by Shea Balik
Praying the wolves would be smart enough to leave while they still could, Kirill stepped over his mate, protecting the smaller man with his large frame as he faced the wolves with his teeth bared. If they attacked, he would do whatever it took to keep his mate safe, but with Harper passed out, it would make things more difficult since his mate couldn’t even get out of the way if one of the wolves managed to get past Kirill.
Thankfully, both wolves seemed to think it wiser to leave. Not that he trusted them to stay gone, but, for now, his mate was safe. Shifting, Kirill knelt next to Harper and pulled his little mouse shifter into his arms, cradling him against his body.
“It’s okay, my petal. I’ve got you. You’re safe,” he whispered.
Kirill sent up a silent prayer that nothing had happened to his mate. He would need to go back and get the backpack, which held an extra set of clothes, he’d dropped about a half mile away when he’d sensed the wolves getting close to Harper.
In an effort to not let his mate know Kirill was following him, he’d kept some distance between them. Now he realized his mistake. Harper was too inexperienced in the outdoors to have any clue he was being followed and that distance could have gotten Harper killed. From now on, Kirill would stay closer.
Of course, that might be harder to do since he hadn’t expected to shift so unexpectedly. He’d brought extra clothes, but not shoes. Walking around the forest barefoot wouldn’t be pleasant. But if it meant keeping Harper safe, he’d do it.
A soft groan pulled Kirill from his thoughts back to his mate, who was starting to stir in his arms. Damn, but it felt good to have his mate against him. Too bad it wouldn’t last once Harper was fully awake.
Determined to savor every last moment Harper was in his arms, Kirill pressed kisses to his mate’s head as he continued to murmur reassurances about keeping his sweet petal safe.
“Bear,” Harper murmured.
“It was just me, my petal. I would never hurt you.” Kirill inhaled his mate’s scent deeply, knowing he had mere seconds before Harper woke up and pulled away from him. He steeled himself from what he knew was about to happen, yet it still hurt when Harper’s body went stiff as a board and he scrambled to the other side of the of the fire.
Wide brown eyes stared at him for a moment before darting around the clearing, searching for danger. “It’s okay, Harper. The wolves are gone.”
Harper’s lush pink mouth opened, then closed, to open once more. He did that several times, like a fish out of water, before he forced himself to swallow. When he found his voice, Harper said, “Polar bear.”
There was stark fear in his mate’s sweet eyes. It was like a punch to the gut to know his mate feared his animal. Kirill knew he was big and scary both in human and animal form, but he’d hoped his mate wouldn’t be shaking in fear like he currently was as he kept twisting, afraid something was about to attack them. No. Not something, Kirill’s polar bear.
“Where did it go?” Harper said as he started turning in circles, too afraid to stop in case the bear jumped at them.
“I’m the polar bear,” Kirill reluctantly said. It wasn’t often Kirill was afraid of something, but since meeting Harper, he’d become constantly scared he would do or say something that would drive his mate further from him.
Those brown eyes widened impossibly more for a moment. Kirill was prepared for the worst so when Harper cocked his head to the side and said, “Your animal is stunning.” Kirill was struck dumb.
Harper hitched his right hip out with his right hand on it. “Of course, you could have let me know it was you before giving me a heart attack.” His mate lifted his left arm and waved his left hand in the air as if saying never mind. “But since you saved my life from those wolves, we’ll call it even.”
There were many responses Kirill had been ready for, this hadn’t been one of them. In fact, it was so far from anything he thought his mate would say, Kirill just stood there with his mouth open, staring at Harper as if he’d lost his damned mind.
“Now, I admit you have a lot to be proud of with that impressive cock, but you might want to think about getting some clothes on, or did you plan on walking around naked as the day you were born?” Harper might have been joking, but it was obvious from the way he kept fidgeting, he was uncomfortable. Not that Kirill could blame him. After everything he’d been through, it was a testament to how strong his mate was that he hadn’t run screaming at the sight of a naked man.
