the hell humans want to call them.”
“Arslan will freak,” one of the other members of the pride muttered, shuffling trainer clad feet against the tile floor.
“We’re not going to hurt him,” Luther said, firmly. ”Just…give him a nudge in the right direction. He’s as human as all the other sacrifices. He’ll take to submission just as well as all the others, once he’s introduced to it. All we’ll have to do is insist he gets used to it and…”
The words faded away as they all picked up their mugs of tea and coffee and walked out through the patio doors leading to the garden.
A few of them still sounded far from certain about the idea, but Kefir had no doubt that Luther and Blaine would talk them into it—the same way they always did.
The plan they were concocting would go ahead and…
Stepping into the kitchen Kefir looked out over the garden to where the other lions were talking to each other around the patio table, heads bent together as they plotted against Ellery downfall.
A slight frown gathering on his forehead, Kefir poured the coffee on automatic pilot, his mind now completely devoted to other matters.
Ellery wasn’t a sub.
Humans were subs, and Ellery was human, but in some way Kefir wasn’t sure of, the logical math didn’t quite work from that point on. Ellery wasn’t a sub.
Kefir had a vague suspicion that he’d seen that in Ellery from the start. He’d certainly felt it in him the night before, when Ellery had pinned him down against the bed and the world had suddenly morphed into a perfect place that Kefir had never even guessed at the existence of before.
Picking up the coffee mug, Kefir walked slowly back up the stairs towards the bedroom.
With every step he took, more and more of Arslan’s words swirled about inside his head.
Lessons. Reminders. Traditions. Orders. They all collided and ricocheted off each other, but certain things couldn’t be denied.
All human words set aside; lions were masters, humans were pets. Kefir was quietly sure that had to apply to humans who weren’t the least bit submissive, too.
And it was a master’s job to look after his pet and make sure no harm ever came to him. A lion stood between his pet and the world and defended a weaker human from any threat. Kefir had known that for so long, heard it repeated so often, he knew without doubt it was true.
Ellery might have said he didn’t want to be a pet, he might not act the way pets tended to act, but he was Kefir’s human now, and that made him Kefir’s pet.
It made Kefir responsible for him.
Pushing open the bedroom door, Kefir stepped inside. The curtains were open now, and sunlight streamed in. Ellery had propped a pillow up against the headboard, much as he had just before Kefir went down on him the previous night.
The blankets were half pushed back. They didn’t cover a lot. In spite of everything rushing around and colliding inside his mind, the sight of Ellery caused Kefir to harden behind his jeans.
Walking carefully across the room, he handed the mug to Ellery.
“Thank you.”
As much as he wanted to crawl onto the bed, curl up next to his pet and forget about his newfound responsibilities, Kefir forced himself to back away, all the way to the other side of the room.
Ellery glanced at him over the rim of his mug as he sipped the scalding hot liquid.
Kefir frowned slightly as he folded his arms across his bare chest. In a desperate attempt not to take a step toward his pet, he took a step back instead and reversed into a chest of drawers.
Sitting up on top of the sturdy piece of furniture, he brought his bare feet up in front of him and studied his pet from across the room. But Kefir couldn’t keep the image of Ellery sitting comfortably on the bed they’d shared in the front of his mind. Other pictures kept trying to take its place.
Ellery hurt. Ellery being forced to submit to other lions, lions who didn’t understand that wasn’t who Ellery was. The look in Ellery’s eyes as he was surrounded by shifters—every one of them stronger then he was.
Kefir’s claws came out and scratched at his own legs, leaving tears in his jeans. But they were small rips, left by comparatively tiny claws. They would be no match for Luther’s claws or for Blaine’s.
He closed his eyes, but that only made the horrible pictures all the more vivid. His ears joined in the attack. He heard Ellery cry out as he tried to get away, heard him call out for help, only to realise that his master was incapable of helping him.
Kefir forced his eyes open.
The facts of the matter couldn’t be avoided—not while playing ignorant might see his pet get hurt.
“When you’ve finished your coffee, I think it would be best for you to leave,” Kefir said, as politely as possible. Each word was harder to say than the last, but he forced each syllable out regardless.
Ellery raised an eyebrow; his lips twitched into an amused little smile. He didn’t seem the least offended, which Kefir had to consider a good thing. But he half found himself doubting what right words had actually left his own mouth.
Ellery took another sip of his coffee and rested the mug on his thigh as he studied Kefir.
Kefir didn’t know what else to say. Silence reigned until Ellery finally spoke up. “If you’re throwing me out, the civil thing to do is tell me why.” The words were very gently said.
