Chapter 4
Rourke downed another glass of whiskey. It wasn't often he drank. They didn't have money to waste on alcohol. He could most often rustle up a beer but not hard liquor.
He was holed up in the office and had been for hours. This day had not gone as planned.
There was a light tap on the door, then Ulric stepped inside. "Are you gonna hide for long?"
"A lifetime." He poured another glass. Ulric sighed but grabbed a glass from a side table and sat with one chair between them.
Rourke pushed the bottle in his direction and rubbed his chest. The heat in there was growing more insistent by the minute.
Annoyingly so. Several times, he almost rose to go look for Ezra but had poured himself another glass instead.
"The braids show how much you've proven yourself to the clan, and the things in them are gifts as a sign of respect."
Rourke frowned. "So he hasn't proven himself and doesn't have much in ways of respect."
Ulric nodded. "The question is if it's a good thing or a bad thing."
"How do you mean?"
"We hate witches. Do you want your mate to be someone they respect or someone they don't respect?"
Rourke tried to make sense of what he was saying, but his brain wasn't cooperating. "Meaning?"
"They hate us, right? Think we're deviant creatures." Ulric gave him a sharp grin.
"Right."
"Right, so isn't it a good thing your mate isn't someone they respect?"
He might be right. "But it means him being here is an insult."
"Yeah, and judging by how they ignored him when they hightailed it out of here, I think we can kiss any hopes of an alliance goodbye. But, we have a witch now."
"It was all for nothing. I mated a witch for nothing. Tied myself to a man who doesn't want me for the rest of my life." He gulped down a good-sized swallow of whiskey.
Ulric grimaced. "Sorry, man."
He hadn't gone into an arranged mating with the belief he'd fall in love, hell, he'd been prepared for it to be a platonic relationship other than the actual mating, but he'd hoped for...mutual respect.
"You should go to him."
"Why?" He had to force himself not to touch his chest.
"Because I fear he's still standing in the middle of the room staring at the floor." Ulric rubbed his neck and sipped the whiskey. "He's so fucking small. Are all witch males small?"
"The other one wasn't much bigger."
Ulric grimaced. "No, I guess not."
"How did you even--"
Rourke flashed teeth.
"Never mind. I'd have been terrified of harming him."
"He's my mate, so you don't have to worry about it." Why was his voice so growly?
Ulric grinned. "Nope, I won't worry." Then he chuckled, the bastard. "Go to bed, boss. You're on edge, it's late, and it's been one hell of a day." He flattened his palm against the table. "Maybe breathing him in will relieve some of the stress."
"I'm not stressed." He rubbed his chest.
"Of course not."
Ulric emptied his glass, rapped his knuckles on the table, and stood. "Come on now. Tomorrow is a new day."
A day where he'd wake up mated to a witch. He downed the whiskey and stood. Ulric slung his arm over his shoulders. "It'll be okay."
"I doubt it."
"At least we can get information."
He nodded. Information was crucial, and Ezra could give it to them.
Ulric ushered Rourke in the direction of his room before walking back to his own, which was next door.
With a deep breath, Rourke entered. Balancing on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, was Ezra. He was faking sleep, and Rourke was unsure if he should call him on it or not.
He undressed but kept his underwear on, went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth, then he neared the bed.
"Are you sleeping in that?"
There was a small jolt, but Ezra kept his eyes shut and didn't reply.
"At least get rid of the jeans. They're not comfy to sleep in."
Ezra sighed and rolled over on his back. He wouldn't meet Rourke's gaze, but it was okay. Once he'd kicked off his jeans and removed his socks, Rourke tugged at the cover. Ezra rolled out of bed and stood next to it.
"Come on, climb in." Rourke held the covers up.
"We're sleeping in the same bed?"
"Yes." Rourke put some exasperation into the word despite having considered putting Ezra in a room of his own.
"You said we only had to--"
"Sleep. I won't touch you." The heat in his chest radiated to his palms as if urging him to touch, but he ignored it.
Ezra slipped underneath the cover, going back to balancing on the edge of the bed, and Rourke, who normally slept spread eagle, did his best to keep to his side.
* * * *
Ezra stared at the ceiling, waiting for Rourke to wake up.
He wasn't sure if he'd slept at all during the night, but Rourke sure had.
How could he sleep with another person in his bed?
