by Marcy Jacks
Mike couldn’t see through his eyes anymore. He thought for sure that he’d been able to do that. He’d thought for sure that he’d been able to see the energy itself as he gave it to him.
Tristan looked on top of the world as he threw Mike a thumbs up, of all things, and went to join Tory as they spoke to the referee who had their paperwork to sign.
Always by the books these things.
“Hey Zack?”
“Yeah?”
“When you’re giving Tory his energy, are you able to see through his eyes?”
“What? No, I mean, did you?”
Mike scratched his shoulder. It hurt so much when he touched it that he hissed, pulling his hand back and looking down. “What the hell?”
Red was on his fingers. His shoulder was bleeding? Holy shit. He hadn’t noticed, and now Zack saw the dark spot on his black T-shirt.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing!” Mike snapped, pulling his sleeve up to have a look.
At first he thought this might have been from the shattering glass back at Zack’s new condo, but the sleeve wasn’t ripped, and when he pulled it up there was no glass.
Just claw marks.
Mike couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. He almost didn’t believe what he was looking at, and he glanced over at Tristan and Tory as they spoke to the ref. Even blondie came out of her tower to sign everything that needed signing and to hand over the reward she’d agreed upon. When the referee frowned at her and started yelling, and the crowd booed again, Mike got the impression she didn’t have the funds to pay what she’d agreed to.
Ouch. That was going to fuck her over for fighting in the future.
Mike was mainly focused on Tristan’s bleeding shoulder.
Same shoulder, same three marks.
Well, not exactly the same. Mike’s slash marks were smaller, maybe a little thinner. And they apparently fascinated Zack. He couldn’t stop looking at them.
“Really? Holy shit!” He smiled as though this was the greatest thing he’d ever seen in his life. “Do you have any idea what this means?”
“That I’m going to have a nasty scar? I figured that.”
“Don’t be stupid, it means you got this from Tristan’s fight!”
“I know,” Mike said, still looking at the mark.
Zack stopped smiling at the wound and looked at Mike as though he didn’t understand the problem.
“I mean, would it be so bad if you were mated to Tristan? For real mated like I am to Tory?”
Mike nodded, then he shook his head. “No. I just… can’t believe this is real.”
What were the odds of this? And why did he need to get wounded in order to realize it was the truth?
All those painful looks Tristan had been giving him, his red eyes sadder than they had any business being whenever Mike tried to reject him suddenly made a little more sense. The guy didn’t just like Mike for his red hair, or because he had a crush on him, or even thought he was a good lay.
Jesus fucking Christ, they were actually mated. They were mated and so connected that Mike somehow managed to take his wounds. That was supposed to be a difficult thing for mates to do for their dragons in a fight, and the humans who could perform that act tended to be told not to, or if they couldn’t help it, they were not allowed in the arenas.
Sometimes their mates were no longer allowed to fight professionally, if they were fighting professionally at all, because the risk was too great and the UDF didn’t want anyone getting hurt who didn’t need to be hurt.
Too damaging to the reputation.
“I wish I could take Tory’s pain and wounds for him. I mean, I don’t want to hurt myself too much, but you look all right. How much does it hurt?”
Zack actually touched the wound, and Mike nearly killed him after jumping away from that poking, prying finger. “That hurts!” he yelled.
Zack backed off, raising his hands, a nervous smile on his mouth. “Sorry, sorry. I just wanted to see if it was real.”
“What? Of course it’s real!”
Mike had to stop yelling. He was pretty sure the referee was never going to hear him up here with the crowd still around, still laughing and cheering for those who had won their bets, or complaining and booing loudly for those who had lost. Still, Tristan clearly sensed something was up by the way he glanced back at him.
Mike avoided eye contact.
Tristan was his mate. He could sense what was going through Mike’s head. He could feel his annoyance. Did he feel his pain? Or was he confusing it with his own? They shared the wound now, after all.
“Hopefully it heals the same way a dragon’s wound would heal,” Zack said.
“Yeah.” Mike gently rolled his sleeve back over his shoulder. He didn’t want the referee seeing the wound in case that would impact the game. He didn’t think it would. This wasn’t any kind of professional match, but he wasn’t taking this kind of wound for nothing.
He looked back down at Tristan, stunned to see the man was still staring up at the tower. As though he’d been waiting to catch sight of Mike’s eyes.
Mike didn’t know what to say or do for him at that moment other than to smile back at him.
“How do you feel?” Zack asked carefully.
“Like I just won something really important.”
Chapter Ten
Tristan knew it the second Mike climbed down from the tower. He could smell it before he saw it. The blood and sweat, and it was all coming from Mike.
His mate had suffered up there, had exerted himself more than most other mates did in a battle between dragons. Because he hadn’t just given his energy. He’d actually taken some of Tristan’s pain. Not just his pain, but a portion of his wounds.
Tristan had thought his opponent was just weak, that he didn’t know how to properly fight or was being sloppy.
Mike gingerly eased himself down off the tower, stood tall, and smiled when he walked up to Tristan, but he couldn’t hide his pain from Tristan anymore.
