Chapter 9 #2
Nausea climbed his throat. Was it because he hadn't said the cat was a spy before he'd reached the place in the forest where it had been?
He hadn't been sure until he was close enough to sense the magic.
His eyes burned. Should he have mentioned the possibility before he was sure?
Was the offense big enough to lose a braid over?
He did his best not to make a sound. Everyone would be able to tell how useless he was now.
"How do you remove the metal things?" Rourke's voice was nothing more than a whisper. "Oh, never mind, it came loose." He leaned forward and added one of the spiraled braid rings Jiprix had given him to the pile of bracelets.
Ezra couldn't breathe.
"Aren't they uncomfortable?" Rourke ran the curled hair between his fingertips.
Ezra shook his head, unable to make any sounds.
Rourke started on the next braid, and Ezra almost screamed. Both his braids? His carelessness would cost him both of his braids. Air didn't fit in his lungs anymore.
"I like the rings better than the solid ones. Do they mean different things?"
Ezra shook his head again. They were gifts.
Gifts Rourke was taking away from him. When he ran the hair between his fingers like he had with the first one, Ezra squeezed his eyes shut to keep tears from spilling.
"I'd have told you earlier if I'd been sure, but I didn't want to worry you in case it was an ordinary cat. "
Rourke stilled. Ezra's hair still trapped between his fingers. "What?"
"I didn't mean to displease you."
Silence spread, and Rourke still didn't move. "I'm not sure I understand."
"You took my braids."
He slid his fingers to the end of the strands. "I undid your braids, so you can sleep more comfortably."
Ezra didn't move, didn't so much as breathe. The darkness was thick and unmoving, too heavy to breathe in.
"You can rebraid them tomorrow, right? You did today, added the new bling."
"I'm allowed?"
Rourke huffed. "Do I have a say in how you style your hair?"
Of course, he did. "Yes. You're the clan leader. Your word is law."
Rourke laughed low. "Sweetheart, this is a pack, and do you think Ulric or any of the others would tolerate me expressing an opinion on how they're to wear their hair?
" When Ezra didn't reply--what was he to say?
Rourke sighed. "My word is law when it comes to pack decisions, not when it comes to anyone's appearance.
If you want to braid your hair into a million braids, braid it into a million braids. "
"I don't deserve a million braids."
He believed Rourke nodded behind him. "Since none of us here understand how the braids work, I fear you'll have to reward yourself braids when you deserve them." His large hand tugged at Ezra's arm. "Come on, now. Bedtime."
Reward himself? He would never dare call Rourke insane to his face, but he was if he believed people could reward themselves.
* * * *
Rourke woke, warm and cozy, with his mate in his arms. The sky was rosy outside the windows, and he took a moment to watch Ezra while he slept.
His lower lip was plush, the ring resting against his skin. It was a small ring, no bead or anything. It suited him.
He ran a featherlight finger along his jawline only to still when Ezra made a sound at the back of his throat. He could feel the pulsing of Ezra's cock as it hardened against Rourke's hip. It made him harden as well.
Carefully, he pressed against Ezra. Another sound and Ezra rubbed against him only to still and jerk away. His eyelids flew open, and his dark eyes found Rourke's.
"Morning."
"Ngh."
Rourke chuckled and pulled him closer again, but when Ezra's hand flew to his arm to halt his motion, he stopped. "Did you sleep well?"
Ezra's dark gaze swept over the room then landed on Rourke again.
He ran a hand over Ezra's hip. A handjob between mates would be okay, would it not? Even if Ezra wasn't gay, he could appreciate it, right? Or maybe not.
Trailing his hand in light, barely-there caresses over the arch of his hip and down to his thigh, he then went up again. He watched as Ezra's eyes darkened, took in the way his lips parted on an almost inaudible sigh. Beautiful. A witch, but still beautiful. And he was Rourke's.
He allowed his fingers to slide a little closer to his cock, still with soft, undemanding touches, but by now Rourke's cock was throbbing, and he wanted to pull Ezra close and rut against him. The image of Ezra on all fours made fire erupt in his veins.
Maybe he could offer a blowjob. Everyone liked blowjobs, and Rourke liked giving them. He flicked his gaze to Ezra's, but his eyes were closed, his teeth lightly gripping his lower lip, his chin tilted toward the ceiling. Fuck yeah.
"What do you want?" Rourke's voice wasn't much more than a whisper, but it had Ezra's eyes fly open. He stiffened and pushed at Rourke's arm.
"Vanilla extract."
Rourke stared. Was it code for something? Did witches use different words? Vanilla..."Eh..."
Ezra rolled out of bed and hurried toward the bathroom. "I can make do without, but I'd love some vanilla extract."
Then the bathroom door closed behind him, and soon the shower came on. Rourke slumped on the bed and gave his cock a lazy pump while letting out a growl.
Rourke remained in bed until the water stopped, and when Ezra exited sometime later, he studied his every move. He had one towel wrapped around his hair and one around his hips, the T-shirt he'd slept in back on. Weird. Then he snatched the backpack and went back into the bathroom.
Frowning, Rourke waited for him to emerge.
When he did, he'd brushed his hair and was dressed in a pair of black slim-fitted jeans artfully ripped in various places on the knees and thighs.
Rourke searched for chains and decorative rivets and stuff, but there were none.
Maybe he was wrong, but he suspected Ezra would've liked some chains.
He stilled by the foot of the bed. "Aren't you getting up?"
"I haven't decided yet. I think I'll remain here and watch you do your thing." Rourke grinned at him.
Ezra got a deer-in-the-head-lights look. "Why?"
