Savage Satisfaction

by Lila Dubois

  William was no fool. Now that he acknowledged that the training was not going well, he intended to seek expert help in developing a new plan, particularly for the falcon.

  That expert was Christoffer.

  He passed the younger man a gin and tonic and settled into one of the armchairs near the window. Christoffer sat across from him. Taking a sip, the wolf looked up in surprise.

  “This is actually good.” He took another sip.

  “It’s made with good gin,” William replied.

  Christoffer looked different in the clothes William had brought him. The shirt hung loose, as William’s shoulders were broader, but the slacks, sitting low on his hips, made him appear slim and elegant, like a male model.

  His hair was darker in its wet state and he’d slicked it behind his ears. His eyes were almost too blue, and seemed to miss nothing. William wondered in a moment of fancy if those startling eyes were the reason Christoffer hid behind his hair.

  “Have you deduced why I brought you here?” William asked.

  “Deduced?” Christoffer smiled. “Why no, double oh seven, I haven’t.” His attempt at a British accent was terrible.

  William chuckled and took a sip before saying, “I seem to have made some mistakes when I planned out my training of both you and the falcon.”

  “Where, specifically, did you get your ideas?” Christoffer asked, leaning forward.

  “That’s not important. What is important is that I create a clear plan, yet my first attempt with Mirela was less than ideal.” William touched his bandage, remembering that he had a follow-up visit to the doctor tomorrow. “And though we have formed a solid and secure bond,” William motioned between them and Christoffer nodded in agreement, “it was not my techniques that made it so. Was it?”

  Christoffer considered that a moment before answering. “No, it wasn’t really. All that ‘change, change back’ stuff was stupid. Putting your hand in my mouth, while I understand it was a trust exercise for you, meant nothing to me. I don’t eat human hands, nor do I plan to. For me it is the fact that you’re my Alpha. You always have been. That first day, out there,” he motioned to the window, “you forced me down, controlled my actions.”

  Christoffer stood and began to pace. “I don’t know how to describe it, but for me that instant did it. From then on you were my Alpha. I tried to fight it, I did, but it is not my nature. I planned to run but I won’t. I won’t leave you.”

  It wasn’t until then that William realized exactly how serious Christoffer was. For the boy this was it, the rest of his life was here, at William’s side. Something inside William shifted.

  You’ll never be alone again. You’ll never be lonely, never be bored.

  William had to look down into his drink to hide what he was feeling.

  Don’t hide it, let the boy know that you will care for him. Remember what he said about an Alpha’s duties to his pack.

  William put down his drink and rose. Christoffer’s face was naked with emotions William didn’t want to see, but forced himself to. He took the younger man’s face in his hands.

  “I will always be here. You are safe with me.”

  There was more he should have said, more Christoffer needed to hear, but in that moment it was all William could give.

  The kiss came naturally. There was no protest of sexual orientation, no knee-jerk shame. This wasn’t about sex, it was about comfort and place. William bought Christoffer’s lips to his. The kiss was dry but full of promise. William opened and closed his lips slowly, massaging Christoffer’s.

  When Christoffer’s tongue touched his lips William broke the kiss, gently so as not to hurt his feelings.

  Christoffer’s eyes were wide and oh so blue.

  William led him to his chair, pressing his shoulder until he sat, then resumed his own seat.

  Things weren’t settled between them but it would do for now.

  “Christoffer, I would like to hear your thoughts on how I should train my Hunting Pair. If you were in my position what would you do?”

  He took a moment to respond. “What would I do? Well… I guess I’d decide who I wanted to train, the human or the animal.”

  William grunted. “Explain.”

  “Well, you put us in cages as human, took us out and expected us to be perfectly behaved as animals. That doesn’t make any sense. If you wanted to train the animal side, then you should have looked into how to train wolves and falcons.”

  “I was doing that.”

  “No, you were trying to control us while demanding our obedience. It is not the same. You don’t train a dog by sticking your hand in its mouth. You train a dog to know its place and then it knows automatically not to bite you.

  “Even when I am human my instincts are those of the wolf. I responded to you because even when I was human you treated me like a wolf, forcing me to expose my neck, physically forcing my submission. You treated me like a wolf—like a member of your pack.”

  William grimaced, frustrated with himself. “But I did not behave that way with Mirela. I wasn’t clear with her.”

  “It was easy with me, we already said that, because I come from a pack, I need and understand submission. With Mirela…” Christoffer stood and began pacing again. It was clear the boy liked to move about, and William felt guilty for having kept him confined.

  “Mirela is closer to her falcon than I am to my wolf. I don’t think Mirela liked her human life. Sounds like her family was strict… Well, I guess that’s obvious considering where she’s from. She was born to be a tribute, nothing more. I came because my sister, who was supposed to come, found a mate. Mirela was always different…apart, and so I think her falcon is the only place she feels happy.”

  “‘I need to fly,’” William repeated.

  “Exactly.” It was clear from the way he spoke about her that Christoffer had spent a fair amount of time talking to her and cared for her. “When she woke up with that collar on…she went crazy. She tried and tried to change. She was slamming her whole body against the bars, trying to hit the collar against them to break it. I’m sorry.” Christoffer turned to him. “I should have said something. I should have told you exactly how dangerous it was to let her out.”

