“How is anything about paranormals possible? It just is, handsome Walter,” Treatise stated. “Now, let’s get you dried off. You need to relax. Rest your mind.” He rubbed his fingertips along his human’s spine. “Massage and sleep.”
Walter’s eyes were wide and his face appeared pale, but he didn’t fight Treatise’s hold.
Treatise easily balanced his human with one hand as he reached for a towel with the other. He wrapped it around his shoulders, then returned to the bedroom. After he lay the man on the bed, he returned to the bathroom, shut off the water, and grabbed a bottle of lotion.
Returning to Walter’s side, Treatise found the male exactly where he’d left him. The human lay sprawled on his stomach. Although he’d pulled a sheet over his hips and one leg, Treatise could still see that his limbs were slightly splayed, his legs relaxed, and his arms bracketed under his head. His face was turned toward him.
“You kissed me.”
Treatise froze in the doorway. Just for an instant. Then, he jerked a nod and accepted that there could be consequences for his actions. He would never deny the affection he gave his mate.
“Yes, Walter,” Treatise responded, closing the distance between them. “I did kiss you. Do you remember me telling you that paranormals are attracted by scent?”
After he saw that Walter nodded once, Treatise curved his lips into a small smile.
“And I do find your scent attractive,” Treatise admitted, realizing the game was up. “And I can scent your arousal, Walter,” he stated bluntly, pouring lotion onto his hands and getting them nice and slippery. “It’s not something either of us can hide. Nor should we.” He winked. “We are mates, after all.”
Treatise placed his hands to the center of Walter’s wide back and began to knead his flesh. He massaged along his back muscles, then up his spine. As he did so, he felt Walter tense beneath his fingers even as he let out a low groan.
“That’s the way, handsome,” Treatise urged, moving to work down one arm. “Just relax and enjoy my touch. I will make you well.”
Walter groaned loudly, his arousal flooding the air. “St-Stop,” he moaned. “I’m so hard. If you keep doing that. I’ll come.”
“Come if you need to, Walter,” Treatise rumbled, loving seeing the human’s response to his touch. “Hell. I walked in here, smelled your fantastic scent permeating the room, and made a hell of a mess.”
“What are you talking about?”
Hearing Walter’s moaned words as he worked up his other arm, Treatise slid his eyes to half-mast. The look of bliss, the scent of arousal, it all combined to create the headiest of aphrodisiacs. His own cock spurted pre-cum, soaking his loincloth.
Treatise kept his hands working. He massaged the leanly muscled arms of his mate. He worked back up to his shoulders, then down his spine, all the while listening to his mate’s heady cries.
By the time Treatise reached Walter’s tailbone, massaging the sensitive skin at the top of his cleft, his lover moaned wantonly. He writhed on the sheets, expressing his pleasure. When Treatise skimmed his fingertip down the trench of his ass, Walter came unglued.
Beneath his fingertips, Walter shuddered and jolted. He shivered and jerked. Feeling the human’s trembles through his hands, Treatise couldn’t imagine a better feeling of satisfaction.
I pleased my mate.
The knowledge caused Treatise’s own balls to tighten. For the second time in an hour, he came untouched, this time flooding his loincloth. Shuddering, he fought back a growl of pleasure, not wanting to frighten the human with the intensity of his lust.
When Treatise opened his eyes, he realized his hands rested on Walter’s hips, cradling the narrow bones. Above them, his back rose and fell steadily. After a few seconds watching, he realized his human slept.
Treatise watched him rest for a moment. Then, he made quick work of cleaning him up and settling him more comfortably on his bed. After another pause, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his upturned temple.
Turning away, Treatise left Walter’s quarters. He headed to his suite to clean up, then to find either the doc or the nurse.
Chapter Five
Walter eased into the comfortable chair. Sighing, he stared out the window, watching the sun set. Treatise would be waking soon, and Walter warred with his feelings for the gargoyle.
While they did not speak of it, Walter lost control of his body every time Treatise gave him a massage... which was every evening. He knew the gargoyle got off on it, too. He heard the big male’s subdued groans and felt his hands tremble. They didn’t talk of that, either.
