Marrick's Promise

Marrick’s Promise By Kim Dare

A Thrown to the Lions Story

Resplendence Publishing, LLC http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

Resplendence Publishing, LLC 2665 N Atlantic Avenue #349 Daytona Beach, FL 32118 Marrick’s Promise Copyright © 2010, Kim Dare Edited by Christine Allen-Riley Cover art by Les Byerley, www.les3photo8.com eBook formatting and conversion by JimandZetta.com Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-160.3 Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. Electronic release: June 2010 This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

To everyone who feels the fear and does it anyway.

Chapter One

As far as Marrick Powell was concerned, there was only one thing better than one naked man pressed intimately against his skin, and that was two naked bodies, completely surrounding him with a solid wall of heat and strength. Lions…the very thought of the shifters had kept him hard ever since the guys at the pub had first put him, bound and blindfolded, in the back of the limo. The reality of it was so much better than any of the possibilities his imagination had managed to cook up—especially since there seemed to be a fantastic buy one get one free offer on werelions that night. Rough gravel bit into Marrick’s feet as he wriggled between the two shifters, but that wasn’t important. His squirming informed him that the guy behind him was just as hard as he was. Sore feet couldn’t compete with that sort of knowledge. Arching his back, he explored the other man as best he could while his hands were still bound behind his back. The man…the lion…the…whatever the hell he should be called, was all gloriously hard muscle. Marrick pushed his arse back in encouragement as the tip of the other guys cock nudged against the cleft between his buttocks. Someone purred in his ear. Rough palms slid down his arms. Another set of equally demanding hands slid up his chest, exploring him as if it was their right—as if he’d given them that right when he agreed to be their human sacrifice for the night. Marrick grinned blindly into the night air as an extra shot of adrenaline raced through his veins as the truth of his situation sunk in. He redoubled his efforts to explore the other men in return. Great builds, equally impressive cocks—there were some things he was soon certain of. But the men could still have been twins for all Marrick was able to tell them apart through his blindfold. They moved around him, caressing and assessing him, changing places with each other until he had no idea which man had originally been where. A tiny part of him cared which man was which. Most of him really didn’t give a damn. It wasn’t as if he was ever going to see their faces, as if he’d ever meet them again. The pure anonymity of it all made his heart race faster, his body arch into their touch even more eagerly.

Bungee jumping had been a rush. White water rafting better than he’d ever imagined it could be. But, in that moment, Marrick knew that being thrown to the lions was easily going to be the best thing he’d ever tick off the extensive list of things he was determined to squeeze into his life. Even the whips wielded by the local doms couldn’t compete with the endorphins just being close to the lions sent swirling through him. One of Marrick’s soon to be lovers purred his approval against his neck as Marrick managed to force his restrained hands into a position where he could wrap his fist around the shifter’s cock. He was just like a very well hung human—except for the fact his whole body was hotter than any man Marrick had ever known. The cool air that blew across the driveway didn’t seem to worry either shifter. Caught between them, Marrick found himself content to let the party start wherever the hell they wanted it too. Gravel marks on his knees probably wouldn’t be that much more painful than carpet burns, and if the sharp little stones broke the skin, Marrick gave a mental shrug—he knew he’d enjoy looking at the scars when the blindfold came off. “Inside—all of you!” The voice didn’t come from either of his new friends. Disorientated from the lions’ inspection of him, Marrick could only assume it originated from inside the house. He moaned his disapproval as the other men slipped away from him, leaving him with nothing more than their hands gripping his arms as they led him forward. He stumbled along between them, into the mild warmth of one room, then into the heat of another. The softness of a rug under his feet tempered his silent curses a little. He’d had gravel rash a time or two when his faith in his mountain biking ability wasn’t matched by his actual talent—it hadn’t been a particularly erotic sort of pain. A rug would probably be more fun. Besides, they had the whole evening. No point staying out there the whole time and catching a chill… The hands on Marrick’s arms remained long after they came to a halt. It didn’t take him long to realize that all three of them were facing someone else now. Marrick tried to get a sense of the room and who might be studying him and his new friends. He had the distinct impression he was being inspected, but it was nothing like feeling a voyeur’s gaze traverse his skin—he’d felt that often enough in the clubs. The gaze felt more like the way he imagined a betting man might judge the worth of a boxer about to step into the ring.