“My backpack is about a half mile that way.” He pointed in the direction he’d come. “I didn’t want to leave you alone to get it. I don’t suppose you’d mind going for a short walk?”
Kirill had seen the huge blisters on Harper’s feet. He could only imagine the walk would be just as uncomfortable for Harper as it would be for Kirill without any shoes. But leaving Harper behind, virtually defenseless, wasn’t an option either.
He wasn’t sure what he’d do if his mate refused to go with him, but apparently facing two wolves and a polar bear had been enough for Harper to no longer want to be alone. “Uh, yeah,” Harper said as he nodded his head as if he were only too happy to comply. “Just let me get my boots back on.”
It took Kirill every ounce of control he had to not pick Harper up when he saw his mate wince with each step he took in his bare feet. He doubted Harper’s feet had been used to traversing the ground barefooted. Add to that the blisters that covered his feet and his mate had to be in agony.
He wasn’t sure who let out a bigger sigh when Harper finally sat on the log where his boots had been sitting, him or his mate. Having to watch Harper put those boots on over those swollen blistered feet was more than he could stand. Kirill turned his back on his mate, praying for the strength to not just pick Harper up and carry him back to Miracle.
With each moan of agony and groan of pain, it was become impossible to keep himself still, but finally, Harper stood next to Kirill and said, “I’m ready.”
“Are you sure you can walk?” Now it was Kirill’s turn to cringe when those warm brown eyes turned downright glacial.
“What are you saying? Do you think I’m not man enough to walk?” Harper’s tone and stance warned Kirill to tread carefully.
Kirill held out his hands, hoping to placate his mate. “It’s not that. It’s just, those blisters look extremely painful.”
Harper’s tense shoulders relaxed a fraction, but the doubt in Harper’s gaze said his mate wasn’t sure he was buying Kirill’s excuse. “I’m fine. Now let’s go.”
Not seeing any way to get out of making his mate walk the half mile to his backpack and the half mile back, Kirill set out, hoping to get the trek over with as soon as possible.
At least Harper hadn’t demanded Kirill leave him alone. Considering how terrified his mate had been facing those wolves, it probably was just the fear stopping Harper from sending Kirill away, but Kirill took it as a positive step forward.
Lighter than he had been in days, Kirill thought about spending the night with his mate under the stars, with no walls separating them. With a smile on his face, Kirill was able to ignore the rocks and sticks that scraped his feet as they walked. A little pain was well worth it if he could spend some time with Harper.
CHAPTER 12
Harper was stunned as he walked next to Kirill. For too many years he’d lived in darkness and despair. But now, after facing certain death – which he had believed he’d wanted – everything seemed…well…shinier, newer, brighter.
He was still leery of Kirill, but instead of cringing away, Harper found himself gravitating closer to the man. He may not be ready for the intimacies of mating, but Harper no longer wanted to keep him at arm’s length, either.
Feelings he’d never thought to discern again were surfacing and Harper wasn’t quite sure whether or not he could trust them. Like holding Kirill’s hand. He used to love holding hands with whoever he was dating. Not that he could do it in public since being gay was a death offense in the shifter world. But in private, he enjoye
d the simple touch.
What would it be like to hold Kirill’s hand? He glanced at the man’s massive hands. They were big enough that Harper was sure he could fit both of his hands in one of his mate’s.
The urge to reach out, to touch, to know if those same sensations of contentment, of connection, would be there, was nearly too much to ignore. He started to do just that when images of being held down by cruel hands bombarded him. He started to shake as memories he’d been trying so hard to eradicate from his mind cascaded past the barriers he’d set up in his head. Hands of every shape and color touched, pinched, hit, punched, and violated him in every way possible.
A pained, mournful sound reached his ears but Harper barely recognized the sound as he struggled to get as far away from those hands as possible. A part of him knew they weren’t real, that all he had to do was focus on what was around him, but it was impossible to do. Those memories had sucked him in like quicksand, drowning him in their gritty depths.
