When No Doesn't Cut It

by Lisa Oliver

  “Well there’s your answer. God, Damien you are usually a lot more onto it than this.”

  “WHAT?” Damien roared. He really didn’t need Malacai to be any more cryptic than he was being - he wanted an answer to his problem.

  “It’s simple. Get to know the man. Tell him you will accept his terms and you will allow him to claim you within, say a month. Do you have a problem with wearing his mating mark?”

  “No, of course not,” Damien said. A mating mark was a badge of honor and was always worn with pride. While it was also a sign of being claimed in a sexual way, Damien didn’t have a problem with people thinking he had taken it up the ass. He just didn’t want to actually do it. Malacai was right in one respect. He was Damien, damn it, and what he did in the privacy of his bedroom was his business.

  “So there you are. Go and see him. Tell him you will allow him to bite you like you did him, and that then you want him to come back here, so the two of you can get to know each other. The mating bond will ensure he will be underneath you soon enough, and if you feel you still can’t let him top you within the month, then hopefully he will be that attached to you he won’t push the issue.”

  Malacai paused and then added, “It would also help, after you do get to know this guy a bit better, if you actually explained to him what your concerns about being topped are. It is the kind of thing mates share with each other,” Malacai concluded.

  Damien sat thinking about what Malacai said. He had heard that some mates died if they weren’t with each other, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Scott was coping any better than he was with their separation. Damien had tried phoning Shawn and Kane a couple of times to find out how Scott was doing, but both men told him politely and firmly it was no longer his concern. The Cloverleah pack had rallied around their pack member and he had no way in. Or did he?

  “Can you call Lucius and Vincent in here please, and yes I want you to stay,” Damien ordered. Moments later both men were standing in front of Damien’s desk and he waved at them to sit down.

  “Have either of you heard from anyone in the Cloverleah pack since we’ve been back,” he asked bluntly. Vincent was Kane’s brother and Lucius had been to the Cloverleah pack twice before; first for Kane and Shawn’s Alpha Mating Ritual, where he had met Vincent, and then for Griff and Diablo’s Mating challenge.

  Lucius and Vincent looked at each other and then Lucius said, “Yes Alpha.” But he didn’t say anything more.

  “And what’s the news from the Cloverleah pack, Lucius?”

  “Erm…” Lucius stuttered for a moment, then he sat up straighter and said, “Griff and Diablo’s wedding in New York is scheduled for two weeks time. Vincent and I were hoping to get leave to attend. Kane and Shawn are doing well now Bruce has been killed. Troy is still waiting to hear news that his intended mate has come back from wherever he is and…the rest are fine.”

  Damien roared, leaping up from his desk and grabbing Lucius by the throat, lifting him from his seat. “Damn it Lucius, you know I want to hear about Scott. How. Is. My. Mate?” He growled squeezing harder on Lucius’s neck.

  “Let him go, Damien,” Malacai said quietly. “He can’t answer you if you crush his windpipe.”

  “Scott’s not good,” Vincent admitted quietly as Damien let go of Lucius, allowing the man to collapse back into his chair. “But he doesn’t want you to know, so Kane asked us to not say anything to you.”

  “Why hasn’t anyone told me this before now,” Damien growled.

  “Look Alpha,” Vincent said nervously, throwing a look at Malacai as he spoke. “The Cloverleah pack is different from other packs. The two mated pairs are both double mated. They don’t have the same ideas about hierarchy and status like this pack. They’re a family and so they are all intensely loyal to each other. Kane is my brother, so they are my family as well. If Scott didn’t want you to know that he’s sick then it wasn’t my business to tell you.”

  “Scott didn’t want you going to him unless you were prepared to accept his terms, no matter how sick he might get. His pack believe in things like love, and caring for a mate, and those concepts totally supersede any ideas about pack status and things like that,” Lucius explained. “That’s why we didn’t tell you. Firstly because Scott didn’t want you to know, and secondly because…well at the risk of getting my head ripped off, you are not the most loving or caring of people, Alpha.”

  “Great,” said Damien. “We’re getting off track here. You are sitting there talking to me about love and shit, and all I want is my mate here with me.”