It was impersonal, practical, and had a strange way of making a man hope it would declare him up to scratch for the bout. “I take it there’s no need to ask if you two are interested in him.” The voice was deep and rich, and whoever it belonged to wasn’t making any attempt to hide his amusement. Marrick grinned, guessing the other two men were still just as hard as he was. “Yes,” someone said to his left. The man on his right said nothing. Marrick could only hope that was because he’d offered up a silent nod instead. “He’ll probably enjoy himself far more if you leave his arms in working order.” A hint of seriousness crept into the voice facing them. The hands on his arms instantly eased their grips. Behind the blindfold, Marrick frowned. They’d felt pretty bloody good as they were. The grips didn’t tighten again, but the men’s hold did alter as he felt someone step in front of him. Barely a fraction of a moment later, the other man’s hand slid against his skin and Marrick felt the second shifter move behind him. “Manners, Luther,” the deep, serious voice bit out. The lion in front of Marrick pulled back a little as he seemed to hesitate. “If you say ‘sword’, we have to let you go.” The words were little more than a rough purr. The still un-named lion behind Marrick lined his body up against him, pressing a hard shifter-cock against his arse. “If you don’t say it, we can do whatever we want with you.” His voice was harsher, and dominant enough to send an expectant thrill down Marrick’s spine. He waited impatiently for one of the men to move. The entire room seemed to hold its breath, waiting with him. A full minute passed. “They won’t do anything until you give them your answer.” That was the deeper voice again. Marrick blinked in the darkness behind the blindfold as he realized they weren’t waiting with him, but for him. “I understand. Safe word’s sword. Got it.” The words before hadn’t been a purr. The noise the shifter in front of him made as he brought their lips together was a purr. The vibrations shot down Marrick’s spine and rushed straight to his cock, making him moan as he parted his lips and invited the other man to deepen the kiss. Once more surrounded by naked skin as the shifter behind him pulled him closer, Marrick rocked his hips rubbing his arse against one lion, his cock against the other, and any bit of skin he could, against any available portion of the other men’s bodies.

Tugging at the bindings around his wrists, he tried to work out if he could squirm his way out of the cuffs. The blindfold was fair enough. Anonymity—a few hours stolen away from the real world where a man could do whatever the hell he liked and never have to face the other guy, or guys, in the morning. He was all on board for that. The blindfold was hot. The cuffs were just bloody well annoying. Either the lions didn’t notice that he was trying to get rid of them, or they didn’t care. The lion in front of him, the one called Luther, broke the kiss. A moment later Marrick’s face was turned, his mouth captured by another eager pair of lips. A rough tongue thrust into his mouth demanding to taste him. Marrick’s tongue stroked against the shifter’s, eagerly sparring with him as he tried to explore the other man’s mouth in return. The lion slid his hands into Marrick’s hair as they fought each other for control of the kiss, but the shifter’s grip on him provided scant advantage, especially when he kind of liked the way the guy tugged at the short black strands. Marrick was almost as good at controlling a kiss as the other guy—almost. Pleasure rushed through him as the other guy wrangled control from him and refused to give any scrap of it back. As one kiss was broken and the other lion took his turn possessing Marrick’s mouth, one of the shifters wrapped his fingers around Marrick’s cock. His grip was strong, his strokes rapid, but at the same time, he could tell the other man was holding back on him, gentling his touch when he could easily have been rougher. Sod that. There was no way he was going to stand for being treated like some fragile little princess. That wasn’t what he’d signed up for. He could hold his own in the best leather clubs in the city, and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t do the same in the lions’ den too. Shrugging his shoulders, shaking off the lion behind him, he leaned up and blindly fought for control of the kiss from the shifter before him. Luther seemed a little startled, it took him a second to catch up and try to snatch control back from him. His grip tightened around his cock. The lion behind him caught hold of him, as if he sensed the change in his attitude too. Sharp points, like the tips of claws, caught at his skin biting into his sides. Marrick moaned his approval against the other lion’s lips as he pictured the marks they might leave on him if they really were claws. The second’s distraction was all Luther needed to