Walter might have been out of his mind and writhing in pleasure, but he’d heard Treatise claim that they were mates. The gargoyle hadn’t brought it up again. Instead, he just chatted with him... about almost everything under the sun.
Answering the gargoyle’s questions honestly, Walter had told him of growing up on the reservation. His father had worked in the mines. His mother had been a maid for a number of families in the nearby towns. They’d grown up poor, but Walter had loved running wild through the trees. His sister, Ilial, though, not so much.
Ilial had always wanted more. She’d wanted the fancy toys she’d seen in the homes of the houses their mother had cleaned. She’d wanted fancy clothes that she’d seen on TV. Most of all, she hadn’t wanted to work nearly hard enough to get them.
His sister had run away over a decade ago. She’d been seventeen and Walter had been twenty. Their father had died before she’d gotten around to sending an email—a fucking email—letting them know where she was. While their mother responded to the messages promptly and with love, Ilial had only ever written once or twice a year.
Three years before, Walter’s mother had grown sick. He’d asked Ilial to come, to see her once more on her deathbed. Ilial’s response—just a few words saying she couldn’t afford a trip there—came three days after their mother had passed. Walter had responded with funeral times, but she hadn’t showed for that, either. He hadn’t heard from her since, and he hadn’t tried to contact her, either.
Walter had told Treatise of getting a job at Bud’s curiosity show at the age of twenty-four. He had started as a cage cleaner. Within a week, it had become clear to him that the other two cleaners, plus the one that he’d replaced, hadn’t cared one wit about the animals. They’d done the bare minimum, sometimes not even that, to get a pass from the shady sanitation inspector that came in regularly. Walter’s guess was that the guy was in Bud’s pocket.
Treatise had growled low in his throat and asked for a name. Walter had told him and Treatise had texted the information to someone, probably Tobias. Walter didn’t want to admit, even to himself, that he’d found the gargoyle’s indignant rage a turn on.
Walter had worked as a cage cleaner for over four years. He did his best to raise the bar for cleanliness and, due eventually to seniority, putting him as the head cleaner, the animals actually began to prosper. As much as they could with meals that barely met their nutritional needs.
The rather depressing conversation had ended with Walter admitting that he’d called in an anonymous tip to an inspector based in another city. Bud had needed to pay a huge fine and had to meet a number of upgrade requirements.
Walter had been promoted to security soon after that. He didn’t know if it was to get him away from the day-to-day business with the animals, because they suspected he’d turned them in. The other possibility was because even though he’d listened to their slurs about him being a red man, they still recognized his high work ethic.
“Matthew said that you were happy Caladon was being sold,” Treatise had commented. “Did you suspect he was a shifter?”
“Caladon?” Walter hadn’t understood. “Who is that?”
Treatise had smirked. “Guess not. Caladon is the boa constrictor that Bud sold. Matthew introduced himself as Mister Prentiss. Recognize the name?”
“The snake is actually a shifter t
hat turns into a human?” Walter hadn’t been too proud of the squeak in his voice. He’d cleared his throat as blood filled his face. “Sorry. I, uh, I’m ophidiophobic,” he admitted. “Afraid of snakes. I never even suspected.”
Fortunately, Treatise hadn’t made fun of him. Instead, he’d nodded and told him to stay away from the arboretum.
The knock on the door pulled Walter out of his thoughts. He blinked, realizing he sat in the dark. Glancing toward the window, he saw nothing but a black windowpane.
When the knock came again, Walter leaned over and turned on a lamp as he called, “Enter.” He struggled to his feet, grateful to finally be able to walk, even if he was slow at it, nor could he continue for long.
Leaning on a pair of forearm crutches, Walter watched Treatise enter the room. He sucked in a harsh breath as the gargoyle swept his gaze over him. The expression appeared hungry for just an instant before Treatise hid it.
