Comforting his Restless Stallion

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Comforting his Restless Stallion Page 5

by Charlie Richards

Thinking back to his childhood days, Baron frowned. “My father was an enforcer, and he expected me to follow in his footsteps, which I did. I didn’t really think anything about the beliefs being pushed on the herd—shifters should steer clear of humans because they’re inferior, the weak are there to serve the strong, and the strong males should mate with a female and copulate regularly, creating offspring.”

  Baron sighed as he thought about his own words.

  Just day-am. What rot.

  “Anyway,” Baron continued. “When I hit around twenty-five, I began to realize that I was different.” Those years had been damn tough, and he didn’t enjoy thinking about them—the confusion, the shame... the fear. He cleared his throat, forcing those memories back. “Knowing I would be chased away or killed”—like Nolan—”I hid my desires for men. I didn’t want to hide behind female skirts, so I became an asshole... a man no woman but those only interested in power could possibly want.”

  Closing his eyes, shame of a different sort filled Baron. “That got me noticed by Alpha Beacham, and by the time I ended up being found out as a traitor, I had risen in rank to second enforcer.” He scoffed. “Only Jayden and Ariana really knew who I was behind closed doors, and that was because he threatened to kick my ass when I said the wrong thing about humans. I really am”—he grimaced—”was an asshole.”

  Focusing on Conchlin, Baron whispered, “At least, maybe with your help I’ll make it a was, huh? I wanna be better for you. Start a new life together.” He reached out and squeezed his mate’s wrist since he currently held a fork. “I’d never intentionally hurt you, but I’ve grown thoughtless with my words. I’ll need you to call me out on that.”

  To Baron’s relief, Conchlin snickered. He put down his fork and took Baron’s hand between both of his own. “In this place, trust me, I won’t be alone in calling you out if you say something offensive.” He sobered, his brow ridges furrowing. “I’m three hundred and eighty-six years old, Baron, and the first two hundred fifty of those years were spent with a clutch that sounds an awful lot like your herd. After coming here, it took me years to stop jumping at my own shadow any time a big gargoyle raised his voice.” Conchlin’s expression turned wry. “I’m glad we both got out of those situations, and Fate put us in each other’s paths.”

  Baron nodded, uncertain what else to say.

  Fortunately, Conchlin didn’t seem to have the same problem. “So, are you ready for that shower? I’ll help you to the bathroom. While you piss and stuff, I’ll strip these sheets and put on new ones.” He winced sympathetically as he added, “I have a funny feeling you’ll end up ready to pass out by the time we’re done. Perseus doesn’t usually kid around about how much something is going to hurt. He’s a straight-shooter.”

  As soon as Conchlin mentioned the bathroom, Baron felt his bladder twinge. He nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

  Conchlin moved all the dishes out of the way, then pulled back the sheet.

  Baron began to swing his left leg sideways, off the bed, but instantly froze as a groan ripped from his lips. It felt as if someone was stabbing him with dozens of tiny knives all over his back, ass, and thighs. Curling his hands into fists, Baron focused on fighting the shudders racking him and on taking in one breath at a time.

  While Baron was unable to say how long he struggled, he finally became conscious of Conchlin’s fingers threading through his hair. He heard the gargoyle’s soft words, but couldn’t make them out. It was the feel of an odd vibrating sensation that soaked into him from his side that finally drew him out of his haze of pain.

  Baron bit back a growl of frustration upon the realization that Conchlin was soothing him. He was to be the alpha in their relationship. It should have been the other way around.

  Damn it. I can’t think like that anymore.

  “Just breathe, Baron,” Conchlin murmured, massaging his scalp. “It’ll pass. Gotta go slow, remember?” The gargoyle’s voice held a note of gentle chiding even as he pressed a kiss to Baron’s temple. “Can you talk to me? Show me you’re with me, huh?”

  Taking a slow deep breath, Baron managed to get ahold of himself. He found his mate’s scent comforting, and it calmed him. It was about then that he realized something else.

  “What is that noise you’re making?” The strange, soothing vibration was actually coming from his mate. The noise stopped, disappointing Baron. Then he realized how belligerent his question had sounded, so he turned his head enough to nuzzle Conchlin’s temple as he whispered, “I liked it, sweetie. Really.”