  “Scott won’t back down from what he said,” Lucius said. “Even though he’s dying, he won’t back down.”

  “DYING!”

  “Kane thinks the only reason Scott is still alive is because of Troy. But Troy’s mate will be back in the country within a month, and all of the pack members think Scott will be dead by then. Shawn even tried to break the mating bond, but he couldn’t find a way to do it, and Scott wouldn’t let him try anything.”

  “But how can he be dying? Shit we didn’t even have sex.” Damien couldn’t work it out. Surely they weren’t bonded enough to cause Scott to literally give up the ghost.

  “You’re dying too, Damien,” Malacai said bluntly. “You’re just too thick to see it. When was the last time you ate a meal, or got some sleep? You are a mess, and from what you tell me, you’re a lot bigger and stronger than your mate. So why does it surprise you that he is suffering more than you are?”

  Damien dropped his head to his desk and banged his forehead on it firmly. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! He was going to Cloverleah. He would agree to whatever Scott wanted. It wasn’t because Scott was sick. It was because he couldn’t live without the man. It was that simple, and when Damien got that clear in his head then staying away from the man was just plain stupid.

  Decision made, Damien hit the speaker phone button on his phone and dialed Kane. When the man answered, Damien said formally, “Damien here, Alpha of the San Antonio pack, requesting permission to visit Cloverleah lands and the pack house.”

  “For what purpose?” Kane’s voice was equally formal and polite.

  Swallowing hard, Damien said, “I am prepared to accept Scott’s terms for mating, and want permission to come and take him back to my pack lands with me.”

  “Oh thank God.” Formality gone, the relief in Kane’s voice evident. “You’d better make it quick Damien. Scott’s not well and I am not sure how much longer he can last. We’ve been worried sick about him.”

  “I can be there in 24 hours,” Damien said.

  “I can get you here in less than two minutes,” Kane responded. “Shawn can zap you here, and then the pair of you back to Texas when you’re ready. It would be best if you were prepared to spend one night here at the pack house with us, as it’s going to take a bit of time for Scott to recover enough to travel. Can you do that?”

  “For my mate I can do anything,” Damien responded quietly, realizing as he said the words they were actually true.

  “How long do you need to get ready?” Kane asked. “Shawn is with Scott now, but I can get him as soon as you are ready to travel, Shawn-style.”

  Damien looked down at his dirty clothes. He hadn’t had a shower in days and he knew he looked a mess. He wasn’t going to his mate looking like a wreck.

  “Give me thirty minutes. I’ll give you a call when I am ready to be transported,” he said firmly, feeling more like the Damien of old than he had done all week.

  “Thank you Damien,” Kane said quietly, “I don’t know what we would have done if Scott had died.”

  “I would have come sooner if I had known about this,” Damien snapped. “I wouldn’t have left if I thought this could happen.”

  “Your mate is stronger than you know, Damien. Don’t underestimate him, or the power of our pack bond. Scott didn’t want you informed and we respected his wishes even though it was killing us too. So get off your high horse, Damien. Accept that you should never have lef
t him and fix this.” Kane was equally snappish.

  But then his voice changed into calmer tones, “You know Damien, Shawn has always told me what a good and decent man you are. How about you and I put aside our differences and work on what needs fixing?”

  Taking a deep breath to calm his own nerves, Damien said quietly, “Agreed. I will be ready in thirty minutes. And thank you Kane. I am in your debt.”

  Kane laughed tersely. “Well that might be handy one day. See you shortly Damien,” and he hung up.

  Damien looked up from the phone to see Malacai, Lucius, and Vincent watching him nervously. For the first time in a week he smiled.

  “I shall be out of the office for twenty four hours. Malacai, you are in charge of the pack and the club while I am gone. Lucius go to my apartment and pack me an overnight bag and bring it back here. Vincent, go to the kitchen and have the chef prepare me a large steak, quickly. I want it here on my desk in ten minutes. And Malacai, you may inform the pack that when I return, I will be holding a mandatory pack meeting. Schedule it for six o’clock tomorrow night. Close the club to all non-pack members for that night.”