It suddenly hit Walter. He and Treatise hadn’t spoken of their mutual get off sessions during the massages because the gargoyle hadn’t wanted to scare him with the intensity of his need. Treatise had claimed they were mates. That meant he needed Walter.
Walter’s heart beat faster at the heady realization.
Amazing.
Vowing to speak with Treatise regarding the matter, Walter struggled with the right words.
“Look at you,” Treatise praised, his expression pleased. “All dressed and waiting. How do you feel? It didn’t tax you too much, did it?”
All the prior days, Walter had waited in bed for Treatise. However, since his gargoyle had said he’d take him down to the dining hall for a meal, he’d wanted to be ready. Truthfully, Walter was so very happy to be leaving his suite, too. To that end, he’d dressed before Treatise arrived.
While Walter might be pushing himself a little, he would never admit to that.
“I’m good. Really,” Walter assured, returning his smile. “I was just so looking forward to getting out of this room.” He managed to shrug while leaning on the crutches. “I’m not used to being so stagnant. I appreciate you helping me get back on my feet.”
Treatise nodded slowly, an understanding smile on his face. “You’re doing great,” he praised. “You’ll be up and around steadily in no time. Now, let’s get some breakfast. Huh?”
“Breakfast?” Walter questioned, even as he shuffled forward. “Don’t you mean supper or dinner or whatever you call your evening meal in these parts?”
Barking a laugh, Treatise led the way out of the room. He shook his head. “Afraid not,” he said, closing the door behind them. “As a gargoyle, my meals are upside down. We wake at nightfall, so this would be us breaking our fast.”
“That is upside down,” Walter agreed. “But I do understand the logic of it.”
“Can you handle stairs?” Treatise asked, leading him down the hall and stopping at said stairs. “There’s an elevator, but it’s at the other end of the hall. Longer distance, I’m afraid,” he explained. “It was used by servants, once upon a time, to bring meals to the upper floors.”
“I’ll manage the stairs,” Walter assured, even though he wasn’t so certain himself. “How long have you all lived here?”
Walter grabbed one handrail, letting his crutch dangle from his wrist, then slowly started maneuvering down, one step at a time. To his relief, Treatise didn’t ditch him. Instead, he stayed only a step or two ahead of him.
“We’ve been here for a couple of centuries,” Treatise told him. “Staying out of the way of most of the nearby townspeople. Spreading rumors of eccentric billionaires, reclusive artists, or whatever else is not popular during any given century. It keeps the curious away.”
“That sounds lonely,” Walter blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “How do you find your mates then?”
“We wait for Fate’s time,” Treatise responded, his words slow. He offered him a sad smile. “Sometimes, we have a lot of years to wait. Others of us are luckier and stumble across them at the damnedest times.”
Walter scoffed, pausing on the landing that was halfway down the stairs. “You mean like me joining in a battle I don’t understand and betraying my boss?” He saw the way Treatise turned and his brow ridges shot up, his expression betraying his surprise. Smiling, Walter stated, “Yeah. I remember your claim. I won’t deny my attraction to you.”
Treatise’s expression changed to pleasure. He climbed the single step he’d gone down of the second half of the twisted staircase, and reached out to Walter. Cupping his cheek, he ran his thumb claw along his high cheek bone.
“I was concerned that you didn’t remember,” Treatise admitted on a whisper. “We have not spoken of it.”
“I remember,” Walter confirmed, nuzzling into Walter’s hold. When was the last time someone had touched him out of affection? He wasn’t certain, but he liked it. “I know you held your tongue to give me time. I appreciate that.” Then, he couldn’t help but smirk. “However, I’m not sure the staircase is the best place to have it.”
Treatise chuckled even as he nodded. “You’re right, handsome Indian,” he whispered, rubbing over his cheek bone again. “We’ll shelve the discussion until after breakfast, but I do plan to kiss you now.”
Realizing it was now or never, Walter revealed, “I’ve never kissed a man before.” He didn’t really count the quick peck Treatise had given him that first day. It had been too short, and Walter hadn’t had a chance to respond... one way or the other.
