He paced back to the door.
"Don't go," Sorell pled, nearly stopping Felix in his tracks. "Please don't go. I couldn't live with it if you got hurt." Felix stood with his back to him, his hand on the door about to open it when Sorell spoke again. "It's the least you can do."
Chapter Four
Sorell hated himself for trying to guilt Felix, but if guilt kept him safe, he'd use it, despite the bitter taste it left in his mouth. Felix still stood with his back to him, his shoulders were stiff. He turned and Sorell wanted to flinch from the barely guarded anger in his eyes.
"How do you figure?" Felix asked slowly.
Sorell slumped back down, feeling like an ass. He didn't want to tell Felix why he'd gotten into it with Isaac anymore.
Sorell looked down so that he could see only Felix's shoes. They stepped closer toward him. Felix sunk down on his haunches beside the couch and hooked a finger under Sorell's chin, forcing his gaze up. "How do you figure?" he whispered.
Sorell tried to jerk his chin away but Felix held tight. He looked to the side, focusing on the wood flooring. "It was that kiss," he mumbled. "We didn't even get out of the driveway before he started in on me about that kiss."
"Why?" Felix asked sharply. "You left with him, you chose him."
Sorell closed his eyes and wished he could sink down into the couch. That kiss had shattered his world. It didn't change anything, though. Isaac still threatened his pack and Felix was still straight. If anything, it made it worse for Sorell because now he knew what he was missing. "Isaac is an ass, he isn't dumb. He could tell," he spoke so quietly he was barely audible.
"What could he tell?" Felix asked, so close his breath tickled Sorell's bruised cheek.
Sorell bit his lip and then released it. "How much I liked it."
Felix caught his breath and straightened quickly. He stepped away and for a second Sorell thought he was going to leave but at the last minute he doubled around and approached Sorell until he was nearly beside him before turning back. He paced like that for half a minute, obviously working something out in his head. Probably trying to come up with a way to ask Sorell to leave.
Sorell noticed the way his body moved—sure, lithe motions like a predator in its natural environment. "How much you..." Felix paced again back and forth from the entryway to the couch that Sorell sat on in the living room.
Had he broken the doctor?
Finally, Felix let his jacket slide over his tense shoulders. He hung it up neatly on the coat rack by the door. Sorell looked around Felix's apartment. It looked like a magazine ad, all clean lines with furniture of gray, black, and pewter. Felix's apartment was like a visual representation of the man himself. Organized, controlled, and tidy.
You're the only thing that sticks out, Sorell thought bitterly. He probably looked like such a mess—dirty and bloody, his clothes torn. "I'm sorry for messing up the place," he blurted out.
"What a ridiculous thing to say. You think I expect you to tidy up after nearly collapsing on my door step?"
"You're a pretty neat guy."
"I like order."
Sorell rolled his eyes. "I can tell."
Suddenly, Felix was back down, leaning over, filling up Sorell's personal space. "Roll your eyes at me again and you'll regret it."
Unlike the fear that filled him when Isaac threatened him, Sorell felt a bolt of lust shock his system. Had Felix meant his statement that way? How would Felix make him regret it? Would he push him down on the couch cushions? Slide his dick inside Sorell's mouth and command him to suck? Sorell moaned lightly at the image and then clapped a hand over his mouth, mortified. He was the broken one. Here he was covered in bruises and still fantasizing about being dominated by another man. Though comparing the two wasn't fair or correct. At first, Sorell had thought Isaac would be able to give him that dominance he needed, that pain he sometimes needed to forget all about Felix. What Isaac did was bully him. Sorell couldn't pinpoint when it had turned into that, but he saw it clearly now. What Sorell gravitated toward was different. He liked a confident man, one who would take control over certain aspects of Sorell's life. It was hard to find a man, especially in the shifter world, that didn't just want to control every aspect.
Felix narrowed his gaze down at Sorell's covered mouth. He exhaled and Sorell felt the brush of his breath again. His eyes were dark with intention. "I am so sorry that my actions placed you in harm's way."