regain dominance of the kiss. A second later, Marrick felt them all being lowered onto the rug. His knees hit the floor with a bump. Hands stroked down his back, pushing him forward, toward Luther. Two lions had to mean there were only four hands exploring his body. It felt like more. There was no way a simple little threesome—even a threesome with an audience—should be able to make him so hard, so desperate to come. As Marrick’s head was pulled around for another kiss from the man behind him, he felt two mouths caress his lips at the same time. The lions’ lips met and for a second, he was forgotten about. Marrick gasped for breath, wishing the leather blindfold away, just for a few moments, just for long enough to see the kiss. Muscular bodies pinned him between them, as hands slid past Marrick and found their way onto the lions’ skin instead. Perhaps he wouldn’t mind sneaking a peak at some bits of the lions other than their mouths if he ever got the chance… His fumbling hands managed to wrap around the cock behind him. One of the lions purred into the kiss but it was impossible to tell which one. They pulled each other closer, trapping him, making it almost impossible for him to draw breath. Lowering his head, Marrick found a lion’s shoulder with his lips. He pressed a kiss against the lion’s skin and butted his head against the other man’s shoulder, trying to push him far enough away that he could kiss his way down to the shifter’s cock. It took the lion a lifetime to realize what he was trying to do. He pulled away. Marrick didn’t waste any time. He’d had enough of cocks rubbing against him. He needed to taste one. Blindly sensing the lion’s retreat, he leaned forward and down, mouth already open as he licked his lips in anticipation. The lion behind him caught his hips just in time to stop him falling face first into the rug. Another pair of hands settled on his shoulders, steadying him perfectly. Leaning further, Marrick finally found the tip of the other man’s shaft. He wrapped his lips around it, murmuring his satisfaction as he felt pre-cum leak onto his tongue. One of the hands on his arse disappeared for a moment. Off balance already, Marrick felt the entire weight of his torso fall into the hands of the man in front of him. The guy seemed strong enough—and he was about to get a very good blow job. All things considered, Marrick decided not to feel too guilty for letting the other guy bear his weight for a little while.

Slicked fingers slid down between his arse cheeks. He immediately pushed back against them, encouraging the shifter behind him as he let Luther feel the full vibrations of his pleasure. The first touch against his hole was gentle, cautious, as if the lion half expected him to freak out from nothing more than a few fingers. Marrick groaned his frustration, desperate to tell him to hurry the hell up, but not wanting to let the cock in his mouth slip away for long enough to get the words out. Finally, his mumbled demands seemed to get through to the lion. A rapidly increasing number of digits thrust into him, hard and fast, preparing him as quickly as possible. The fingertips rubbed against his prostate, making him squirm and suck the other man’s cock more deeply into his mouth. Just as they found the perfect spot, they disappeared altogether. The tip of a cock pressed against him in their place. A lifetime had passed since he was ready to feel the shifter’s cock plow into him, but it was still just a fraction too soon for a red flag not to go up inside his head. He pulled back from the cock between his lips. “Condom.” “What?” The shifter behind him asked. “Condom,” Marrick repeated, unable to stop himself running his tongue up the other man’s shaft the moment the second syllable had left his lips. “We don’t need—” “You do if you want to screw me.” It was hard to sound determined and unswayable, while also trying to gasp for breath and simultaneously lick cock, but Marrick did his best. The lion behind him let out a frustrated little snarl, obviously not impressed. But Marrick felt the shifter pull away, and heard him scrambling around for something. A moment later, the sound of a condom wrapper tearing made it to his ears. He shuffled his knees a little further apart on the rug in praise of the other man seeing sense. Luther Channing watched as the other lion rolled the latex down his shaft. Blaine didn’t look happy with the sacrifice’s insistence on a barrier existing between them. Luther couldn’t really blame him. For once, Luther didn’t find himself wishing that it had been his turn to have the pleasure of burying himself inside the sacrifice’s hole. The younger man’s mouth wrapped itself even more tightly around his shaft as Blaine smeared extra lube onto his condom. There was nothing between Luther and the human’s talented tongue—and he’d be the only lion who was able to mark their lover properly that night.

