Coaxing His Skittish Lynx

by Charlie Richards

  Feeling the blood drain from his face, Roland knew he paled. His heart seemed to skip a beat and he struggled to get enough air in his lungs. His mate? He couldn’t have a mate. Not anymore. “No,” he whimpered. “No, no, no, no.” Roland rolled to his side and curled into a fetal position as despair filled him.

  Chapter Two

  Tobias couldn’t help it. His eyes widened in shock. Was his mate rejecting him? Taking in the male’s dark hair, pale skin, and sunken form, he knew the young shifter—hell, Roland didn’t appear much more than nineteen—would need some time to recuperate. Tobias knew Roland had been held as an animal for many years, but surely he understood the importance of finding one’s mate.

  Then, his mate’s scent hit him. Fear. Hopelessness. Anguish.

  What the fuck?

  “I won’t make that bad a mate,” he growled, planting his fists on his hips, offended beyond anything he remembered feeling before.

  Vane’s wide red-eyed and open mouthed expression told of his own shock. He rested his hand on Roland’s shoulder. “Roland?”

  Jealousy ripped through Tobias’ system, hard and fast. It’d been bad enough to walk in and see another man holding and comforting his naked mate. There was no way in hell he’d allow that to happen again.

  “Don’t touch him,” he snarled.

  Tobias dropped to his knees and swiped at Vane’s hand, shoving it away. Then, he paused as he took in his clearly traumatized mate. Damn, he really should have broached this in a better way, but Roland was a shifter. Shifters knew their mates by scent, didn’t they?

  Fighting back a sigh of frustration, Seconds did not show frustration, ever, Tobias settled his right hand lightly on Roland’s shoulder. He shivered at the contact. Gods above, I’m actually touching my mate. At over four hundred years old, Tobias had waited a long time to find that special someone.

  Damn it, I can’t screw this up!

  A need to touch more of the skinny young male before him surged through him and Tobias settled his second hand on Roland’s flank. He rubbed slowly over the jutting hip bone, up his skinny side, and back down again. Damn, he wanted to explore every inch of this slender shifter.

  “Roland,” Tobias rumbled, trying to keep his tone even and calm. “Talk to me. I understand you’re young. I’ve waited over four hundred years to find you, so I can be patient. If you need time—” He paused, searching for the right words. While he could be patient, it wasn’t exactly his strong point. Tobias wasn’t certain how long he’d be able to wait and didn’t want to set up false hopes. “We can work this out,” he finished lamely.

  He hated having an audience but figured sending everyone away would be counter-productive.

  Finally, Roland stopped shaking.

  Tobias kept up the light stroking, appreciating that his mate seemed to be responding to his touch, at least. Even if he vocally denied their bond, Roland’s body knew the truth.

  Roland turned his head a bit and peered up at him, blinking tears out of his big green eyes. Normally, Tobias would feel disdain at such weakness. All he felt at that moment, however, was a deep-seated desire to erase the pain marring the slender oval face of the male before him.

  “We can work this out,” Tobias repeated, hoping it didn’t sound too much like he was pleading.

  Roland closed his eyes for a few seconds, and Tobias thought he was rejecting him again. Then, without looking at him, Roland whispered, “It’s not that I don’t want a mate. I can’t have a mate.”

  Confusion filled Tobias, causing him to stop rubbing his mate’s side. Fortunately, Roland continued.

  “I’m not a child,” Roland told him. “I’m probably around forty or so, and I’m not physically capable of mating.”

  With those cryptic words, Roland leaped to his feet and rushed through a door on the left.

  Tobias stared at Roland’s ass in shock, even as his cock thickened beneath his loincloth. “What the hell?” He rose, having every intention of following. Damn it, he’d get an explanation even if he had to break the door down to go inside and get it.

  “Wait,” Perseus urged. When Tobias turned and snarled at him, Perseus held up his hand, “Please, Second. I think I can help with your confusion.”

  Tobias crossed his arms over his chest. “Well?”

  Perseus grimaced and rubbed a clawed hand over his scalp. “You noticed that your mate appears…young, yet he said he’s around forty years of age?”

