by Kim Dare
Arslan snarled as he circled Ryland himself, his claws catching at the hearth rug as a human temper mingled with a lion’s instinct to protect his mate, and both demanded to be given free reign. The other lions pressed themselves back into the farthest edges of the room as their understanding of the situation deepened.
A log crackled in the fireplace. Ryland’s gasp called Arslan’s attention back to his mate. Morphing back into his human shape, he stood behind the younger man. He ran entirely human eyes over every inch of Ryland’s naked body. They saw nothing his lion’s sight had missed. The pale skin bore no bruises, no scars.
Taking a deep breath, Arslan filled his lungs with Ryland’s scent, filled his mind with Ryland’s emotions. His pet was tired and anxious, but that seemed to be the worst of it. Ryland was back. He was safe and to all appearances, unharmed by his time away from the pride. Arslan let out the breath as relief flooded though his veins.
“Sir?” the younger man whispered.
Arslan’s relief wasn’t enough to wipe away all the other emotions that burned their way through his mind as he searched and failed to find the other man. “You disappeared.” The accusation hung between them, each word laced with an anger Arslan wasn’t strong enough to keep hidden from his pet.
Ryland swallowed rapidly, but didn’t say anything.
“Speak!” He had to hear the other man speak.
A shocked little noise escaped from between Ryland’s lips. He swallowed and tried again. “I gave the money back.”
Arslan frowned at as much of his lover’s expression as was visible to him. It was impossible to get any real sense of what the younger man was thinking while his eyes were hidden away.
A second’s work on the buckle and he tore the blindfold from Ryland’s eyes. The smaller man blinked up at Arslan, then quickly looked down.
Arslan studied his pet for several long seconds. He was afraid now. Not scared as he had been when the other lions were circling him. His scent made it seem as if he was far more afraid of explaining his actions to his master than he had been of anything else.
“Out. All of you,” Arslan ordered the other lions.
He was vaguely aware of the other men as they slunk out of the room and closed the door softly behind them, but he didn’t break eye contact with Ryland to watch them leave.
“You’re back with your master now, you’re safe,” he reminded his mate.
Ryland didn’t seem to take the reassurance he should have from the statement. Arslan ran his eyes over the younger man’s body once more. Every instinct he possessed told him that the younger man hadn’t been hurt while he was away from his pride, but right then, his instincts didn’t feel like enough—not with a human. The idea that his pet might be hurt and his master was unable to tell clenched around his stomach, and he didn’t even know how to ask the other man for the truth.
Humans weren’t lions. They had to be protected and cherished and kept safe in the center of whichever pride took them in. Acutely aware that he had already failed Ryland on that score once, Arslan’s determination that it should never happen again doubled over and over inside him. It was exacerbated by his sudden uncertainty over how well he could read a human from his scent.
He couldn’t look after his lover the way he should if Ryland was going to disappear. He couldn’t retrieve his pet from whatever trouble he’d got himself into if his pet didn’t provide him with suitable information when the opportunity presented itself.
“Did you know where you were?” Arslan asked.
Ryland hesitated.
Arslan frowned. The answer should have been a formality. The younger man shouldn’t have had to hesitate before letting his master know he couldn’t be blamed for what happened. The frown deepened. “When you left your message, did you know where you were?” he pushed.
The younger man nodded, just once, a movement almost too small to be perceived.
“You didn’t tell your master where to find you,” Arslan tried to keep the anger out of his voice. He wasn’t entirely successful. His hands clenched into fists as his sides. Desperate to reach out to the other man, he felt wary with his pet in a way he’d never be if standing face to face with a feline lover.
Ryland had to clear his throat before he could croak out an answer past his nerves. “I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t alone when I made the calls.”
Arslan’s claws dug into his palms. He’d guessed that he wasn’t alone from the message, and even if he hadn’t, he had no reason to believe Ryland would lie to him. But something about the way Ryland offered the information was wrong. Every instinct Arslan possessed screamed that he wasn’t the only one who thought it sounded like an excuse. Ryland agreed with him.
As he saw the look in the younger man’s eyes, any doubts Arslan might have clung to vanished, leaving behind the complete certainty that Ryland had stayed away from the pride for no other reason than he had chosen to do so.
“It won’t happen again, sir,” Ryland promised, the words tripping over each other as he rushed to get them out.
“It won’t,” Arslan agreed. “Because I have no intention of allowing you out of my sight again.” If Ryland couldn’t be trusted not to wander off on his own and put himself in who knew what sort of danger, he’d be kept close and denied the opportunity to do so.
“Yes, sir.” He sounded as if he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do more than to spend the rest of his life sitting quietly at his master’s side where it would be easier for his lover to keep an eye on him.
Ryland’s shoulders twitched as if he was so eager to reach out to his master, he’d forgotten his wrists were still bound with those cuffs the humans seemed so fond of. Finding himself unable to take his hands from behind his back, the younger man took half a step forward and brought their entire bodies half a step closer together instead. Then he hesitated, as if doubting his welcome.