He couldn’t hold back a satisfied purr as the man dipped his head lower over his crotch, taking his bare cock deeper inside him, until the tip nudged at the back of his throat. This sacrifice didn’t pull back the way some humans did. He took him into his throat as if it was the easiest thing in the world, as if there wasn’t anything he’d like better than to take a potential master so far into him no one would ever be able to work out where the master ended and his pet started. Pulling back slowly, the smaller man, seemed determined to explore every inch of the shaft filling his mouth with his tongue. His cheeks hollowed out below the line of the blindfold as he created a snug little vacuum around Luther. The man had no way of supporting himself, but he leaned into his temporary master’s hold as if he knew he could trust him. Luther stroked his thumbs along the other man’s shoulders as he held him steady and secure. There was no nervousness in the other man’s scent, only pleasure. Luther could only guess that was why this man felt different to all the others. A moment later, Blaine settled his hands on the younger man’s flanks once more, adding his support to Luther’s, as he offered the head of his latex covered cock up to the human’s slicked hole. Being caught between two lions didn’t worry him either. His scent remained all delight. This time, he didn’t pull away. Blaine purred his satisfaction as he pushed forward, sliding gradually into him. Every muscle in the other lion’s body tensed, and Luther knew Blaine was entering the other man as slowly and as carefully as he knew how. Eons seemed to float by before he was buried inside him to the hilt. Luther held his breath with his lover as he watched the other lion force himself to remain perfectly still as the seconds passed. The human rocked slightly between them. His buttocks clenched. Luther could easily imagine the pleasure that shot through Blaine as the man’s hole tightened around his cock, begging him to move properly inside him. A frustrated whimper escaped from the back of the human’s throat, surrounding Luther’s cock with pure bliss as his tongue continued to feast upon the head, lapping up any taste he could get of his master for the night. Luther couldn’t hold back a purr of satisfaction, but he forced himself to stay still, too, knowing any movement on his part would make it harder for Blaine to remain motionless. The

man’s scent filled his head, calling to him in a way he’d never experienced before, making it harder and harder to remain frozen in place. Finally, Blaine seemed to sense the human was ready. He began to rock his hips, just a little, testing what their new lover could take. As the sacrifice accepted everything Blaine could give him, Luther let his own hips rock a little. A pleased little noise filled the air. Looking down, Luther watched his shaft emerge from the other man’s mouth, then disappear back inside him as he thrust forward again. The human dipped his head in counter point, encouraging him on. Luther thrust into his mouth again, harder this time, faster, as rough as he dared be with a human. Lifting his gaze, Luther stared across at Blaine. The other shifter looked up at the same moment. Leaning forward, they brought their lips together. There was no need to be gentle with another lion. Their tongues dueled as they fought for control of the kiss. Luther nipped at the other man’s bottom lip, pulling a purr from him, as Blaine’s teeth scraped against his tongue in return. Luther pulled back then. His hips rocked as he thrust into their new friend’s mouth one last time. The younger man moaned his pleasure around his shaft. The vibrations were all it took to push Luther over the edge. Tossing his head back, Luther roared as pure perfection rushed through him, making it impossible to think. His claws scratched at the human’s shoulders, pulling him closer as he came. Feeling him spill into his mouth seemed to trigger the younger man’s orgasm. Their human lover jerked between them as Blaine thrust into him once more. He sucked hard around Luther’s shaft as Blaine buried himself deep inside their new lover when he came, just a moment after them, as if he was unable to hold back a moment longer as his eyes feasted on their pleasure. For what felt like a lifetime, they all seemed to remain frozen where they were, in one moment of perfect bliss. Luther stared at both men. Blaine was glorious in his pleasure. His eyes shone with satisfaction as he blinked them open. For just a second, all the tension that usually flooded the other lion’s body was gone. He was all contentment. Eventually, Luther sensed the other lion return to reality and pull back. He knew he had to force himself to move away from the sacrifice too. More reluctant than he had ever been to end his time with a human, he withdrew his shaft from between the smaller man’s lips. For a moment, the other man’s mouth worked the empty air before his lips slowly came back together.