Walter’s words gave Treatise pause. His deep gold brow ridges drew down and together. “Do you consider yourself gay or bisexual, Walter? I will give you as much time as you need.”
“Oh, I knew I was gay by the time I was fourteen,” Walter admitted. “Unfortunately, it’s not like I went to college and could experiment the way most teens do. I went to work at eighteen, doing various labor jobs until landing the cleaning gig at Bud’s place years later. I sure as hell wasn’t going to advertise at work, so a couple of times a year I scraped up enough spare change to drive to the city for a night. Hand jobs in the back room of a bar or club aren’t conducive to kissing.”
Treatise’s smile turned more and more feral the longer Walter spoke. “I will be your first and only male, my sexy human,” he vowed. “If I kiss you now, I will not let you go so easily.”
“Even a traitor like me?”
Scoffing, Treatise rumbled, “You simply found a more worthy leader. You did not betray your principles, and that is all that matters.”
“You really think so?” Walter whispered.
He hated people thinking him a liar, but at times, that is how he thought of himself. He’d done his best to blow the whistle on Bud’s atrocities. Was that lying, after a fashion?
“I do.”
Treatise didn’t wait for Walter to come up with an answer. He settled his free hand on his upper arm and lowered his head. Pressing his lips against Walter’s own, he lightly brushed back and forth.
Walter gasped at the odd sensation of Treatise’s prominent canines rubbing over his bottom lip. The gargoyle took advantage, sliding his tongue into his mouth. Lapping at his teeth and licking his tongue, Treatise skillfully kept his sharp points from digging into him even as he urged Walter to open wider.
Not fighting, Walter did as the gargoyle wished. He tilted his head, allowing the male to slot their mouths together more fully. Taking advantage of the new position, he used his own tongue to lap along Treatise’s teeth. He felt the sharp points, causing goose bumps to break out down his neck.
Treatise had said mates bonded with a bite. His gargoyle would sink those sharp points into his flesh. How much would it hurt? Oddly enough, his dick thickened at the prospect, anticipation filling him.
Walter moaned as the goose bumps on his flesh turned to tingles. He shivered in Treatise’s hold. His cock throbbed behind the fly of his borrowed jeans.
When Treatise eased the kiss to an end, Walter gasped i
n a lungful of air. He struggled to control his desire to press his groin against the bigger male and rut. Never had he wanted to do something so badly.
“Easy, Walter,” Treatise crooned, rubbing up and down his back soothingly. “I apologize. I should not have let it get so out of hand. You just taste so good and you respond so beautifully.”
Walter chuckled roughly. His voice deepened with arousal, he replied, “That was... not like anything I ever experienced.”
“Good,” Treatise growled, sounding extremely pleased. “You got your feet under you? Ready to see a little of the estate and for a meal?”
At the mention of food, Walter’s stomach rumbled.
Treatise chuckled as he eased his hold and backed away a step. “That’s answer enough. Come on.”
Walter jerked a nod, getting his brain in gear. Hopefully, concentrating on the walk would ease his nearly painful erection. What he’d said was true. He’d never responded to a girl’s kiss that way. Of course, he’d stopped kissing girls when he was sixteen. He’d just not seen the purpose in it. At least, he’d held to that one truth.
“There are several wings, the smallest housing our chieftain and his mate’s rooms and studies, as well as those of the inner circle,” Treatise explained as they resumed their walk. “Those are our leaders. You’ve met several, the Chieftain Maelgwn and the Second Tobias. His mate is the lynx you all captured.”
“Shit,” Walter mumbled. “Really?” He grimaced. “How could he sit there and act so kindly to me?”
Treatise cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
Walter swallowed hard, thrusting his hand through his shoulder-length, black hair. “I wasn’t there, at the time, but Ryker was. He’s the one I heard it from.”
“Ryker?” Treatise growled, obviously not pleased to hear the man’s name. “What did he say?”
Realizing it was too late to hold the information back, Walter admitted, “When Bud first bought the lynx, nearly two decades ago—”
Believing in the Traitor Page 4