  Conchlin lifted his head a little so he could meet Baron’s gaze. “It’s called trilling. It’s a vibration we can create in our chest.” As he explained, he continued to pet Baron’s scalp. “It’s used to soothe and calm someone upset or hurting.” Dipping his chin, Conchlin peered at Baron through his lashes. “It’s especially useful on mates.”

  Humming, Baron forced a tight smile. “Thank you.” He wasn’t certain what else to say.

  “Of course.” Conchlin didn’t seem to need any more of a response. “Now, I’m going to grip your ankles, and we’re going to slide you off on your stomach.”

  Baron gritted his teeth and nodded. “Got it.”

  Conchlin did as he’d said. He gripped Baron’s ankles and urged him to rotate on the bed. Bending at the waist and finding his feet turned into a slow, painful process for Baron, but he managed it without crying out.

  Win.

  Within a few minutes, Baron was standing up straight and making his slow, halting way to the bathroom. He gritted his teeth as the stitches all over his backside made themselves known in the form of stinging pricks dancing across his skin. It didn’t help that when he reached the bathroom and spotted the toilet, his bladder twinged painfully.

  Fortunately, Baron reached the toilet before he pissed himself. He even managed to wait until Conchlin had exited the bathroom before giving in to the urge to relieve himself.

  Win, win.

  With his left hand on the back of the toilet and his right hand guiding his dick, Baron groaned and let go. He was panting softly by the time he finished, flushed, and shuffled to the sink. After washing his hands, he found a toothbrush and made use of it.

  Conchlin returned by the time Baron was rinsing his mouth. Either he’d taken a hell of a lot longer than he’d thought, or his gargoyle could change sheets faster than any paranormal he’d ever met. Baron was inclined to think it was the former.

  Once Baron had managed to get into the shower, even Conchlin’s fantastic smell couldn’t get a rise out of his flaccid dick. He didn’t fight the gargoyle when his mate urged him to place his forearms on the shower wall at head level. After resting his forehead on the wall, the position suddenly reminded Baron of how it’d felt to hang in chains.

  Black spots flashed across Baron’s vision as his pulse spiked. Something hit his back, and his mind could think of only one thing it could be... the whip. Crying out, he arched, causing more pain to slash through him.

  Unable to help himself, Baron screamed.

  Chapter Six

  Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

  Conchlin swung around from where he’d just changed the showerhead setting. Seeing the agonized expression on Baron’s face, his vacant look, and the way he arched his back, his own heart felt as if it seized in his chest. He mentally berated himself for his foolishness.

  I should have changed the showerhead setting before putting Baron in here.

  Just that couple seconds of spray on Baron’s back must have hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.

  Conchlin attempted to wrap his arms around Baron so he could rub his arms soothingly. His mate flailed as soon as he touched him, his movements stilted and uncoordinated. Grappling with some way to help his shifter, Conchlin mentally skipped through scenes he’d seen of other gargoyles with their shifter mates.

  Trilling deeply, Conchlin plastered himself to Baron’s side. He rubbed his right hand over his mate’s chest while gripping the bac
k of Baron’s neck with the other. Squeezing and massaging the shaking, jerking man’s neck as best he could, Conchlin murmured assurances, repeating Baron’s name over and over.

  After what felt like the longest minute of his life, Conchlin felt Baron begin to still in his arms. His chest heaved as he repeatedly blinked, probably attempting to focus. Baron snapped his mouth shut and just... stood there.

  Conchlin continued attempting to soothe his mate, reminding him he was safe, telling him he was going to be all right. He glanced around, wondering if there was anything else he should be doing. Spotting Perseus in the bathroom doorway through the still-open shower door, he shook his head sharply.

  Somehow, Conchlin just knew that even him, Baron’s mate, seeing the shifter like this would piss his man off. He was just that dominant. To Conchlin’s relief, he saw Perseus turn and leave.

  Conchlin figured the gargoyle would stick close for several minutes, just in case, but he appreciated the perceived privacy.