Arslan lifted his own hand from his side. He unfurled his fist and slid one hand into the younger man’s hair. His other hand followed suit. It stroked along the other man’s back, guiding him to take the last step forward and come properly back to his master.
The professor’s nails tingled and tried to morph into claws as Arslan’s need to mark his territory tried to push all other considerations aside. He closed his eyes and tried to resist the urge, but the instinct to offer Ryland the only sign of possession he had at his disposal was too strong for him to conquer.
His palms slid down Ryland’s back, his claws caught at the younger man’s skin, leaving delicate declarations of protection in their wake.
Ryland gasped. His head dropped back, his eyes fell closed.
As his hands reached the small of Ryland’s back, Arslan forced his nails resume their proper human shape and be content with what he’d already allowed himself to indulge in. He trailed his fingertips over the lines, trying to sooth any discomfort he might have caused the smaller man.
Ryland blinked his eyes open. Their gazes locked. Pleasure sparkled in the younger man’s eyes. Arslan ran his palms over the marks and Ryland’s eyes dropped closed again.
”I missed them, sir.”
Arslan stared down at him.
“When they healed, sir,” Ryland said. “I missed them.”
Arslan nodded his understanding as he traced the scratches on the younger man’s back. Such good instincts for a human. He’d missed them too, knowing they were fading while his lover was away from his side.
Unable to accept even the tiniest distance between them a moment longer, he pulled Ryland closer to his body so bare skin caressed against bare skin from tip to toe.
His pet shook slightly as he relaxed against him, as if some part of him had doubted his master would accept him back into the pride. Arslan buried his face in his hair and inhaled deeply, savoring his mate’s presence. As safe as he undoubtedly was, wrapped within his master’s embrace, the scent of fear still lingered.
“Tell your master what you’re scared of, pet,” Arslan
whispered into his hair.
The younger man was quiet for a long time.
Arslan waited him out, silently begging him to trust his master enough that there would be no hedging and claims that he wasn’t scared at all—that there would be no lies between them.
“Scared that there are some things a man can’t fix,” Ryland said so softly the words were barely audible. “That there are some things a lion can’t forgive.”
“You really thought I’d turn you away?” Pulling back slightly from his lover, Arslan looked down at the younger man’s face.
Ryland didn’t try to meet his gaze. Once more, his instincts seemed to have deserted him.
“You still think that,” Arslan realized.
Ryland’s Adam’s apple bobbed several times as if he was trying to work some moisture into a throat left dry by nerves. “I gave the money back.” The moment he’d forced the words out, he bowed his head to rest on Arslan’s shoulder once more. He snuggled as close to his master as he could get.
The move was so instinctive, so kittenish, Arslan couldn’t help but smile down at the top of his lover’s head. Some part of Ryland obviously trusted him. As wonderful as that knowledge was, it did nothing to help him work out what his pet was trying to tell him.
”Your master can’t forgive you for anything if you’re going to speak in riddles, pet.” He made the words as gentle as he could, but they still sounded loud and harsh next to Ryland’s whispers.
The smaller man nodded, but made no attempt to offer his master any information that he could make sense of.
Taking a few steps back, Arslan sat down on the sofa. Ryland followed, lowering himself to kneel on the floor at his feet as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Arslan’s hand settled in Ryland’s hair and encouraged him to lean forward and rest his head against his leg, to take comfort in their closeness while he fought for his words.
It took more control than the professor expected to be able to push the habits of the lecture hall aside and wait for someone to frame an answer they obviously hadn’t properly prepared in advance. It took more patience than Arslan knew he was capable of to accept that he couldn’t expect Ryland to say things as easily as a lion would.
“I gave the money back,” the younger man told him again.
Arslan waited in silence, stroking his fingers through the other man’s hair.
“The money Kershaw gave me for agreeing to be thrown to the lions, sir,” Ryland finally managed to specify. “I gave it back.”
The words hung in the air between them. Arslan waited for the rest of the story, but that seemed to be it. The professor cautiously felt his way forward, trying very hard to see the situation from a human point of view when all he really wanted to do was give in to his lion side and make everything very simple between them.
“I didn’t know,” Ryland whispered as he finally looked up and met his master’s gaze.
The pain in his eyes stole the breath from Arslan’s lungs.
“It wasn’t until you stood up in front of everyone and said I was better than some cheap whore that I realized you didn’t know he pays men to come here.”
Arslan stared down at him.
“If you come here with no thought of your own gain,” Ryland quoted back to him. He swallowed again. “I gave the money back, sir.”
Arslan studied him carefully. His pet really seemed to believe that any man who’d seen him lie with his lover before the fire could believe he’d been thinking about money rather than his master.
Maybe if he had been a lion, things would have been different. Arslan stroked his fingers through the light blond strands again. If he had been a lion, he could have been held to account for entering into a situation where he could so easily have been hurt. Without the right instincts to sense such danger…
Arslan stared down at him. The advice he had been given so long ago replayed over and over inside his head. Don’t expect too much from a human pet. They might live with lions, they may lay with lions, but they are still pets. Perhaps an instinct toward self-preservation was too much to expect.