  “Yes, Alpha,” all three men chorused as they scrambled to do Damien’s bidding. Malacai lingered by the door for just a moment, looking Damien in the eye. “Nice to have you back Alpha,” he said as he went out of the door.

  Damien went through to the well-equipped bathroom that was beside his office. As he readied himself for a shower and shave, he hummed to himself. He was going to see his mate. He was going to bring the man home with him to his pack. Yes, there might be the little topping matter to take care of, but for now Damien didn’t care. He wanted Scott. Fuck, he needed his mate, with the same fierce intensity that had been burning in him, since he met the man. And in thirty five minutes, come hell or high water, that man would be in his arms.

  Chapter Eight

  It was exactly thirty three minutes later that Damien quietly let himself into Scott’s room at the Cloverleah pack house. The room was darkened because the curtains were pulled across the windows, and Damien had to take a minute to let his eyes adjust. He could see Scott lying on his back, dressed in a pair of jeans and nothing else, on the bed with his eyes closed. The man was barely breathing and he didn’t appear to notice that someone had come into the room.

  Damien walked around the bed and sat down on the edge, close to Scott’s chest. He took one of Scott’s hands in his and rubbed it slowly, grateful for the touch no matter how slight. Scott’s hand felt cold, and given that wolf shifters usually ran hotter than humans, this was a sure sign that Scott was really sick. Damien stripped off his own shirt, intending to hug Scott close, to try and infuse some warmth and life into the man with his own body heat.

  Looking at his mate, Damien’s first thought was that there didn’t appear to be anything wrong with him. Scott’s perfect body still seemed as solid as ever, but as Damien looked closer, he could see that his mate’s face was pale, and there were deep, dark black circles under his eyes. When Damien moved closer, he noted the hollowed cheeks and the man’s breathing was really shallow. Scott wasn’t wasting away in the physical sense so much. He was literally waiting to die.

  “Scott,” he said in his deep rough voice. “Mate. I need you to wake up.”

  Although Scott kept his eyes closed, Damien could see a slight furrow in his forehead, like the man was trying to work something out.

  “Damn hallucinations,” Scott rasped out softly. “Heaven and hell all in one go.”

  “Scott, come on mate, I need you to wake up.” Damien tried again.

  “Auditory, olfactory, and tactile hallucinations no less. I hit the triffecta this time. Damn, but you smell good enough to be real,” Scott continued.

  “Scott, please I need you to open your eyes for me.”

  “Na ah,” Scott gave out a weak bark of a laugh, keeping his eyes firmly closed. “You catch me out with that every time. I open my eyes and pouf, you’re gone. Seems I can’t manage a visual hallucination to save my life. I’m going to enjoy this while I can. I can imagine what you look like.” He ran his hand up Damien’s arm and across solid pectoral muscles, causing tingles to go shooting to Damien’s groin. When Scott’s hand swept across Damien’s abs, they tightened and flexed seeking more of the sensuous touch.

  “Not one hair anywhere,” Scott murmured softly. “So damn hot.”

  His body on fire from that simple caress, Damien tried one last time. “Scott, I’m here. I am real. Please open your eyes and look at me.”

  “Not a chance,” Scott said giving a little laugh. “This is the best hallucination slash dream I’ve had yet. Now I wonder…” his hands going to the button on Damien’s jeans as his voice trailed off. Within seconds he had Damien’s jeans undone and a firm hand wrapped around Damien’s hot, needy cock.

  “Oh yes,” Scott rasped quietly, “as big as I imagined and so fucking hard.”

  “Scott.” Damien let out a tortured moan as Scott’s hand started to move, up and down his prick, catching the pre-come Damien was leaking copiously and using it to aid in his movements.

  Unable to sit still a minute longer, Damien bent and wrapped his arms firmly around Scott as the man still lay on the bed, forcing his lips over Scotts’, his tongue pushing its way in and plundering the man’s mouth. He was desperate to be inside of his mate in any way possible and his tongue in Scott’s mouth was a good start. After just a minute hesitation Scott responded, throwing himself urgently into the simple yet carnal act of kissing - his eyes still tightly closed, his hands still working their magic on Damien’s cock.