  “If I remember correctly you did warn me.”

  “Not well enough. I was pissed at you.”

  “Understandable. I was a damnable fool.”

  “You’re human, it’s okay.”

  William’s eyebrows rose. He’d never considered that they might pity him for being human. It was they who deserved pity for being unrefined, half animal. Though what would it be like to run through the forest like a wolf?

  “You think I should treat Mirela as a falcon, even when she is human.”

  “Yes. Falcons don’t have packs or Alphas, so it won’t be the same as what you did with me. I think they have mates.”

  William nodded. He had done his research, though little help it had been.

  “She is more animal than human. Train one and the other will fall in line.”

  William considered it. He knew somewhere there was an old manual, very old actually, on falconry. He could ask her to change to a falcon, then train her as he would a hunting bird, forgoing his plans to have her change back and forth.

  He didn’t like that idea. First, he didn’t trust her as an animal. Second, if he’d wanted a hunting bird he could have purchased one. The power of the Hunting Pair was that they were more intelligent than animals.

  “How would you train a woman?” he wondered aloud.

  Christoffer look baffled and shook his head.

  “No,” William agreed. “I don’t think that’s possible. I do not want to train a pure falcon, nor is it possible to train a woman. But…” He rose and refilled his glass, a smile spreading across his face as he warmed to his idea. He turned to Christoffer.

  “What if we use the tools of falcon training on the woman?”

  *

  Mirela crouched, spread her arms and ca
lled her falcon.

  Nothing happened of course.

  Standing, she returned to her cot, flopping down in utter despair. She’d never been so lonely or bored in her life. It had been three days since William took Christoffer away. That was three days of no one to talk to, nothing to do. William still brought her meals, but simply dropped them off and left.

  Each time the door opened she promised herself she would say something, but without Christoffer’s guidance she was frightened, and so never did.

  One event made her think there was some hope for her future with Lord William. The nights were growing colder, and Mirela had spent a miserable evening curled up on her cot, shaking with cold. When he arrived with breakfast the next morning William had taken one look at her and disappeared, only to return with a portable heater, which he plugged in and aimed at her cage. Mirela had since moved her cot to be close to the heat.

  What a fool she’d been to wish for a life of solitude—she hated solitude. A simple room all to herself with a master who occasionally called upon her to fly but otherwise left her alone had been her wish. No more. That existence would be a lonely one, and she was tired of being lonely.

  At the sound of the key she stood, arranging her hair over her breasts and folding her hands over her sex. Christoffer entered first, followed by William. Christoffer appeared happy and he smiled at her. Mirela returned the smile. She was glad he was happy, he was her only friend, but she was jealous too. Had he been allowed to call his wolf and run? Had he spent time in William’s bed?

  “Good morning,” Christoffer said.

  “Good morning. Are you okay?” she asked him.

  He laughed. “I’m fine. You don’t need to defend me.”

  Mirela blushed and ducked her head. Christoffer’s loyalty was to William not to her.

  “Mirela, look up,” William ordered.

  She raised her chin and met his eyes. Obedience, she reminded herself.

  “It is time to begin your training,” William said.

  Her heart leapt and she nodded eagerly. “Thank you, my lord.”

  His face was stern. “I doubt you will like what is to come, at least not at first.”

  “I’m here to serve, my lord,” she replied.

  William unlocked her cage and, for the first time in ten days, Mirela stepped out. The urge to flee, to run for the door and take to the sky, was nearly overwhelming. Mirela curled her arms around her belly and fought to remain still and calm. She couldn’t fly away, she reminded herself. She still wore the hated collar.

  Take the key, free yourself. Fly away. The sky is calling.

  Her eyes went to the chain around William’s neck. The token that opened the collar was on that chain, hidden now under his shirt. She was strong, even as a human. She could take it.

  Christoffer stepped between her and William, blocking her view. His arms were raised and curled forward, his knees bent. He was ready to fight her if she tried anything. The challenge brought her falcon to the surface. Mirela narrowed her eyes and hissed. Christoffer pulled back his teeth and snarled.

  She lunged to the right, trying to go around Christoffer. He caught her easily, spinning her in his arms so she was pressed to his chest, her face against his neck.

  “Calm down. I know you want to fly, but you have to earn it. You will fly, you will fly again, but you need to earn it. Mirela, push the falcon down, listen to your human self. Calm down.”

  Christoffer’s soft monologue calmed her. The desperate need to flee ebbed and she relaxed in his grip, resting her cheek on his chest.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ve been locked up so long.” Tears stung her eyes.

  “Jesus,” William muttered, and then his large hand was on her back. Christoffer gripped her hips, still holding her but leaving her back bare so William could stroke her.

  Mirela stiffened at his first touch, then relaxed.

  “You’re not going back in the cage, not as long as you behave.” William’s words were as gentle as his touch.

  “Truly?” Mirela asked, heart leaping with joy. She turned her face so she could see William and he smiled softly down at her. She liked the creases at the corners of his eyes and the gray strands sprinkled throughout his hair.