Taking a deep breath, Arslan let it out very slowly. “The matter is closed,” he finally said, very simply. “You needn’t worry about it anymore.”
Ryland lifted his head and stole a glance up at him. At first, confusion clouded his gaze. As it cleared, he managed a small smile for his master.
Arslan stroked his fingers through his hair. Ryland leaned closer and pressed a kiss to the nearest bit of his master’s skin available to him, just above his knee. Arslan could practically see the tension and the fear drain away as he realized that, whatever he’d imagined his reaction was going to be, his master wasn’t going to be angry at his pet for making a pet’s mistakes.
“No one expects a human to be a lion,” he reassured him as gently as he knew how.
Ryland frowned slightly. “Sir?”
“No one expects a human to live up to the same standards as a lion, to make the same decisions as a lion,” Arslan explained. “Allowances will be made and—”
“No!”
Ryland scrambled away from him as if he’d raised a hand to strike him. Before Arslan realized what he intended to do, Ryland had dragged himself to his feet. He stumbled a few paces back as if he intended to flee, but when he reached the center of the room, he stopped.
Already on the edge of his seat, ready to spring forward and give chase, Arslan stilled.
“That’s not…” Ryland shook his head, his movements sharp and filled with panic. “I’m not asking you to make allowances for me.”
“You don’t need to ask,” Arslan told him “Humans are not lions. I understand that. So do the others.” He might not like it. He might actually hate it. But he knew it in the way a man could only know something when it had be pushed into his mind every day since he was old enough to understand what the words meant.
Humans weren’t like lions. Pets weren’t like masters. Allowances had to be made.
Ryland closed his eyes so tightly, lights flashed across the inside of his lids. When he opened them again, nothing had changed. He was just as screwed as he’d been from the start, except now there was no hiding from that fact.
Seeing no other alternative, he took a deep breath and forced the words past his lips. “I’ll take it.”
“Ryland?”
His mind spun with so many thoughts, Ryland didn’t even attempt to sort those that should be said out loud from those he should keep locked away inside his head. “If that’s the best I can hope for, I’ll take it, sir.”
“What?”
Ryland glanced at the older man, but his gaze never crept higher than Arslan’s shoulders. He couldn’t bring himself to look the shifter in the eye. He’d been so sure it would work, that the pain of being away from the other man would be worth it because he’d somehow be able to make everything right between them when he came back.
He swallowed down his emotions as best he could, but the disappointment he’d heard in Arslan’s voice stuck in his throat and he choked on it.
A few years ago, in another living room on the other side of the city, he’d have done almost anything to be told that everything would be okay and he’d be tolerated in spite of his proving incapable of living up to the standard of behavior that was expected by those around him.
But right then, standing in the middle of the lions’ den, the realization that tolerance was the best he could hope for made it impossible to believe anything would ever be okay again.
“Ryland?”
“If there’s any sort of offer open, I’ll take it, sir,” Ryland repeated. If the pretty words in the other man’s invitation were ever anything more than pretty words, they obviously weren’t any more. From the way he spoke about humans now, it was hard to believe Arslan could have ever thought any human might prove to be worth keeping on his own merit.
Turning away from the older man, Ryland stepped closer to the fire and stared down in
to the blaze. He heard a movement that could have been Arslan rising from his chair, but he didn’t turn around. Whatever was going to happen between them, it was clear now that it would be nothing like the fantasy he’d spent the last two weeks building inside his head.
“You know, I was going to beg,” he whispered.
“Ryland?”
“When I came here tonight, I was going to beg you to forgive me and give me another chance.” Ryland closed his eyes against the sheer stupidity of it all, at getting his hopes up for no reason.
The air moved. Ryland knew Arslan was standing directly behind him. The professor didn’t say anything. Ryland couldn’t really blame him. There didn’t seem to be much left to say, apart from, perhaps, for him to apologize for his behavior today as well as on his previous visit to the den. Without knowing about all his stupid little hopes, the other man had to think he was insane.
“I’m sorry, sir. I…” There wasn’t a single explanation or excuse he could think of except the one that was actually true. “I thought you meant it.”
“I’ve meant every word I’ve said to you, pet.” Arslan’s hand settled on his shoulder. For the first time Ryland could remember, the older man didn’t sound completely in control of the whole world. Frustration and confusion filled every word. It had obviously never even occurred to the professor that he was capable of aiming for more than another man’s tolerance of his failings.
“You really think that’s what I wanted when I came here tonight?” Ryland asked very softly. “To be told that I’ll never be good enough for you, but that’s okay because you don’t expect any better from me?”
“Don’t put words into my mouth, pet,” Arslan corrected. “I said expect you to be human—no more no less.” There was a touch of anger in the words. Ryland was willing to bet there was far more of it hidden away out of his sight.
Some of his own pain morphed into anger too, and he wasn’t so good at hiding it. “That’s what all humans are in the eyes of lions?” he asked. “Helpless little whores?”