He thought his own shoulder had started to throb after the fight was over, but he was feeling Mike’s shoulder throbbing, because he wasn’t used to fighting.
“Are you… are you all right?” Tristan wanted to wrap his mate up into his arms. He wanted to hold Mike close and never let him go.
Too many people were around. Too much was happening. The referee was still taking blondie’s name and shooting off an email to the UDF’s civilian department to put her transgression on her record.
“I don’t think we need to be here any longer. I can take you home. Or you could come with me.”
He would much rather his mate came home with him, but with Mike’s aversion to dragons and what just happened now, Tristan wasn’t so sure that throwing the other man over his shoulder and carting him off like the prize he most certainly was would be a good idea.
Much as he wanted to do it.
Mike blushed. There was an air of vulnerability around him that was different from what Tristan was used to seeing, like he was more bashful than anything.
“Well, I wouldn’t mind going back to your place. I have a few questions, and I should say some things to you. Among other things.”
It was the last bit of that sentence that really got his attention.
Oh, hell yes.
Suddenly, Mike backed away from him. “Wait a minute, uh, do you think we can take an Uber back to your place or something?”
Tristan laughed, though he glanced back at Tory and Zack. Tory was currently being showered with congratulatory kisses by his mate, the both of them happily ignoring the referee who was still giving it to blondie over there, soaking in the cheers of the crowd.
Tristan didn’t think he was going to have the patience to wait for a human mode of transportation.
“I have a better idea,” he said, reaching for Mike, shocking the man when he pulled him up and into his arms.
Mike let out a startled noise, but he didn’t scream like he’d done the last
time Tristan tried to fly away with him.
“Whoa, uh, please don’t drop me,” Mike said, though he didn’t tell Tristan not to fly away either.
“Never,” Tristan promised, spreading his wings.
He felt lighter than a feather as he jumped into the air, carrying his mate away with him, leaving the crowds behind. Mike gasped for breath as the earth left him behind, but when he wrapped his arms around Tristan’s neck, there was none of that fear there had been the last time.
Only wonder as they went into the clouds.
The wind was louder up here, and it was a little colder for humans. Tristan was fine, but he knew not to stay up here for too long. He had to take care of Mike’s wound.
“I think… I could get used to this. So long as we only ever fly like this.”
Tristan smiled at that, catching another gust of wind. He was moving along at a decent pace. He could be home by now, but he wanted a minute up here, where it was peaceful.
“You prefer to fly when you’re in my arms.”
“Better than flying on your back. All the times I thought I was going to slip right off.” Mike shivered. “Yeah, no thanks.”
Tristan laughed. “Very well. This way from now on it is. As much as you like.”
“Yeah, this is better. Feels like I got a lock around my legs and back with the way you hang onto me.”
“Does it?”
Mike nodded, wiggling a little. “My own living, breathing seat belt.”
His mate was a fool, but the way they were talking now was so much better than it had been a moment ago. They seemed to be getting along. Mike didn’t give off the impression he was going to try running away the second Tristan released him either.
“As for your arm, how did you do that?”
“I don’t know,” Mike said.
“Does it hurt?”
“Lots.”
Tristan winced. “We’ll take care of that in a minute, baby.”
He felt Mike warming in his arms at the term. Tristan swore to himself he would say it more and more if it would continue to please him.
He landed gracefully on his own balcony. Because of the way the building was shaped, even though his space was one floor lower than Tory’s, with the positioning of their balconies, it meant Tristan could swoop in and land without having to perform any awkward angles.
It also meant there was a little bit of glass on his balcony he hadn’t noticed.
Mike noticed it, too.
“Those bastards. I can’t believe it. I knew dragons fought a lot, but I didn’t think it was so bad for the non-professionals.”
“What did you think it was like?” Tristan was genuinely curious. So many humans had so many different ideas of what they thought a dragon’s day to day life was.
Mike scratched the side of his cheek. “I don’t know. I figured it was more in good fun. Or maybe like doing a job. Fighting to get money and land, that sort of thing. This seems almost like everyone has a score to settle. Actually, what was that bitch’s name?”
Tristan couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from quirking, and he really did give it a try. “You’re never going to believe this. Her name is Barbie.”
“No!”
Tristan laughed. “Yeah. Or it was the name she gave, at any rate. No telling if it’s really her name or not.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it. Oh God, she kind of looks like a mean, bitchy Barbie, doesn’t she?”
“I hear they’re coming out with more kinds of those dolls.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Tristan brought his mate into the bathroom. He used his elbow to get the light. He could have put Mike down sooner, but in his head, it seemed imperative that he keep holding onto the other man, that he keep Mike in his arms for as long as possible.
Or he was just being an idiot and refusing to let him down.
Finally, he had to set Mike on the bathroom counter. Mike smirked at him, his legs dangling.
“I feel like such a little kid right now.”
“Behave and I’ll give you something sweet afterwards.”