  “Are you with me?” Conchlin asked, returning his focus to Baron. The horse shifter still stared at the wall, causing a stone of worry to lodge in Conchlin’s gut. He gently petted Baron’s wide chest, absently appreciating his expansive muscle, as he petted down his neck with his left hand. “I’m so sorry I didn’t change the water setting. This was all my fault. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Finally, Baron turned his scowling visage Conchlin’s way, causing Conchlin to wince. “Mates are supposed to take care of each other, support each other, and I’ve already botched that up. Can you ever forgive me?”

  “You’re already forgiven, Conchlin,” Baron whispered, his voice rough from his screaming. “It wasn’t your fault. It was my own head.”

  Heaving a sigh, Baron slowly lowered his arms so they were more in a pushup position against the wall, although he appeared to be leaning most of his weight on the front of his left shoulder. That position allowed him to stare at Conchlin.

  Baron’s expression eased into a wan smile. “How about you wash me, sweetie, so I can go lie back down.” His eyelids drooped. “I’m about rung out.”

  Conchlin nodded, happy to have something to focus on other than his screw up. “Of course. Just stay still.”

  A gruff chuckle rumbled from Baron, making his muttered words tough to make out. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Grabbing the soft bath sponge, Conchlin got to work.

  The next several days, Conchlin and Baron fell into a reasonably easy routine. He would wake from roost and take a meal to Baron. They would sit and eat, chatting and sharing information about themselves.

  Conchlin found Baron had a difficult time opening up, but he was a patient gargoyle. It’d taken him over two hundred fifty years to get away from his old clutch, so waiting out his mate was kid’s play. He would eat and stare whenever Baron struggled with his words, giving his shifter time to sort through how to express himself.

  Other times Conchlin would chatter away about his job, about the clutch, and about all the humans and paranormals in it. He was pretty sure Baron appreciated the information. While his shifter didn’t say much, he did smile and listen attentively.

  While Baron was sleeping and healing, Conchlin continued with his studies. He also chatted with Nolan, who he knew was the brother of Baron’s best friend, Jayden, as well as the human female, Ariana. Doing so gave him insight into shifter dynamics, which considering Baron’s nature, he thought was necessary.

  Conchlin just hoped that, when Baron found out about his inquiries, he wouldn’t be upset.

  Per information Doctor Perseus and Doctor Cosmo had shared with Conchlin during the day, Baron would meet with whoever dropped by and asked for him. That included Chieftain Maelgwn and Second Tobias, as well as several visits from Nolan and Ariana. Other than that, he just rested and healed.

  As far as the healing went, Baron was well on the mend. Since he was eating plenty of solid food and getting lots of rest, his wounds had begun to heal swiftly. He was even able to get up and use the restroom by himself.

  Conchlin only knew that because the evening before, he’d discovered Baron’s room empty when he arrived with their breakfast... or Baron’s dinner, depending on how one looked at it.

  Humming happily, Conchlin went about his evening routine. He’d gotten cleaned up and left his room, striding through the manor. Reaching the top of the massive central stairway, he paused, feeling the skin on his neck goose bump. His anticipation at seeing his mate falling away, he glanced around.

  For some reason, his nerves spiked.

  Conchlin wasn’t certain why he suddenly felt so uneasy, but... then the moment passed as quickly as it came. Staring down the main hall’s staircase, he swept his gaze over the people below. He spotted Enforcer Einan and Enforcer Sapian heading toward the front of the house, but that was it.

  Neither of the huge males even glanced Conchlin’s way, too focused on their murmured conversation.

  Shaking his head, Conchlin bounced down the stairs, then headed to the dining hall. While filling his plate, he wondered how long it’d be before he’d be doing this with Baron. The docs always said he was improving, but they were waiting for some of the deeper gashes to finish sealing before giving him the all clear to move fairly freely.

  A few more days, yet, if he remembered correctly.

  “Conchlin.”

  Hearing Chieftain Maelgwn’s deep voice, Conchlin glanced over his shoulder as he eased the pressure off the dispenser handle on the coffee carafe. “Hey, Chieftain,” he greeted, grinning widely. Stepping left, he offered his chieftain room at the beverage counter. Then he thought better of that move and asked, “Can I get you some coffee?”

