Chapter Seven
Franklin’s pacing brought him to the wall in the living room. Spinning around, he retraced his steps for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. “What going on in there?”
“They’re being lions,” Ellery said from his post just to the right of the door.
Franklin glared at him as he made his way back across the room. There was no way he’d be able to get past him if he tried to physically force his way out of the room, and Ellery wasn’t an easy man to bargain with or manipulate.
As he leaned back against the wall, Ellery folded his arms across his chest. He didn’t look like he loved the idea of leaving Kefir alone with his feline compatriots either, but he also had the look of a man who was going to do the right thing, however much he hated it.
And the look of a man who thought the right thing for him to do was keep the other humans in that room until the lions had finished doing whatever the hell it was they were doing in the meeting room.
Not for the first time that evening, a roar filled the air.
Practicalities forgotten about, Franklin stormed toward the door. Fear raced down his spine faster with each step and nothing mattered but getting to Cameron.
“He’ll be fine; he’s just letting off steam,” Ryland said, as he stepped between Franklin and the door and, perhaps not entirely by coincidence, between Franklin and Ellery at the same time.
“If Arslan—”
“That wasn’t Arslan’s roar.” Ryland cut in. “I know what my master sounds like—and I know the roar of every other lion in this pride, too. Cameron is the one doing all the shouting in there.”
Franklin spun away from him. His new pacing route took him toward Marrick. He was by far the most relaxed of all the men present.
Right then, anyone not being on the verge of a complete meltdown made Franklin’s blood boil. “You really don’t give a damn, do you?” he demanded.
Marrick smiled slightly. “If I had a panic attack every time one of my mates got some stupid feline idea into their head, I’d have driven myself crazy by the end of the first week.
Luther and Blaine can take care of themselves.
” He shrugged then. “Either they’ll get their own way, in which case they’ll be excited as hell and ready to celebrate by screwing me senseless when they come back.
Or they won’t get their own way, in which case they’ll want to pout and play at being hardcore doms and screw me senseless when they come back. I’m going to get laid, either way.”
Franklin twisted away from him in disgust, wishing like hell the only thing he had to worry about was sex.
Finally, footsteps were heard crossing the hall. Ellery quickly opened the door.
Luther and Blaine strode into the room, heading straight for Marrick. It was impossible to tell if they were celebrating or trying to prove that there was someone they could get their own way with—even if it was only Marrick.
“What happened?” Franklin demanded.
Luther looked up. “Everything’s fine. The meeting’s finished. Cameron stayed behind to speak to Arslan.”
“And Kefir?” Ellery demanded.
Blaine looked around, as if he expected to see the little lion hiding in one of the corners.
Ellery didn’t wait for him to speak again. He strode out of the room without a word. Not knowing what else to do, Franklin found himself trailing behind him.
After more than an hour spent desperate to see Cameron, now that it was time to do that, he could barely make his feet take a step in that direction.
Ellery was halfway across the hall, heading straight for the meeting room, when a voice called out from the landing at the top of the stairs.
“I’m here, sir,” Kefir said, as he hurried lightly down the stairs to stand directly in front of Ellery.
“And the reason you didn’t come directly to your master?” Ellery demanded.
Kefir looked down at his jeans and t-shirt. “I went upstairs to get dressed first, sir.”
“Why?”
As Franklin watched from the a few yards away, the little lion dropped his gaze to the floor somewhere off to his left.
Within a second, Ellery’s knuckles were under Kefir’s chin, insisting that he look up and meet his master’s eyes.
“I was being a lion, sir,” Kefir told him, with just a tiny bit of stubbornness in his tone.
“Kefir…”
Franklin heard the warning in Ellery’s tone loud and clear, but Kefir didn’t appear to be the least bit afraid of his mate.
“Tell me what are you hiding from me?” Ellery pushed.
Kefir’s fingers went to the hem of his t-shirt, only to hesitate on the edge of the thin cotton.
Ellery took over, pulling the material up, exposing the boy’s torso. Vivid red claw marks stretched from one side of his body to the other. They weren’t bleeding, but it was hard to imagine that they hadn’t been just moments earlier.
“Cameron did that?” Ellery demanded.
“He lashed out at a lion,” Kefir quickly reminded him. “He didn’t even know it was me—he wasn’t trying to hurt me.”
“And you think that makes this acceptable?” Ellery bit out, guiding Kefir back to sit on the hall chair as Ellery crouched down in front of him.