Sorell shrugged. "Don't worry ab—" Felix slid a finger over his lips, silencing Sorell's words.
"Do not excuse my part in this. You deserve someone who puts you first, who endeavors to keep you safe at all times." He smelled like mint and his words laved over Sorell's injured skin.
What was he doing trying to let Felix off anyway? This was his bargaining chip to keep Felix safe. "I accept your apology," he said.
"Let it be known, I am staying because you have asked me to."
"Of course." Could he be imagining the tension between them? His wolf advised him that it wasn't imaginary.
Felix stepped away, glancing at the wall clock as he tugged at his earlobe. "I usually go running right about now."
Was it a trick? Did he say he wasn't going to go only to say he was going running?
"You don't trust people easily, do you?" Felix asked, his gaze never wavering.
"I guess not."
"I'm not trying to deceive you, but what I was going to say was that I would just run on the treadmill today. Do you need anything first?"
Sorell blushed. "No, thank you."
Felix nodded and headed in the other direction. A few minutes later, Sorell heard the rhythmic thudding of his tennis shoes on the treadmill track. He'd been so scared at first, had gone into survival mode until Felix had opened his door. Sorell told Felix he'd gone to his house because of Pippen, but the truth was that he hadn't thought. He'd waited for Isaac to pass out and had slipped out, barely enough energy to get him to the curb and into a taxi. He'd acted on autopilot and that instinct had landed him on Felix's door.
If Felix were a shifter, if he were gay, Sorell might think he was his mate. No, he would know he was his mate. So then what was he now? His...fantasy. Sorell felt the weight of his body settle on the couch. He hurt, his ribs especially, but he was warm, and above all, safe.
When he opened his eyes Sorell thought he was still dreaming. Felix stepped out of his bedroom, freshly showered, wearing a pair of worn blue jeans and no shirt. When had the doctor found time to sculpt a body like that? Sorell had known he took care of himself, but he'd never seen Felix shirtless and seeing him now, it was a thing of beauty. How had he hidden those thick, tan arms under a doctor's coat? His broad, chiseled chest still had a light sheen of moisture from the shower. He had the type of body human men worked hours a day for.
"Sorry I woke you. I was just about to make some breakfast. If you're still tired you can lie in my bed and sleep longer? I might be a little too loud in here."
Sorell was sure everything he had said was probably perfectly reasonable, but all his mind heard was, lie in my bed. He realized far too late that Felix was waiting for an answer from him. "No, I uh, I'm fine. I can just lie here."
Felix held out his hand for Sorell to grab. "Go to bed for a bit longer. When you wake up again, breakfast will be ready. Believe me, it is still far too early for sane people to be awake."
"But you're awake," Sorell said even as he stumbled across Felix's floor, with Felix's help, going into his bedroom.
"Exactly," Felix said, helping Sorell under the covers and then winking playfully before turning off the light and shutting the door.
Sorell thought that wink would have kept him up for hours, but Felix had been right. He was so tired he fell right to sleep.
***
"Yeah, he's here," Felix said from the other room. He had to have been on the phone because Sorell didn't hear anyone reply. Felix's voice had been what woke him and he listened intently, but even his shifter hearing wasn't good enou
gh to make out what the person on the phone was saying. "No, you don't have to come over. Finn, I told you, everything is fine. Frannie? Why does Frannie want to—. Yeah. Tell Luke not to come by. He needs to calm down anyway, he can't use his elevated shifter heart rate as an excuse forever. Okay, love you too. Bye."
Sorell's heart hurt at the casual way Felix threw out the L-word. Sure, it was with his brother and may have been more habit than anything else, but Sorell had never had that sort of relationship with anyone in his family. Not his mother and father, certainly not his brother and the only time he said "I love you" to anyone in his old pack was when he was too high or drunk to say his own name and it had just slipped out in a moment of passion.
Sorell grimaced; he was a huge, dysfunctional mess.
"When did you wake up?" Felix asked from the doorway. He'd put on a button-up flannel, but lucky for Sorell, he hadn't buttoned it up.