Kefir stared down at the rips in his jeans for a little while. His hands looked just like human hands, now that the claws had been drawn back. They’d be little more use than human hands in a fight with another lion. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay here.”
“Because…” Ellery prompted, obviously not the least impressed with the evasion, for all his tone was still gentle.
“It would be a bad idea for you to join the pride,” Kefir managed. At least, it would with a lion like him as his master. Kefir kept that part of the confession back, not wanting his pet to think any more badly of him than was absolutely necessary.
“Oh?” Ellery calmly continued to drink his coffee.
Kefir met his eyes.
Ellery seemed to see something in him then, something that displeased him a great deal. His spine straightened. His scent changed. He smelled concerned now. “Come here.”
Kefir looked at the bed. If he went too near it or Ellery, he was sure he’d forget why it was a bad idea for his pet to stay there with him. He shook his head.
Ellery’s eyes narrowed. Abandoning his coffee cup onto the bedside table, he stood up. The bed sheet fell away, leaving him completely bare as he crossed the room.
He stopped a foot or two away from Kefir.
“Look up.”
Kefir had no intention of following the order, but somehow, his gaze lifted itself without bothering his brain for permission.
“There are already more than enough brats in your pride; there’s no need for you to try and join their ranks. And you sulking in the corner isn’t going to impress anyone.”
Kefir carefully held Ellery’s gaze. Half his instincts as a lion demanded that he bring himself back together with his mate, that he do whatever it took to make Ellery pleased with him and everything right between them.
But another part of him needed to know that Ellery would be safe and steadfastly refused to become the reason why his pet might get hurt.
And, then, there was a little bit of him that wanted to spring forward, throw himself at Ellery’s chest and have his pet tell him everything was going to be okay.
Paralyzed by indecision, unable to work out what was the best thing to do for his pet, Kefir remained sitting on top of the dresser.
Apparently running out of patience with him, Ellery simply picked him up and put him down so he was standing on the floor in front of the cabinet instead. Kefir looked up at him, eyes opening wide in surprise.
“Tell me what happened when you went downstairs,” Ellery ordered.
He had much the same way about him that Arslan had when he gave orders. It was hard to believe a world existed where his commands weren’t obeyed.
Kefir looked down. They were so close together, there was no floor to be seen between them. All he saw was Ellery’s body.
He was big and strong for a human. That meant nothing among lions.
“I can’t keep you safe if you stay here.” He’d never known it could hurt so much to have to admit such a thing. For the first time in his life, Kefir truly wished he’d been born a larger, stronger shifter, that he was the type of man who other lions would obey without question.
Ellery stared down at him in silence for a long time, his expression impossible to read. “You think that you’re the one who’s supposed to protect me?” he asked, apparently amused and bemused by the idea in equal measure.
Kefir nodded, perfectly serious.
Ellery laughed, and Kefir regained the ability to look him in the eye. Ellery stroked his knuckles along Kefir’s jawline as he smiled down at him, humour still dancing in his expression.
When Kefir didn’t join in with the joke, he seemed to make some effort to adopt a more solemn expression. “Your protection isn’t necessary.”
“Lions are responsible for their pets,” Kefir tried to explain.
Ellery moved his knuckles across to cover Kefir’s lips. Some of his usual gravity came back. “I’m not your pet.”
Kefir moved Ellery’s hand away from his mouth, as politely as possible. Ellery didn’t try to stop him doing that. “Humans who lie with lions are either sacrifices, or pets or mates.”
“Every rule has exceptions.”
Kefir stared up at him, quite sure that the whole point to rules was that there weren’t any exceptions to them. He nibbled at his bottom lip as he tried to find another way to explain it.
“And I can take care of myself.” Ellery turned and walked away, as if him just saying it made it the truth.
If he carried on believing that, he was going to get hurt.
“No, you can’t; not among lions,” Kefir whispered.
Ellery turned back to face him.
“If you stay here, they’ll hurt you. They won’t mean to. They’ll think they’re helping, but…but they’ll hurt you, and I won’t be able to stop them,” Kefir forced himself to say.
“What makes you think they want to hurt me?” Ellery let out a rough half laugh. ”What makes you so sure I’d be the one who got hurt if they tried to?”
He didn’t get it. And the idea of him being hurt was running around and around inside Kefir’s head, making him quietly more frantic by the moment.
He closed his eyes for a second. If there really was only one way to make his pet understand what the real difference between humans and lions was, then so be it.