“Harper,” a deep voice called to him.
He wasn’t sure why, but Harper gravitated toward the voice, trusting it to help him even though he knew better than to trust anyone. Still, each time he heard his name, the deep voice grew louder as if it were pulling him from pits of hell, which in many ways was exactly where Harper had sunk.
He clung to that voice, fighting his way through the maze of hands that tried to grab ahold of him and pull him back under. But whenever fingers snagged his clothing, that voice would speak and, as if by magic, he was released from the terrifying hold of the past.
Warmth surrounded him, keeping him safe. And that voice was whispering in his ear. “That’s it, my petal. You’re safe. I’ll protect you.”
Harper’s heart was racing so fast he was sure it was about to burst from his chest as he struggled to get rid of the last of the memories. It wasn’t easy. He’d lived in hell for far too long, with too many men thinking he was nothing more than a toy to be played with.
It was ironic really. Harper had been so starved for attention that he’d believe a multitude of lies men had told him to get him into bed. He’d do just about anything for affection. He’d often turn himself into someone he hated just to impress a guy. Now? He cringed when someone tried to touch him.
He’d rather be alone than risk being touched.
“That’s it, my petal. I’ve got you,” Kirill crooned.
It was nice to be treated as if he were cherished instead of some object. He sank further into Kirill’s embrace, needing to feel connected to his mate. “Why do you call me petal?”
It had bothered him that Kirill thought of him as delicate and weak. To him, a petal was fragile. Something to be stepped on and crushed. It might be an apt description considering what had happened to him, but, even though he couldn’t explain why, it was important that his mate didn’t think of him that way.
A finger was placed under his chin and his head tilted back until he was looking into those blue eyes that had fascinated him the first moment he’d seen them. “Because you’re beautiful to your core. You’ve endured so much.” Kirill swallowed audibly before continuing. “Yet, I can still see the strength and beauty that lies within you, valiantly trying to shine.”
Having never received praise, Harper wasn’t quite sure how to react. Something fluttered inside of him. A heat burned its way up his body and into his face. Sure he was blushing like some schoolgirl, Harper started to become aware of his surroundings once more.
Two things stood out most in his mind. One, he was on Kirill’s lap with the man’s big, strong arms surrounding him and instead of scrambling to get away, Harper had actually snuggled closer to his mate. Two, Kirill was naked. And unless Harper was imagining things, he was sitting on his mate’s very hard cock.
Suddenly, his breathing became erratic as panic set in. He might have been fine a moment ago, hell, he’d enjoyed being in his mate’s arms, but now? Well, he couldn’t get away fast enough.
Sweat broke out along his body as he pushed from Kirill’s arms, crawling several feet before collapsing on the ground to still his racing heart. When he saw Kirill start to get up and help him, Harper held out his hand to stop him. “Please, don’t come any closer.”
“I won’t,” Kirill rushed to reassure, even though the desperation to do just that shone from his eyes. It was obvious Kirill was holding himself back from comforting Harper when it was all he wanted to do.
Harper appreciated his mate conceding to his wishes. He knew it couldn’t have been easy. He may not know a lot about mates since his father and brother hadn’t allowed mates to remain together, but he’d heard stories. They had seemed more like a fairytale when he’d been growing up, but he was beginning to understand the power of being mated.
Harper was a prime example. Before Kirill, he would have rather died than have anyone touch him. But now…well, now, he’d sat in his mate’s lap, curling into his mate’s body as if he belonged there. Instead of allowing death to come at the hands of wolves, he’d fought to stay alive.
Maybe fairytales really did come true.
“Are you okay?” Kirill asked.
Finding the question absurd, Harper started laughing. But it wasn’t some light, fun sound. Instead, it was more a hysterical, maniacal sound. “Okay?” he shouted at Kirill, who hadn’t done anything to deserve his anger.