"Just now," Sorell tried to say, surprised at the sudden flare of pain in his throat.
Felix scowled. "Stay there." He disappeared for a few minutes. Sorell heard movement but did as he was told. Felix came back holding a tray and Sorell scrambled up. He was about to swing his feet off the bed. "Don't move," Felix ordered. "How can you get breakfast in bed if you jump out of bed?"
Sorell obeyed, scooting back and up so that he sat upright on the bed. Felix set the tray down with such a flourish and obvious glee that Sorell was happy he'd stayed. It seemed to please Felix that he was able to give this meal to Sorell, which just made Sorell want to show how good it was. There was a plate with what looked like an eggwhite omelet, one piece of wheat toast and a mug of tea.
"I already put in the honey and lemon, but I tried not to make it too sweet. The toast might be a little difficult because of your throat, but try to take small bites."
"It looks...amazing." Embarrassingly, Sorell nearly teared up.
"Hey," Felix soothed, sitting at the foot of the bed. "If you don't like it I can make something else."
"No, don't change anything. Not a thing."
"Think of it as your third gift," Felix said, smiling. "What's wrong, Sorell?"
"No one's ever made me breakfast in bed before."
"So I'm your first?"
"I guess you could say that."
"I like the sound of that."
Sorell had to have heard him wrong. He searched Felix's face but he had turned away so that Sorell couldn't see him.
"Your food is getting cold," Felix prompted, still turned away.
Sorell picked up the tea. He drank the entire mug feeling like each sip coated his throat. He took an experimental nibble of toast and was surprised to find there was butter on it. Felix seemed more like the health-nut type then the buttered-toast type. Sorell picked up the fork and shoved a huge bite of omelet in his mouth. He chewed and made a face.
"Sorry," Felix said, barely not laughing. "I only had goat cheese."
Sorell took another determined bite.
"I usually just have a smoothie for breakfast," Felix said.
Sorell took another bite.
"You really don't have to eat it all."
But Sorell had already eaten the entire omelet, determined to prove to Felix how much he appreciated the gesture. Besides, the cheese wasn't bad necessarily, just different.
"Well done," Felix said, clearing the tray. He handed Sorell two pills and a glass of water. Sorell swallowed them down without questions. "Those pain pills should help keep the edge off."
Sorell nodded absently.
"Unless," Felix whispered sounding reluctant. "Unless, the pain was a part of all this?"
Sorell looked down at the blanket. Felix wasn't asking him about his preference for pain with his pleasure. He was straight up asking if what Isaac had done to him had been part of some bedroom game. He wished he could cover his entire body with the blanket and never be expected to come back out again.
"No, Felix, I didn't ask for this."
Felix sounded very uncomfortable. "I'm not making any assumptions here. But you say he did this because of that kiss. But you walked away from that kiss and the person who gave it to you. If the tables were turned and I was Isaac and someone had kissed you but you chose me over him—in front of everyone—I don't think I would be that angry."
"I already told you what happened. You don't believe me?"
"I'm not saying that, Sorell. I'm simply trying to get some clarification. You left, you chose him. Why would he be mad about that?"
"As if you were a choice!" Sorell said, but judging from the other man's face, he'd taken it differently than how he'd meant it. His anger rose up, masking the pain. "What are you asking of me?"
"I'm asking why you left," Felix's anger matched his own.
He sat back, losing steam. "I wanted to stay," he said, the words felt big in his mouth.
"Then why did you go?"
***
Felix was an ass for pushing Sorell like this. He knew that Sorell hadn't asked to get his ass kicked and Felix was the worst type of person for acting like he thought that might be a possibility, but he had to know, why. Sorell being here, in his apartment, felt as natural as breathing. How had Sorell walked away from that? From them?
"He's blackmailing me," Sorell said finally.
Felix sat very still, sure he hadn't heard the other man correctly.
"During his time as pack master, he's made some connections. Connections with some very dangerous people. Isaac said he would use those new connections to hurt my pack. To kill my friends. To kill you. He said that if I stayed with him, he wouldn't do anything."