  “Yes,” Tobias rumbled.

  When he’d walked in and spotted the skinny shifter in Vane’s arms, at first, he felt bad for Matthew, since he and Vane had worked so hard through so many misunderstandings already. Then, the young shifter’s scent had hit him, and he’d taken a second look at the male.

  Wild, dark locks fell in disarray around a thin face. The man’s body appeared too lean, the knobs of his spine showing clearly down his back. Tobias wanted to trace those prominent bumps, follow them to the deep vee of his high, rounded ass. As far as extra flesh went, it appeared it all remained on the young man’s butt.

  Tobias’ blood had flowed south, heating in his veins. Shock mingled with excitement and pleasure as he realized that this shifter was his long-awaited-for mate.

  Roland had positioned his skinny arms and legs in such a way that his genitals were hidden. Tobias had checked, because while his own cock plumped behind his loincloth, betraying his attraction to the young male, he couldn’t scent any arousal from the young shifter.

  “How old was Roland when he was dumped in your cage, Vane?” Perseus asked, his words blunt.

  Tobias grimaced at the picture those words created.

  Vane didn’t correct him, answering, “Fifteen and he stayed with me for two years. He’s been in captivity a good twenty-five years.”

  Tobias frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  Perseus sighed and shook his head. “It’s something Leroy noticed, Tobias, and after seeing how young Roland appears, I’m a little worried about how it will impact you since you claim him as your mate.”

  “What?” Tobias growled. “What did Leroy notice?” Why couldn’t the man just spit it out?

  The overly spicy scent of unease poured off of Perseus, and Tobias barely resisted the urge to slam the man against the wall and demand answers. Finally, Perseus peered at him through his lashes and murmured, “At some point, Roland was castrated, and from his appearance, it was before he completed puberty. Essentially, his body is stuck in adolescence, which is why his olfactory senses haven’t developed enough to recognize a mate’s scent.”

  “By the Gods,” Tobias whispered. He struggled to wrap his mind around that idea. Licking his lips, he murmured, “And his claim that he isn’t capable of mating?”

  “Well,” Perseus drew the word out as he swept his gaze over Tobias, probably searching for how his words were affecting him.

  Tobias growled. “Roland is my fucking mate, whether he can scent it or not. I want to help him.”

  Perseus nodded. “Good. He’ll need it…and patience,” he added. “Because of Leroy’s observation, I checked into testosterone replacement therapy, and I think it will help him. Especially after his comment about not being capable of mating…which leads me to believe he doesn’t produce enough testosterone to sustain an erection.”

  Oh, shit. My mate doesn’t get hard? No wonder he’d seemed so upset about finding a mate. And what if he never recognizes me as his mate? How will that affect our bonding?

  Tobias didn’t know, but there was only one way to find out. He glanced toward Vane. “I’ll find a way to make this work,” he vowed, uncertain if he spoke the words more for himself or to assure the other gargoyle that he wouldn’t hurt Vane’s friend.

  Vane’s eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth, but closed it just as quickly. Finally, he settled for a sharp nod.

  After taking a few steps toward the closed bathroom door, Tobias paused and looked at Perseus. “D
o what you can to create a shifter friendly program. I’ll talk to Roland and, when he’s ready, bring him to you for...treatment.”

  “I’ll put something together,” Perseus promised.

  Nodding, Tobias headed toward the closed door.

  “Good luck,” Matthew called, his tone tentative.

  Tobias looked over his shoulder at Vane’s human mate. “Thank you,” he responded.

  Sweeping his gaze over Matthew, Tobias saw how he’d pressed his back to Vane’s chest and pulled Vane’s arms around himself. Matthew had twined his fingers with his gargoyle mate’s claws.

  Tobias found that the desire to do that with Roland, to hold him just like that, was undeniable. He realized that Matthew had been persistent, patient, devious, and strong in winning Vane’s trust. Tobias mentally reminded himself that he’d need to be the same.

  The others filing from the room pulled him from his thoughts.