"Why not?" He scratched his chest, and Ezra's gaze instantly dropped to the motion, then he yanked it away to look out the window. Rourke swallowed a chuckle.
"Aren't you gonna put the bling on?"
"The what?"
"Put your braids in and the bracelets."
Ezra's gaze jumped to his, and Rourke suppressed a grin. Had Ezra been a shifter, he'd most likely been a crow shifter. Attracted by sparkly things.
Carefully, he neared the bed, and with one last glance at Rourke, he sat on the edge. First, he put on the bracelets, split between both wrists today. Yesterday, he'd had them all on his left.
Then he gave Rourke a look over his shoulder and reached for his hair. Rourke pushed up so he was seated behind Ezra and watched his fingers deftly braid the hair. Then he reached for his bag again and brought out a wire thing he hooked around the braid and pulled through the braid bead thing.
"You should unpack."
Ezra jumped at his voice. "What?"
"You have your things in a bag as if you're going somewhere. You're not."
Wide, dark eyes met his. "But maybe you want me out of your space soon."
Rourke's eyebrows climbed his forehead without his permission. "Out of my space?" He shook his head. "What do you know about matings?"
"We'll be mated until I die."
Rourke didn't speak for a couple of seconds. The casual way he said it had unease slither through him. "What makes you think you'll die before I do?"
Ezra huffed, and it was so at odds with how twitchy and nervous he always was, it made Rourke smile.
"You're a shifter. Everyone knows you live for an eternity unless you're killed."
"Yeah?"
Ezra nodded and pulled his braid through another cuff.
"What about mates?"
Ezra narrowed his eyes. "What about them?"
Rourke reached around him, put a hand on his belly, and splayed his fingers, covering most of it. It made Ezra freeze, but he didn't pull away. "How long do mates live?"
"Eh...I was hoping for eighty-five or something."
Rourke nuzzled his throat on the same side as the braids. Reveling in the scent of his mate, the feel of him. The heat in his chest demanded he touch him. "No. You're mine forever, and you're gonna live far longer than eighty-five years."
Ezra leaned away a fraction, not trying to escape, but enough to be able to see Rourke's eyes. "I'm not a shifter. I know shifters live for a long time, but I'm not a shifter."
Rourke nuzzled his cheek, and Ezra made a strangled sound.
"You're tied to me." Rourke was about to brush his lips over Ezra's when there was a knock on the door followed by its opening.
Ezra pushed to get away from him, a flush spreading on his cheeks, but Rourke held him in place with the hand on his abdomen.
He'd have to tell people they couldn't walk in without having been given the go-ahead anymore.
And he had to be better at locking the door.
Geri strode toward them, not so much as blinking at Rourke being in his underwear in bed, more or less hugging Ezra. And why should he? Rourke was with his mate.
When the scent of fear filled his nostrils, he glanced between Ezra and Geri. They'd been fine the night before, hadn't they? Why was he afraid? He tugged Ezra a little closer, which had him try to push his hand away. Rourke huffed.
"I'm heading to the animal shelter now, figured I'd grab some groceries while I'm out." Geri was eying Ezra with a frown, he too must be able to scent the fear emanating from him.
"Didn't you do it last night?" Rourke had believed the cat was taken care of.
"There was no one there when I arrived, so I kept it in the car." He looked at Ezra. "It can't do any magic in the car, right?"
Ezra stared at him, then at Rourke. "Eh...no. It's a normal cat."
"You said it was a familiar." Rourke didn't understand. The cat had smelled of magic.
"It is, but the cat in itself is a normal cat until someone uses it for magic."
Geri nodded as if he understood. Rourke wasn't sure he did, but maybe it made sense, and he was being slow.
"Right, I'm off then. Anything you need?"
"Ezra needs vanilla extract."
Geri frowned then shrugged. "Got it." As he walked out, Ezra stared at Rourke. When the door closed, he opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, and gestured at the door.
"What?" Rourke shouldn't be amused, but this was fun.
"He...eh...saw you."
"As far as I know, I've never been invisible."
"Touch me."
Was it a request or a continuation of the last sentence? "Your wish is my command, but--"
"He saw you touch me." Ezra gestured at the hand he still held on his belly. Didn't witches touch? They had to, they multiplied, and he didn't think anyone got magically pregnant. Though, if anyone could do it, it would be witches.
"You're my mate."
"Yes, and I'm sure they can get over you having touched a man that way once, but he--"
Rourke barked a laugh. He shouldn't since Ezra sounded serious, but there had been many men in his bed through the years. He had to know. Right?
When Ezra only stared at him, he closed the distance between them and brushed his lips over his. The piercing was a little weird, but he could get used to it.
Ezra pushed at him, but Rourke pressed him down on the mattress instead of letting him go. He hovered over him but didn't put any weight on him, and if he had struggled for real, Rourke would've let him go.
"Hey." Rourke cupped his cheek to make sure he was looking at him.
"They're more worried about you being a witch than you being a man.
They're more worried about us mating without knowing each other than you being a witch.
" Maybe. He wasn't sure it was true, but had he fallen in love with a witch, he was sure the pack would've accepted it.
Now he'd tethered his life to a stranger from an enemy group.
"They're more worried about me having tied myself, and therefore the pack, to someone we know nothing about.
It was a price I was willing to pay for peace.
I was sure we could co-exist, we might not like each other, but as adult people, we could work out some sort of understanding.
It would be for the pack's benefit. I would secure their future. "
Ezra's eyes were so wide, Rourke suspected they'd dry out soon.
"After last night's events, I suspect the plan failed."
* * * *