"To anyone but you." Felix hadn't expected to get this angry at anything Sorell said, but he also hadn't expected Sorell to confess to laying himself out on the firing range so that his pack would be safe. For the craziest of moments Felix hated Sorell's pack, the ones not related to him anyway, for letting him be put in a position like this. Then, he hated himself for having even the smallest cause in Sorell's pain. It was unreasonable, Felix knew that, but it didn't stop the feeling. "I should spank your ass for putting yourself in a position like that. Do you really think I am so feeble that I can't protect myself? I may be older than you, but I am not infirm." He moved up, nearer to Sorell, needing to feel that he was safe, that he was here where Felix could protect him. "You aren't so worthless that your safety doesn't also matter. You're important."
Sorell's cheeks reddened and he tried to look away. "I know, okay, this isn't—"
Felix caught his chin, the spots where his fingers touched his face tingled. "Say it, Sorell. You are important." He let go of Sorell's face and waited expectantly. Felix almost gave up because of how uncomfortable Sorell looked, but getting Sorell to admit his worth felt vital.
"I'm important," he said quickly.
Felix smiled. "Good. Next time you'll have to say it like you mean it." Felix calmed. There was a bubbling feeling in his stomach. At first, he'd thought it was nerves from having Sorell here, so close to him and not knowing what that meant. But now, he realized he was wrong. It was happiness. Why had he fought this? From the moment he'd seen Sorell, he'd felt a near overwhelming connection to him. But he'd been so wary of what that connection would mean, what could happen to him if he wasn't there to protect him. He looked at Sorell's bruises, he was sick of using those two words in the same thought. Sorell and bruises. He had failed the younger man so far, but unlike with Kofi and his family, it wasn't too late. He moved forward, gathering Sorell in a tight hug. He didn't say the words out loud, but said them all the same as he sat there silently hugging Sorell. I will protect you.
A few hours later Sorell was still resting and Felix checked the front door again. He checked that the windows were locked. He turned on his computer and tried to do his usual online routine, but his body was too restless. Disgusted with his lack of control, Felix thought about running but stopped when he remembered his promise to Sorell. He heard someone walking down the hallway outside of his apartment. If he took a mome
nt to think about it he would realize how strange it was that his hearing had improved so much. Adrenaline seemed to surge through him nearly constantly, that could account for the sensitive senses.
Felix was at the door when the person knocked. He sniffed and smelled coffee and cocoa butter. Frannie.
He yanked open the door. "What did Finn tell you?"
"Good morning to you, too," Frannie said, leaning to the side in Felix's doorway in leggings, a yellow dress, and a scarf. Her hair was pulled back in a bumpy braid.
Felix suppressed a growl. What was wrong with him? This was his little sister. So why was he acting like she was an opponent? Because she wants to see Sorell. She wants to talk to Sorell. She could convince Sorell to leave. He forced his limbs to swing the door open wide, his legs to step back, so that she could enter his apartment. Frannie was a part of Sorell's pack, if he spoke with her and wanted to go, that was up to the shifter. Felix would not take that choice away from him, despite his crushing need to have Sorell near him where he could be constantly protected.
"Good morning, Frannie. I already spoke with Finn, that's what I meant."
"I know what you meant. I'm here for Sorell," Frannie said, her eyes widened slightly as Felix lurched forward at her words before restraining himself. "As support, I mean," she said slowly and with no small amount of annoyance. Sorell stumbled out of bed and came out of the bedroom. He wore the clothes Felix had given him while his were being washed. His hair was messy and flopped across his forehead making it very clear that he had just rolled out of bed.
Felix studied Frannie's face wondering which conclusions she would jump to. He didn't expect tears to fill her eyes as she took in Sorell's state. Felix found that if he concentrated on the marks on the other man's skin that it made him irrationally angry, so he had started trying to look past them. It had worked, but now, looking at him after seeing Frannie's expression, his anger was renewed.
Wolf's Mate Mpreg Romance Box Set Page 37