  Maelgwn opened his mouth, then hesitated. He nodded. “Yes, thank you. French roast. Black.”

  “Sure thing.” Conchlin quickly put a travel lid on the coffee he’d just poured, then set it on the tray already loaded with the plates he was taking to his mate. “Paper cup or glass mug?” he asked, hesitating.

  “Mug, please.”

  Conchlin nodded as he obeyed. After grabbing a large mug, he quickly filled it with French roast... probably a little too full. He turned and carefully held it out to Maelgwn.

  The dark blue gargoyle chieftain grunted softly as he took the offered beverage. He immediately brought it to his lips and sipped. Swallowing, he murmured appreciative thanks.

  Happy to have pleased his chieftain, Conchlin beamed at the male. Since Maelgwn was still staring at him, he waited. The big gargoyle didn’t make him wait long.

  “I hear congratulations are in order.” Chieftain Maelgwn smiled warmly and reached out to grip his shoulder. He squeezed lightly before releasing him. “How is Baron recovering? You getting along okay so far?”

  “Well, and thanks.” Conchlin’s happiness bled through in his voice as he gushed, “Baron is amazing. We both love the outdoors, which isn’t surprising, and he’s super sweet, just letting me prattle on.” Realizing that was exactly what he was doing, he bit his lip. His cheeks heated, but he couldn’t help adding, “And I love his dark skin. It’s so—”

  Seeing Maelgwn’s grin and the amusement twinkling in his dark eyes, Conchlin managed to snap his mouth shut.

  Maelgwn gripped his shoulder again and squeezed. “I’m glad to hear it.” A deep voice called the chieftain’s name, causing him to glance to the left. He lifted his chin in acknowledgment of whoever it was, then refocused on Conchlin. “Will you be in the infirmary later? I’d like to meet with you both in a bit.”

  Conchlin nodded, wondering what his chieftain needed. “Of course. What’s up?”

  Maelgwn glanced to the left again, and Conchlin followed his gaze. He saw Second Tobias standing near the door as well as Vane, a massive red, totally scary gargoyle who was loosely classified as an enforcer. The male didn’t interact with others much, so for him to be involved in whatever it was... that meant Maelgwn wanted muscle.

  Huh.

  “I’d r
ather get all the specifics straight first,” Maelgwn told him, giving his shoulder one last squeeze before releasing him. He winked as he tipped his head toward Conchlin’s tray. “Enjoy your breakfast. I’ll catch up with you in a while.”

  Conchlin watched his chieftain walk away, doing his best to stifle his curiosity. Turning back to the drink bar, he picked up his tray and headed toward the exit. He reached it just as it opened and paused as he waited for Grigoris, the estate’s mechanic, to enter. The dark-gray hided gargoyle swept his gaze over him, then stepped backward, holding the door open for him.

  Smiling in thanks, Conchlin exited the dining hall and turned in the direction of the infirmary. Hearing Grigoris’s deep rumbly voice call from behind him, he paused and turned.

  “Heard congrats are in order, Conchlin.”

  Unable to think of the last time Grigoris had spoken to him let alone acknowledged him, it took Conchlin a second to find his voice. “O-Oh, yes.”

  Grigoris actually sort of smiled. “Congrats. Everyone deserves a little happiness.” Then he nodded and continued on his way.

  Conchlin watched the door close, amazement flooding him. Wow! He grinned and headed down the hall. The man was such a hermit, happy to hide in his garage and tinker with everyone’s vehicles. Conchlin knew the gargoyle had recently mated to a human, so maybe he was coming out of his shell more.

  Finally reaching his mate’s room, Conchlin saw the cracked door and pushed it open with his shoulder. The bed was empty, and the bathroom door was closed. He crossed to the sideboard and placed the tray on it.

  Conchlin had just finished lifting the lids of the plates and setting them aside when a pair of thick arms wrapped around his waist. The musky scent of his mate filled his nostrils, flooding him with arousal. He gasped as the skin of his nape goose bumped when he felt Baron nuzzle his neck.

  “H-Hey,” Conchlin murmured, surprised and pleased at the unexpected move. Tipping his head, he offered Baron more room at his neck as well as allowing him to look at his mate. “How are you feeling?”

 

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