It wasn’t easy to bring them all up onto their feet. Their new human, still blindfolded and bound, had even less coordination than they did. Out of the corner of his eye, Luther saw Arslan studying them. When their gazes met, the leader of their pride smiled slightly before he turned his attention away from them and signaled for the other lions to bring in the food. Putting that strange little smile out of his mind, Luther helped Blaine guide their prize to one of the big leather sofas that flanked the fire place. He knew the other lion well enough to know that Blaine was just as determined as he was, that none of the other lions should be allowed to take a turn with him. This man was theirs, and he seemed willing enough to go where he was led, until they settled him between them. Then the human moved as if to shuffle away from them both. “You have to rest now,” Luther told him. The other man didn’t take the least notice of the very clear command. Frowning, Luther put his hand in the center of the human’s torso and pushed him back toward Blaine. The younger man lost his balance, landing heavily against the other shifter’s chest. Blaine’s arm wrapped around him and held him there, settled neatly against him. Luther watched him for a moment, just in case he should try to make another bid to wander off, toward where the other lions in the pride would be happy to receive him. He stayed where he was. Nodding his approval, Luther turned his attention to the trays of food. Arslan had started the feast, and the other lions were already helping themselves to their shares. Piling one plate high with enough for three, Luther carried it back to the sofa and took his place on it with Blaine and their temporary pet. He seemed to have that awkward way that all humans had, as if he didn’t really understand the way limbs should be rearranged when men were trying to share their space comfortably with each other. Blaine’s repeated nudging finally formed him into a vaguely appropriate shape. Luther nodded his approval. Taking a piece of meat from the plate, he tried to offer it to the man, but he pulled away as soon it touched his lips. “It’s chicken. You’ll like it.” The human hesitated, a trace of uncertainty making its way into his scent, but he opened his mouth and let Luther feed the piece of meat to him. “Thank you.”

Blaine smiled at Luther over the man’s shoulder as he took a piece off the plate for himself. His other hand stroked over the other man’s body. Luther traced his fingertip movements with his eyes. There was a smudge of cum on his stomach. Leaning down, Luther lapped it up. The other man seemed to have some sort of instinct, even if it wasn’t a proper lion’s intuition. He curled in on himself the moment Luther’s tongue touched his stomach. The move was too instant to be borne of any thought process. It had to be instinct, if a rather strange one. Luther looked past him to Blaine. His lover seemed to be both as bemused and amused as he was. “There was cum on your stomach. It gets sticky if you leave it there,” Luther explained patiently. “Sorry. Tickles,” the human said. Luther lowered his head and licked the same spot on his stomach. The human stayed still that time, but his whole body tensed. He bit his lip as if he was really having to fight against the desire to move. Luther ran his tongue over the little patch of skin again, quietly fascinated. “Just there?” Luther asked. The human shrugged as well as any man could while his hands were behind his back. Luther licked a little lower on his stomach, just to see what would happen. Nothing. He lapped lower again, making his way toward the other man’s cock. He received no response until the pet gasped when Luther ran his tongue over the length of the softened shaft from tip to base. Some of the sleepy contentment that seemed to have flooded into him after he came vanished. “Does that tickle too?” Blaine asked behind him. The human shook his head. “No, that’s fine. Lick there as much as you like.” Luther smiled against his shaft. In some ways, humans really weren’t that different from lions. Content with his explorations for the moment, he straightened up and returned his attention to the food. Very slowly, the contents of the plate disappeared. Their new friend liked to be told what was being offered to his lips before it was put into his mouth. Once that was established, it was far easier to feed him. In between, he seemed to be happy to allow them to explore his body any way they chose. In an absent minded way, Luther was aware that the other lions hadn’t disappeared. They were still in the room. He could hear Arslan talking to them, but right then he had little interest