Harper threw his arms out from his sides as if to say “look at me” and yelled, “Do I look okay?” He didn’t give Kirill a chance to answer. “I’m as far from okay as possible. I’m on the opposite end of okay.” He knew he wasn’t making much sense but he no longer cared.
“My own brother handed me over to his guards to be raped, not just once, but every day for five years.” There was a bubble deep within that started filling with the poison that was inside of him. “He laughed as man after man used my body for their pleasure, not caring whether or not I wanted…” he choked on his words as thoughts surfaced of all the torment he’d gone through at the hands of his brother.
“When I bled, they just laughed harder. When I screamed in pain, Abdiel cheered the guard on.” It was that, more than the rape, that had hurt Harper the most. That his own brother was the one who had subjected him to the horrors he’d suffered at the guards’ hands.
“Abdiel can’t hurt you any longer,” Kirill reassured.
But his words didn’t help. Harper wasn’t sure he’d ever truly be free of his brother’s influence, dead or not. “Maybe not physically,” he admitted. “But what if what he did means I can never have sex again?” It worried him. Would Kirill leave him?
At first, it had been what he’d wanted. But that was before he’d faced those wolves and certain death. That changed so much. Harper just wasn’t sure what it all meant.
Kirill’s body leaned forward as if he desperately wanted to pull Harper into his arms, but Harper gave him credit for not actually coming any closer. “I would lay down my life for you, Harper. If this is all we ever have between us, then I count myself lucky for the chance to be your friend.”
“Are we?”
In a gesture Harper found way too endearing, Kirill cocked his head to the side. “Are we what?”
“Friends,” Harper whispered, too afraid of the answer to speak louder.
“Of course.” The matter-of-fact way Kirill said it meant more to Harper than the words themselves.
He’d needed to know Kirill wasn’t in this just for sex, especially since Harper was unsure he’d ever be able to go through with the act ever again. Then again, he’d never thought he would find comfort in a man’s arms and yet he had, with Kirill.
“I’m so confused,” he confessed. It wasn’t something he’d planned admitting, but he just hadn’t been able to keep it buried any longer. “Before meeting you, I prayed to never have to feel the touch of another man for the rest of my life. Yet, here I am yearning to feel your hands on me. I want it so badly, I can hardly breathe.”
Kirill started to move until he heard Harper’
s next words.
“At the same time, just thinking about you touching me has me so terrified that I want to run as far away as I can.” How was he supposed to know what to do when his emotions were all over the place? “My heart races in anticipation and fear. My palms are sweating as I long to touch you, yet am revolted by the thought.”
Surging to his feet, Harper started pacing back and forth in frustration, not even feeling the blisters on his feet any longer. “I don’t know what to do, what to feel, what to think.”
Harper clutched at his chest as the chaotic emotions threatened to explode within him. The bubble that had been building earlier deep in his abdomen rose, getting caught in his throat as he continued to spew more of the poison that was consuming him.
“I hate what Abdiel did to me. I hate those guards for going along with it.” But it went deeper than that. “I hope my father is burning in hell for pitting Abdiel and me against each other,” he screamed into the darkness of the night.
He coughed as the bubble tried to choke him, yet he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. Now that he was finally saying the words, they just kept coming. “But most of all, I hate myself for letting them use me. For being their punching bag to prove their worth.”
The moment the words left him, Harper collapsed to the ground, and Kirill was there, picking him up, holding him, cherishing him, loving him. Then the tears came. Great heaving sobs that left him shaking in his mate’s arms.
Harper didn’t know what their future held, but he knew he wanted his mate in it. He just prayed, one day, he’d find the courage to complete their mating.
CHAPTER 13
With each tear, Kirill’s rage grew. He hadn’t been able to curb himself from holding his mate even though he wasn’t sure Harper actually wanted his touch.
If he could, he’d dig up Harper’s father and brother just so he could kill them with his bare hands for what they did to his sweet mate.