  Returning his focus to the closed bathroom door, Tobias rapped gently. When he didn’t get a response, he knocked louder. This time, after a few seconds, he heard a watery-sounding, go away.

  Oh, fuck that.

  Tobias reached down and gripped the handle. He wasn’t surprised to find it locked, but that didn’t stop him. Using his gargoyle strength, he wrenched the handle and broke the lock, popping the door open.

  Pushing the door wide, Tobias stepped inside the small room. He glanced around, searching for his mate. His heart clenched in his chest upon spotting him seated on the floor, wedged between the toilet and the wall. Again, his knees were pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around them.

  Allowing a sigh to slip passed his teeth and lips, Tobias slowly moved across the spacious area and lowered to his knees before the shifter. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d kneeled before a male once, let alone twice, in one evening. Upon spotting the trembling in Roland’s skinny body, he couldn’t help but reach for the male.

  Roland flinched.

  Tobias chose to ignore that. Gripping Roland’s upper arms, Tobias felt his mate’s cold, clammy skin. Not liking that one bit, especially with how little padding Roland had to hold in his body heat, Tobias pulled his mate out of his hiding space as gently as he could.

  Roland whimpered and resisted a bit, wriggling in his grip.

  Growling more in warning than irritation, Tobias rumbled, “Come here, Roland.”

  “This won’t work,” Roland whispered.

  At least, he stopped fighting and came forward, out of his self-imposed prison. Tobias took that as a small win. “Are you averse to me as your mate?” he asked, truly curious. “Or just a mate in general?”

  To Tobias’ utter shock, Roland actually kept coming. He pressed close and curled up on his lap, similar to what he’d done to Vane. Tobias let him. He rocked back onto his ass, which, fortunately, landed his back against a wall. Fighting back a shiver at the sudden cold, Tobias released Roland’s arms so he could wrap them around the much smaller male.

  “Easy, little one. I’ve got you,” Tobias whispered, the endearment easily rolling off of his tongue.

  “You don’t want me,” Roland mumbled. “I’m damaged goods.”

  Tobias closed his eyes. His throat constricted. For just a second, he felt pin pricks hit the backs of his eyes. Damn it all, he would not cry…not when he knew his mate’s words weren’t true. “Who gives a shit if you don’t have testicles,” Tobias snarled. Roland stiffened in his arms, but he wouldn’t let go. “The doctor can help you,” he whispered.

  When Roland hunched in on himself, Tobias wanted to bite his own tongue off. Instead, he thought quickly and blurted, “I know why you believe you can’t have a mate.” Okay, maybe not the best thing to say either, but… “We can work through this. If Fate didn’t want us to be together, I wouldn’t recognize your scent as my one and only.”

  Tobias waited for some response from Roland. He struggled to keep from tightening his grip as each second passed in silence, fighting the desire to hold the man until he agreed to be his. Instead, Tobias eased his hold enough to stroke one hand up and down the man’s spine…the naked man.

  He had to shift Roland to the left a bit to keep his suddenly aching prick from rubbing against his mate’s rounded ass. Oh, but it was difficult. He could so easily imagine pulling the stays on his loincloth, freeing his erection, and sliding it between the mounds of his mate’s ass.

  Damn, he could ride his mate’s ass to completion, spilling his seed all over his back, marking him. Then, every paranormal who smelled Roland would know he was taken.

  Roland shifted his weight, making his intention to move away apparent. Refusing to allow the shifter to get away, Tobias demanded, “Tell me your thoughts.” Would his mate completely refuse to communicate? What would he do then? Was his mate stuck in an adolescent mentality, too? With the way he’d crawled onto his lap and clung to him, Tobias wouldn’t be surprised. Not that Tobias didn’t enjoy holding and touching Roland, but that could get a bit awkward while trying to fulfill his duties.

  To Tobias’ surprise, Roland lifted his head and stared him straight in the eye. “I want you to release me.”

  “Why?” Tobias blurted out the question without thinking.

  Still holding his gaze, Roland grimaced, then told him, “Because it was unfair to expect comfort from you when I have nothing to offer you in return.”