in what the rest of the pride might have to report. Their new friend was infinitely more fascinating. He called to Luther’s instincts in a way none of the other humans who had been sacrificed to him had. He sensed the same interest in Blaine’s actions. “Luther, Blaine. Do either of you have anything to say?” Luther shook his head, all his attention on their friend’s reactions as he trailed his finger nails along his skin. Blaine didn’t say anything either. Arslan didn’t try to draw them out the way he sometimes did. They were left in peace to explore their new lover’s body as their leader’s attention moved on to the other lions. “Are you going to take the cuffs off at any point?” their human asked, sometime later. Luther tilted his head to one side as he thought about the possibility. The man’s hands were still bound behind his back. He couldn’t reach out to his lovers the way they could. “We don’t do that,” Blaine said from behind the other man. Luther met his lover’s eyes. What he said was true. The lions didn’t free their humans’ hands or their eyes. Except when Ryland was thrown to Arslan of course, but that was different—Ryland was Arslan’s mate now, and…Luther turned his attention back to their blindfolded friend. “It’s late. The car’s outside waiting for him.” Luther turned and looked up at Arslan. The other members of the pride were still lingering around, but they were obviously ready to leave, and were only waiting for the sacrifice to be properly freed before they returned to their own homes. Luther was in the best position to untangle himself from the other men’s limbs. He stepped forward to face their leader. Lacking any inclination to free the other man, the solution seemed obvious to him. “We can—” “He leaves with the driver,” Arslan cut in. Luther glared up at the older lion. “You—” Arslan raised an eyebrow. “If you’d known him before he arrived here, perhaps that would change things, but you didn’t, did you?” Luther had never been more tempted to lie to the leader of the pride. He might even have given in to the idea if he’d thought there was the least chance Arslan would believe him. But he’d proved to be impossible to fool so often, Luther knew it would only waste time. Not even able to complain that the older lion hadn’t known Ryland before that night when he’d been thrown to them, he turned away from his leader and strode back to the sofa.

“The car’s here.” Blaine hesitated before he let their pet go, but as his eyes met Luther’s over the man’s shoulder, he seemed to accept the fact they had little option. He let Luther help the other man to his feet. The walk to the car that delivered and collected the sacrifices from their doorstep had never felt shorter. It had never been harder to make sure his grip on the other man stayed gentle either. The instinct to hold on to the man and damn the consequences hadn’t been that strong since that first disastrous night when they’d first tried to accept a human’s sacrifice. Even after the years that had passed since then, Luther could still taste the blood in his mouth as he thought about it. He pushed the memory away as hard as he could, but it was impossible to hide from the fact that putting the younger man in the back of another person’s car felt as if it were as much a betrayal of the trust a human had put in them as hurting that first man had been. From the way Blaine slammed the limo door, he felt the same way. As Luther walked back to the doorstep with Blaine, he felt the tension pouring off the other lion, sensed the pain at seeing the other man ride away from them gave him. Even when the car was far out of sight, they continued to watch the road he’d been driven down as if that meant he’d somehow be less gone than he was. Finally Luther moved. Sliding his arms around Blaine’s waist, he pulled the other lion back to rest against him. “You didn’t want to let him go either?” Blaine asked. It was only half a question. Luther had no doubt his lover already knew the answer, but he gave it anyway. “No.” Blaine’s body moved against his as he took a deep breath and let it out very slowly, almost like a sigh. Luther lapped gently at his neck, unable to hold back his smile. “Do you remember when Arslan went to discuss how humans should be treated when they agreed to be thrown to us, when he went to visit the man who arranges the sacrifices?” Blaine shrugged. “Do you know how to find that man?” Blaine turned around within the circle of Luther’s arms. “You do.” His eyes sparkled with renewed pleasure as he realized it.

Luther smiled. The knowledge hadn’t made it as easy to let go of the sacrifice as it should have, but it would certainly make him much easier to track down again.