He meant that as a joke, only realizing how it sounded when it came out of his mouth. Which was fine. He was going to roll with it. Mike’s awkward nature was clearly rubbing off on him. Might as well make the most of this.
He grabbed the First Aid kit he’d only purchased after Tory bitched at him enough to buy it, and then hadn’t touched it in years. Dragons typically didn’t need such things, but Tory had insisted. Said it was better to have one and not need it than need it and not have it.
Mike watched him carefully as Tristan unzipped the bag. There were medicines in here that were definitely expired, but he only wanted the alcohol and the bandages.
“I don’t think it needs stitches, you didn’t take all of my wound, but if you want to go to a doctor, we’ll go.”
“No, I think it’ll be fine once I get something on it. I really don’t like hospitals.”
“Really?”
A small detail, but everything about the other man was fascinating to him. Tristan wanted to know everything there was to know about him.
He could tell the same was true with Mike, too. He was just as curious.
“So, do people usually think you’re pissed off at everything?”
Not the first thing Tristan expected Mike to ask him.
“Something like that. Red eyes tends to make people believe you’re getting ready to burn their houses down.”
“Can you make your eyes a different color?”
Tristan smiled. Such innocent questions. “No. They’ll always be like this. Other dragons change their eye color when they’re angry about something. I always look angry.”
Something occurred to him in that moment, and he felt like a fool for not having thought of it before now. “Did you think I was angry at you or going to attack you, when we first saw each other?”
The first time they officially met was when Mike opened his eyes in Tristan’s bed. It was right after the attack, and though Tristan had some time to get used to what his mate looked like, Mike’s first time seeing him was when Tristan was standing over him, observing him.
Aside from how that could come off, the red eyes right in his face might have been a good chunk of the reason why Tristan got punched in the face that day.
Mike didn’t look at him, but the change in color in his cheeks made it clear Tristan was on the right path here.
“I mean, not necessarily.”
Which was code for absolutely.
Tristan let it go. He wet some of the clean clothes in his kit with the alcohol and proceeded to clean the wound. He wasn’t even sure if it needed cleaning. Real claws hadn’t touched this skin, so it should be clean, right? He wasn’t going to take the risk, though he felt a little bad when Mike hissed and tried to pull back from him.
Tristan was a mean mate, however. He grabbed Mike around his good shoulder and held him still.
“Okay, okay, that hurts, so if you could slow that down, that would be great.” Mike tensed, made a strange noise through his teeth, but Tristan didn’t let him go.
“I’m almost done,” he said, and it seemed his mate was getting used to the treatment, though he still spoke through his teeth.
“What about you? You’re the one who took most of the damage. Aren’t you going to need some treatment?”
Tristan chuckled at that. “Looking forward to giving me my just deserts, are you?”
Tristan was pretty sure he saw Mike’s eyes flash at him. “A little.”
Tristan shook his head. “Uh huh, well, that’s not going to happen. My wound is already healing. I can feel the skin scabbing beneath my shirt. It’ll be a pink mark by morning, and a barely visible scar in a week.”
“Must be nice to have that kind of healing,” Mike said.
Tristan knew his mate didn’t mean anything by it, but he was still very aware of how the fighting was going to affect him going forward.
Tristan too
k the bandages and began wrapping Mike’s arm. “You will most likely heal like a normal human.”
Mike sighed. “Fuck. That sucks.”
It did, and it made Tristan feel all the more guilty. He didn’t want this for his mate. He didn’t want him suffering, and he didn’t want him carrying scars that should belong to only Tristan.
“You might heal a little faster, but we’re talking a couple of days at best. I don’t know much about this, to be honest. I’ve never met a human mate who took the marks of their spouse the way you did for me.”
Mike blinked at him. “Really?”
Tristan nodded. “Yes, though to be honest, I don’t socialize much with other dragons and their mates. I’ve heard of this, seen it spoken of in magazines and interviews, but no one in person.”
Right about then, he was wishing this wasn’t so rare. He wanted to know more about this. He wanted to know if all his fights would end in Mike taking his pain or even his wounds. There was supposed to be a way to control that, would it take long for Mike to learn how?
Did Tristan even want to fight if this was going to be a possibility? More wounds he would need to clean?
He found himself stroking Mike’s arm without realizing it. Touching the man’s skin left him with a sense of intimacy that felt good, but his skin also seemed so much more fragile than what it had any right to be. He pulled his hand away quickly, realizing what he was doing, and he began to clean up the counter and put away the First Aid kit.
“Are you mad?”
“At myself? Yes.”
“You didn’t do this.”
“I did. If I’d known for one second you would be taking my pain, I would have fought harder. I wouldn’t have played with my food the way I did and finished the bastard off much sooner.”
Mike snorted. “Played with your food?”
Tristan shrugged. “You know what I mean.”
Mike wet his lips, his expression turning suddenly serious. “Yeah, I think I do know what you mean.”
Just like that, they weren’t talking about the fight anymore.
It was silent in Tristan’s bathroom as they stared at each other, their connection becoming ever clearer. Just as it was clear to Tristan that Mike knew. He knew.