  Frowning, Tobias clenched his jaw. He hadn’t busted into this room just to be sent away. However—taking in the dirt embedded in the creases of Roland’s finger-knuckles and acknowledging that the smell of dirt and sweat permeated the male’s scent—Tobias decided another tactic might be beneficial.

  Instead of releasing Roland, Tobias used his impressive strength to rock to his feet, still holding his mate in his arms. Roland squeaked and started to flail. Tobias cradled the much smaller male to his chest.

  “Easy, little one,” he rumbled.

  Roland gaped up at him. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to show you that you do have something to offer me,” Tobias stated, his voice firm. He needed Roland to start listening.

  Roland snorted. “Like what?” he grumbled, finally showing a bit of spirit.

  Smiling, Tobias stepped into the oversized shower stall. Because most gargoyles were quite large, when the clutch had purchased and renovated this estate, they’d made certain every shower stall and every tub was huge. At the time, Tobias had wondered at his clutch-leader, Maelgwn’s logic. Now, he appreciated the gargoyle’s foresight.

  “We are going to get you warm and clean. How long has it been since you’ve enjoyed a long, hot shower?”

  Roland peered up at the dual shower heads. “I don’t know.” He whispered the admission.

  There were way too many scents on Roland’s skin for Tobias’ liking, and if he could use the excuse of warming his mate in the shower to remove them, he’d do it. Then, Tobias planned to replace them with his own.

  After turning on the water and finding the right temperature, Tobias moved Roland under the spray. He picked up the soap and used it to lather up a cloth. He returned his focus to Roland and stated, “Having a mate isn’t all about sex, Roland. It’s about companionship. One of the things mates do for each other is simply being there to care for one another.”

  Chapter Three

  Roland had frozen upon feeling the heated spray hit him. Tobias’ words barely registered to him as the realization that he was taking his first hot shower in nearly twenty-five years hit him. Tears beaded at the corners of his eyes and he fought back a whimper as he just…enjoyed.

  Then, the feel of a moist, soapy fabric being rubbed over his skin caused him to squeal and jump sideways, out from beneath the heavenly stream of water, and he slammed his shoulder into a tile-covered wall. Hissing, he rubbed his shoulder, trying to ease the ache.

  “Easy, Roland,” Tobias murmured, reaching for him with his empty hand. He settled his large
, clawed fingers on Roland’s shoulder, replacing Roland’s hand in gently massaging him.

  Roland had to admit, he liked the soothing touch. He turned his back to the larger male and pressed into the touch. If he’d been in cat form, he’d have arched and purred.

  Tobias gently tugged him back under the spray. “I won’t hurt you. I only want to help.”

  At the pleading in Tobias’ tone, Roland felt the fight leave him. He didn’t want to lead the big gargoyle on, but Tobias seemed so earnest…and it’d been so long since someone had taken care of him.

  Roland nodded. “Okay,” he whispered.

  Once again, Tobias pressed the soft, soapy cloth against Roland’s skin, this time on the opposite shoulder of where he still rubbed, erasing the earlier pain. Roland sighed and closed his eyes, enjoying the pleasant sensation of the cloth sliding over his damp flesh.

  Tobias rubbed across Roland’s shoulders, adding his second hand to the work. He swept down, first one arm, back up, then did the same with the other before starting to work the cloth down his back. All the while, he made an odd, rumbling, humming noise, which Roland found strangely relaxing.

  Suddenly, it occurred to Roland that he hadn’t been washed by another since his mother stopped giving him baths at the age of six. Shyness unlike anything he’d experienced before flooded him. Roland covered his groin, hiding his flaccid dick behind his hands.

  Roland hunched his shoulders. He closed his eyes. Knowing he was skinny and short and malnourished, he worried the other male would be turned off by his body. Then again, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do if Tobias was turned on either.

  Having been imprisoned since the age of fifteen, it wasn’t as if Roland had any experience with anything of an intimate nature. At that time, he’d just started admitting—to himself anyway—that he found the male form more exciting than the female form. He certainly hadn’t admitted that to anyone, and yet, Fate knew.