Chapter Two

“You’re sure he came in here?” “Yes.” Blaine rose onto his toes, trying to look over the crowd of men and spot one head of short dark hair among the masses. It should have been easier to catch sight of him than it was. Ever since they’d managed to drag the human’s—to drag Marrick’s—location out of the human who’d arranged for him to be thrown to them, watching him wander through mobs had become second nature. He’d definitely seen Marrick disappear into the club. Blaine had no doubt about that—he was just as certain that he hated the fact. Turning around, he searched through the shadows on the other side of the room. Their pet had been out of their sight for far too long. It wasn’t right for him to be alone in the stifling hot darkness. There were too many other men there. The scent of sex hanging in the air was far too strong. Marrick had come there looking for another man to mate with. Blaine bit back a snarl as he turned to scan another part of the room. He collided with a human moving in the opposite direction. The man seemed about to say something. Blaine’s snarl hit the air before he had a chance. The man took refuge in silence as he twisted away from him and hurried through a doorway on the far side of the room. It was possible that Marrick had taken the same route. Blaine strode through the arched doorway. The room was slightly less crowded. It was possible to get a better impression of the men in there. Those who wore clothes wore leather. Those who didn’t wear clothes wore strips of leather made into harnesses and restraints. Some of the cuffs and blindfolds looked a little like those the human’s who came to their den wore. Blaine frowned. Humans being thrown to lions made sense. That was the way things were supposed to be. Humans being thrown to other humans was wrong. Humans weren’t lions—they wouldn’t know how to treat the other men’s sacrifices properly.

Luther’s hand grabbed his shoulder. Blaine turned to his friend. Without warning, the other lion’s claws cut through his jacket and scraped against his skin. Quickly tracing Luther’s gaze, Blaine saw a huge television screen, just visible through another doorway. It showed a man bound to a diagonal cross. It showed Marrick. Their pet was displayed plainly on the screen, thick black cuffs around his wrists and ankles. Another man was tightening one of the buckles, trapping their pet a little more firmly under a stranger’s control. Blaine strode forward, his claws already starting to show. Luther was only a pace behind him as he entered the room. A loud crack filled the air. On the screen, a whip land against Marrick’s back, painting a pale red line of pain against his skin. Frantic glances around the room, showed that the image of the man was there, but not the man himself. “Where is that?” Luther demanded, pointing at the screen. There were men in there, tangled together, touching each other, kissing each other as they watched the screen as if it was okay for the man on there to hurt Marrick however he pleased, as if they enjoyed watching it. None of them answered the other lion. Grabbing the nearest man’s arm, Blaine pulled him around to face him. “Where?” The word was barely more than a snarl. The guy eyes opened very wide as he pointed through yet another set of double doors. Luther and Blaine burst through them, just as the whip snapped against Marrick’s skin again. Their human was on the far side of the room, on a stage, the camera a few yards away, focused directly on his back. Another, older human stood to Marrick’s left, whip in hand. He raised it again. As Blaine watched, frozen in horror, the whip cracked across Marrick’s back even harder than before. Marrick’s head dropped back as his whole body tensed. Even on the other side of the room, Blaine heard his gasp. The pet’s hands formed into fists above his cuffs. The tiny movement threw Blaine back into the real world. He marched across the room, fighting to keep his claws in check, knowing he’d need his hands in their human shape when he reached for the buckles that bound Marrick to the cross. Luther had no such concerns. He launched himself onto the stage in a blurring mix of half shifted lion and human. The man holding the whip hit the wall as Luther pounced on him. The impact knocked the length of braided leather out of his head. “What—?”

Luther, almost but not quite reverted to his human form, pinned the man to the wall. A snarl echoed around the room when the man tried to push him away—not the friendly sort of snarl that meant his normally easy going friend was grumbling about not getting his own way— the kind that meant he was on the verge of forgetting exactly why lions weren’t allowed to show the humans who was the top of the local food chain. “What’s going—?” Marrick began. “You’re safe now,” Blaine said, settling his hand on the small of their naked pet’s back, well below where the whip had cracked against his skin. “What the hell are you talking about?” Marrick looked over his shoulder, toward the man who’d been whipping him. “Where’s Huntley?” “We’re taking care of him,” Blaine reassured him. The sound of scuffling floated across the room, but Blaine took little notice of it. Luther was more than capable of dealing with one, relatively small, human on his own. Blaine had more important concerns, like the fear that flooded through their pet’s scent. As he stood close behind him, the other man’s fear over powered all the scents of leather and sex that filled the rest of club. Lifting his hand, Blaine gently traced the red lines that decorated the other man’s skin. There were almost like long scratches. He felt his hackles rise at any man hurting their lover, at any man leaving his mark on him—as if he thought Marrick could ever belong to anyone except him and Luther. Marrick met his eyes over his shoulder. Fear lurked in the deep brown eyes too, for all he was trying to hide it. Blaine stroked his fingertips down the other man’s cheek. He should never look scared—he should never need to be scared. “You’re safe now.” Marrick hesitated for a moment, as if he didn’t really believe him. “Okay,” he said. His voice was slightly off, almost as if he was humoring him. Blaine tilted his head slightly to one side as he tried to work out what was wrong. “You know what would make me feel really safe?” Marrick said after a few seconds. Blaine waited to be told. “You untying me.”