Ezra had never shared a bed with anyone, not since he'd been old enough to sleep on his own at least. He was sure he'd shared a bed with Shixyll at some point.
"What are you thinking about?"
Ezra jerked so hard he almost fell over the edge. "Nothing."
"It sure looked like you were thinking about something."
Shaking his head, Ezra grimaced. Maybe avoiding to answer would annoy Rourke, and then he'd have reason to punish him. "I was thinking about home."
Rourke hummed, rolled out of bed, and headed toward the bathroom without looking at him. "Get dressed."
Ezra dove for his bag and pulled out a black long-sleeved button-down. He quickly pulled off the shirt he'd slept in and pulled the clean one on. He'd wash off later. With a glance at the closed bathroom door, he rapidly switched his underwear for clean ones, then he reached for the jeans.
"Do you need the bathroom before we head out?" Rourke walked into the room, wearing nothing but underwear, and Ezra gulped at the muscled torso. Holy hell, he'd been curled over him, sliding into him. With all his strength, he could've crushed him. But he hadn't. He'd been careful.
He swallowed hard. "Where are we going?"
"Breakfast."
Dumbly, Ezra gestured at the kitchen area of the room.
"You're free to eat here, but you still have to go get whatever you're eating in the dining hall. I don't have any food here. Or you might find some popcorn or a pack of crackers if you're lucky."
Dining hall. Around the others in the pack.
Who all knew he'd been in Rourke's room all night.
He dug into his bag and pulled out one bracelet after the other.
He'd need all the armor he could get if he was to face a pack of monsters.
The bracelets didn't mean much, but they were all he had.
Small tokens Jiprix had given him, most of them in leather with one or a few metal beads. They hardly jingled at all.
Feeling around at the bottom, he searched for the four silver cuff bracelets Jiprix had given him after he'd tended to him the last time he'd been injured. They weren't decorated in any way, but there was a soft clink when he moved his hand.
Rourke watched him with a thoughtful expression. "They mean something?"
"Tokens of appreciation."
He nodded without saying anything else, and Ezra escaped into the bathroom. He eyed the shower. Would Rourke be annoyed with him if he took one? Before he could second-guess himself, he ripped his clothes and bracelets off and stepped into the shower.
Washing in record time, he was soon dressed and out in the room again. He self-consciously fingered his braids he hadn't taken the time to undo before jumping in under the spray. There was nothing he could do about it now.
Rourke raised an eyebrow at him.
"Sorry." He lowered his gaze to the floor.
"It's okay to shower, Ezra. Come on now." He strode toward the door, and Ezra contemplated jumping back into the bathroom, but when Rourke slowed his steps, he moved forward.
"What did you eat yesterday?"
Ezra's stomach growled. "I didn't."
He sensed Rourke looking at him and studied the floor more intently.
"Jesus Christ." There was a rustle as if Rourke ran a hand through his hair, or maybe he rubbed his neck. Ezra followed him out into the corridor.
"There is always food in the kitchen. Everyone grabs what they want. If you've bought something special, you put your name on it, but everything without a name on is free for all."
Ezra didn't have any money, so he wouldn't be buying anything.
When voices reached him, every muscle in his body tensed. He waited for slurs to hail and maybe a few shoves as he trailed into the room after Rourke, but the voices didn't falter for a second.
He chanced a look around and noted three long tables filling the room.
To the right along the short side, there was a kitchen.
Half a wall with a countertop functioned as a room divider between the dining hall and the cooking area.
The scent of bacon was heavy in the air, and Ezra's belly rumbled again.
Rourke steered his steps toward the kitchen, and Ezra followed. There was a woman in there, and Ezra pressed himself against the wall trying not to annoy her. Women were always more vicious.
"There are a few boiled eggs if you want." She spoke to them both and Ezra struggled for something to say. Before he'd found his voice, she'd slipped out into the dining hall.
"Egg?" Rourke held one out to him.
"Thank you." He cradled it in his hands, and Rourke gave him another of those contemplative looks. It made him want to hide.
"Any allergies?"
He shook his head.
"Then grab what you want." He gestured at the counter where there was bread and cheese and some sliced tomatoes. The bacon appeared to be gone already, but it didn't matter.
Rourke piled a mountain of food on a plate and headed out of the room before Ezra had grabbed one. Damn. He made two sandwiches, and when he noticed there was coffee, he looked around to see if someone would get annoyed with him if he had a cup.
* * * *