  Damien’s whole body came alive as he was swamped by the wonder that was his mate. The man’s touch, his taste, his smell, all worked together in perfect harmony, driving Damien to the point of release at a frantic pace. The hands on his cock were hard and firm, manipulating Damien’s need. Unable to help himself, Damien thrust up into those hands, twitching helplessly as Scott ran one hand over Damien’s sensitive cock head, dipping his fingernail into the tiny slit. Damien thrust his hips again and again, begging for more. And Scott gave it to him, his two hands playing Damien’s cock and slit until the bigger man wanted to beg to come.

  Wrenching his mouth from Scott, Damien growled against the man’s ear, “Bite me,” nudging Scott’s mouth to his neck. Scott inhaled deeply, as if to impregnate his mate’s smell deep inside his memory and then, eyes still tightly closed, Scott bit down hard, breaking the skin, and causing Damien’s blood to flow freely into his mouth. Damien’s nerve endings went into sensory overload and he roared as his climax ripped through his entire body and exploded from the end of his cock, still encased in Scott’s firm grasp. Seconds later, he felt Scott’s chest shudder against him as the man found his own release.

  /~/~/~/~/

  Scott was sure he was dreaming, yet again. It had happened often enough in the past few days. He would be lying quietly, just trying to hang onto his sanity and keep breathing, and he would imagine he could smell his mate. In the brief times when he slept, his dreams were assailed with intense carnal acts, all involving Damien. He would wake up alone, covered in his own semen, and curl up and weep as he was reminded yet again, that his mate was not with him.

  Personally, Scott didn’t know how much longer he could go on. His wolf had given up days before and was nothing more than a whimpering mess in his mind. To be rejected with such finality by his mate - although when Scott was being honest with himself he realized it was as much his rejection of Damien as the man’s rejection of him - broke his spirit and it was only Troy’s sheer determination, and the constant pressure from his pack that kept Scott breathing.

  Scott didn’t fear death. If anything, he welcomed it. To live without his mate was torture, pure and simple and although Scott knew he could survive, he quite honestly didn’t want to. His mate said ‘no’ to the one tiny condition he placed on their mating and sealed Scott’s fate. Now Scott waited to die so the torture would end. He knew his twin would
be with his own mate soon enough and would be taken care of. He just didn’t want to be around to see that happen.

  When the smell of his mate wafted over his senses this time he sighed to himself, recognizing this must be another dream. The details were sharper this time and as Scott sank himself into his fantasy, determined to enjoy it, he wondered if this time he would even wake up or if this was the finale before death. As his shattered soul soaked up the distinct smell that was all Damien, as his body responded to the imaginary touch, the kiss, he kept his eyes firmly closed determined not to lose this tenuous connection with his mate. Here in his dreams he had the lover he craved and he wasn’t going to miss a thing.

  The request to be bitten by his imaginary mate was a new thing, but Scott didn’t care. As he sank his long teeth into Damien’s neck and felt the man’s blood hit his tongue, his soul sang, his wolf came alive, and not for the first time Scott longed with everything that he was, that this dream was real.

  In the back of his consciousness he heard his bedroom door open and knew that his twin had entered the room. Well, he wasn’t waking up. Oh no. Damien’s chest was still pressed against his. Big, warm, and so solid and smelling of the sex they had shared. He wasn’t giving that up for his twin, no way.

  Then he heard Troy yelling, at Damien.

  “I can’t believe you are trying to have sex with my brother when he’s so sick.” Troy’s voice piercing his dream.

  “I’m not trying to have sex with him,” Damien’s deep voice grumbled. “As you can clearly see he instigated this. He thinks I’m a hallucination and I can’t get him to open his eyes.”

  “Well you should’ve tried harder.”

  Troy was still yelling. Why was Troy yelling at his imaginary mate? Troy couldn’t see Damien like he could. He couldn’t feel him, or touch him, or smell him like Scott could. So why…

  Scott forced his eyes open and they fell on the tortured countenance of his mate. Damien.