  “Truly,” he said. There was sadness in his eyes.

  Still clinging to Christoffer, she reached out with one hand and touched the bandage on his face. “I’m sorry.”

  William nodded, then looked at Christoffer. The wolf stepped away from her and grabbed something from the bag at his feet. He pulled out a robe and a pair of trainers—one of the pairs from her trunk.

  She had a million questions to ask but, after a look at Christoffer, stayed silent. She shrugged on the robe and belted it closed. She was so used to being naked it was odd to have fabric against her skin.

  She slid on her trainers over bare feet and tied the laces.

  Once she was dressed, Christoffer pulled one more thing out of the bag and handed it to William. It was a long scarf and Mirela began to sweat with nerves. Was that to tie her up?

  “Come here,” he ordered.

  Mirela nervously moved to stand before William. He raised the scarf and pressed it over her eyes. A blindfold.

  He tied it in place, then fussed with the cloth until it completely covered her eyes.

  He took her hand then and Mirela jumped slightly.

  “Don’t be afraid,” William said. “Trust me.”

  When they stepped out into the daylight—Mirela felt the warmth on her face and legs—she ached with the need to look at the sky. Her free hand twitched toward the blindfold but it was captured by slim, calloused fingers.

  “No,” Christoffer admonished her.

  Mirela had to settle for tipping her head back as they walked so the sunlight soaked into her skin.

  She shriveled in disappointment when the men led her indoors once more. They crossed squeaky hard floors and quiet carpet, went upstairs and through several more doors.

  When they stopped Mirela decided they must be in the house they’d eaten in on the first day. The robe and shoes were stripped from her, leaving her naked.

  Finally the blindfold was removed. The first thing she saw was William’s smiling face.

  “Now we begin.”

  Chapter Eight

  The room was sparsely furnished with a bed and one chair, though paintings hung on the walls, which were covered in elegant striped paper. There were blue Oriental rugs on the hardwood floor and gold drapes on the windows.

  The windows.

  Forgetting herself, Mirela ran to the windows. Though they looked out over the beauty of the formal garden Mirela’s gaze was on the sky, not the land. It was a bright day, with only high wispy clouds. It was a good day for flying.

  Her fingertips pressed against the glass until they were white. That same panicked need to flee began to bubble up inside her.

  William grabbed her, turning her away from the window. She glared at him, but under his steady regard was able to calm herself. She bowed her head.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I know this is hard for you. I understand that now.”

  He led her away from the windows, back to the center of the room. Behind her, a door opened and Christoffer, holding a wooden box, moved to stand beside William.

  Christoffer set the box at the lord’s feet and stepped back.

  William took Mirela’s chin in his hand. “I have done a poor job training you, but that changes now. My family has a long history of falconry.” His eyes crinkled with a smile. “My library contains several books on how to train a falcon.”

  She was not a wild bird to be trained. She was able to read his commands from his lips, so there was no need to teach her to respond to whistles or come to a pomander whirled on a string.

  “But what I have here,” he murmured, stroking the line of her jaw with his thumb, “is more than just a falcon. I have a woman with the heart of a falcon, who so loves the sky that she ha
d trouble being obedient.”

  Mirela let her gaze slide from his, embarrassed.

  “But,” he continued, “it is not the nature of the falcon to obey a master, as it is with the wolf. My failure was in understanding that. So now I will teach you to obey me, teach you as I would a falcon.”

  “You wish me to change?” she asked, heart leaping.

  “Yes, but not today. I will train my falcon while she remains a woman.” He released her chin and knelt beside the box Christoffer had brought in. She looked at the wolf in confusion, but Christoffer did not meet her gaze. He stood with his hands behind his back, feet braced apart, gaze on the far wall.

  “Long ago,” William said, rising, “falcons were trained to come to the whistle of their lord. The birds were prized above all, eating in the great hall and hunting from their lord’s wrist.

  “The birds had to learn to recognize and trust their lord, and the lord did that by keeping the falcon hooded and in shadow. The bird was fed from the lord’s hand. The lord breathed upon the falcon so it knew his scent.” William circled her as he spoke, his fingers on her belly, hip and back.

  “This is how I will train you,” he whispered, breath washing over her face.

  Mirela’s thighs ached with longing and her heart beat fast. His words aroused her, scared her.

  William held up the thing he’d taken from the box. He posed it on his fist so she could understand what it was.

  The mask was made of hard leather and once on would cover her face from hairline to upper cheek. The molded nose came to a point, like a falcon’s beak. Three straps led from the mask, one straight back from the top, the others from the side. Small chains dangled from the side straps.

  Mirela fell back a step. “I will wear that?”

  “Yes.”

  “But I won’t be able to see.” Her gaze went to the windows.

  “Christoffer, close the shutters,” William said.

  Mirela whimpered slightly as Christoffer pulled wood shutters in place over the windows. He latched them with shiny new locks.

  When the last window was closed, the only light came from a single lamp near the door. The twilight atmosphere made the room seem smaller, more intimate. Mirela looked to William.