Franklin felt the blood drain out of his face as he studied the deep scratches. He’d seen how protective they all were of the little lion. It wasn’t hard to imagine what they’d be capable of doing to Cameron in revenge for hurting Kefir like that.
He stepped forward. “Cameron…?” he asked.
Ellery’s attention remained on the claw marks that decorated his mate’s body, but Kefir looked up and met Franklin’s eyes. “He’s fine,” he promised.
Franklin looked to the door leading into the meeting room, then to where Ellery was still crouched down in front of Kefir’s chair. Even from several feet away, he could feel the fury rolling off the dominant.
“It wasn’t Cameron’s fault,” Franklin blurted out.
Ellery spared him one brief glance, but he went back to exploring the marks on Kefir’s stomach without saying a word.
“He has every right to be angry for the way he was treated in the clubs,” Franklin pushed on. “If anyone should be punished for him lashing out at Kefir like that, it’s me, not Cameron. It was men like me who hurt him, who made him need to lash out.”
Ellery didn’t even glance up at him that time. He merely continued to glare at the deep gouges as if he might be able to heal them by the sheer intensity of his anger and concern.
He didn’t look away from the wounds until Kefir touched his cheek and gently requested that his master meet his gaze.
“We’ll speak about you trying to hide this from me later,” Ellery warned.
Franklin folded his arms across his chest, sure he wouldn’t want to be the man on the other end of that discussion, but Kefir just calmly nodded his understanding. “And Cameron, sir?” he prompted.
“You’re sure he didn’t know who he was clawing at?” Ellery said.
”Yes, sir.”
Ellery held Kefir’s gaze for a long time.
Franklin held his breath as he waited for the dominant’s verdict.
“I won’t throttle him this once—because you’re the one asking me not to do that. But there’ll be no second chances for him, and if I don’t think you’ve made that clear enough to him, I’ll see to it that he understands myself.”
Kefir smiled. He seemed to trust his master was telling the truth and wouldn’t go back on his decision. When Ellery stroked his cheek, Kefir turned his face into his master’s hand to kiss and lap at the palm as if everything was once more perfect in his world.
Franklin remembered how to breathe again. Cameron was apparently safe, from one threat, at least.
“Why don’t we all move into the sitting room?” Ryland suggested. “They won’t finish their conversation any quicker just because we’re all lurking in the hall.
As Ryland shepherded the others out of the hall, Franklin allowed himself to be scooped up with them, but he couldn’t lounge on the big sofas the way the others did, couldn’t ignore the fact that Cameron wasn’t there sitting next to him.
Ryland was the only other guy who didn’t have someone to curl up with, but as he seemed content to busy himself handing out the food that hadn’t been brought into the meeting room when it usually would have been, he didn’t seem to miss his master’s presence right then.
Franklin had nothing to distract him. All he could do was stare at the door, until it finally swung open. He immediately launched himself to his feet, only to find himself frozen to the spot, unable to rush across the room and throw himself at Cameron the way he wanted to.
Arslan stepped back and allowed Cameron to walk in first.
Quickly running his gaze over Cameron’s body, Franklin checked for any sign of injury.
There wasn’t a single mark on his skin. He was as perfect as ever.
Some of Franklin’s panic eased with that knowledge, until he lifted his gaze and met Cameron’s eyes.
There was something different in his expression, something unreadable.
Franklin stood very still as Cameron stepped forward and closed the gap between them. Cameron stopped a foot away from him; he didn’t reach out to touch him.
Franklin could hardly blame Cameron for not wanting anything to do with him. He’d have walked away from himself if he could have.
Finally, Cameron waved a hand and indicated one end of the sofa. Franklin’s knees failed beneath him. His backside met the sofa cushion. Cameron lowered himself gracefully to the seat next to him, casually pulling one leg up onto the sofa in front of him. Neither of them said a word.
Franklin swallowed rapidly as he realised Cameron couldn’t even seem to bear to look at him.
The lion’s attention went to every man in the room bar him, to every person present, except the one who loved him more than he’d ever believed possible.
*
It all looked so bloody easy…
As Cameron stared across the room and watched the way Arslan gathered Ryland close to him, his arms easily wrapping themselves around a smaller man’s more fragile frame, protecting him and welcoming him back to his side after being away from him for even such a short time, it looked so simple.