Blaine looked to the cuffs. He should have thought about that before. They weren’t like the cuffs he’d worn with the lions—they obviously meant something different here—something wrong. He reached for the first buckle. “Marrick?” Blaine looked over his shoulder. Several men stood in the doorway. None of them looked happy. Anger poured off them, clouding the room with their scent. Turning to face them, Blaine placed himself firmly between them and Marrick. A glance at Luther showed that his friend had also spotted them. The man he had pinned to the wall, seemed to sense his attention was split. He made a bid for freedom, but the other lion still held him easily in place. “Let him go.” Blaine looked across to the group of men again. One of them wore a red band around his arm with the letters DM emblazoned across it. He seemed to be the leader of the group. The others appeared to be waiting to see what he’d do, just as the lions in the pride watched Arslan. As Blaine spared a quick glance for the other shifter, Luther met his eyes. He shrugged slightly. Pulling the man away from the paintwork, he spun him around and pushed him toward the group. They’d get in trouble if they hurt him too badly, anyway. Returning him to his pride was their only real option. “Marrick?” The possible-leader asked again. “It’s fine,” Marrick said. “I’m fine. And he’s untying me. Right?” Blaine looked over his shoulder at their pet. “Right?” Marrick repeated, his voice just a little bit more strained. He couldn’t blame their pet for being scared of being bound before so many strangers. Blaine undid the cuff wrapped around his right wrist, never taking his attention away from crowd. Another cuff, then those around his ankles, until the last one fell away from Marrick’s skin. The younger man slowly turned away from the diagonal cross. For the first time, Blaine was able to look properly at his pet. “That’s good, Marrick.” One of the men on the other side of the room said. “Come here.” Blaine put his hand in the center of Marrick’s chest and pushed his pet gently back toward the wall when he would have tried to step around him.

Marrick looked up and met Blaine’s gaze. He smiled. But the smile was too broad, too forced. He didn’t actually look happy. His expression didn’t improve when Luther joined them on the stage. Even on the other side of the room, they could hear muttering between the humans that congregated behind their leader. The word lions floated across to them. “Lions,” Marrick echoed. “You’re the lions from…” Blaine tilted his head on one side as he studied him, wondering who the hell the other man had thought they were before. “You’re the damn lions!” Marrick muttered again. He looked from him to Luther and back again. Luther looked just as confused by his reaction as Blaine felt. Their pet took a deep breath, and let it out very slowly. His scent changed as the moments passed. The fear faded from him until it was hard to remember that it had ever existed. “You know them?” one of the men in the doorway asked. “Yes. No. I…” Marrick shook his head as he looked from Blaine to Luther and back again. “You’re them—you’re the lions I…” He lifted his hand and rubbed his fingers against his forehead. Leaving Luther to keep an eye on the other humans, Blaine gently moved the younger man’s hand away from his head and inspected the skin he’d rubbed at, trying to see if he was hurt. “Marrick, if this is part of some scene…” the lead human sounded angry now. Blaine snarled at him, unwilling to let anyone put a trace of fear back into their pet’s scent. “No. I had no idea—” “You’re not answerable to him.” Marrick was answerable to two people—him and Luther—no one else. Except possibly Arslan, some conscientious part of Blaine’s brain forced him to add. He was pretty sure the whole world was answerable to Arslan. “He’s the dungeon monitor,” Marrick said. Blaine looked across at the man in the doorway, not quite willing to admit complete ignorance of the term in front of either Marrick or the other men. A glance at Luther showed he had no more idea what the words meant than he did. “He makes sure no one gets hurt at the club,” Marrick explained. “You weren’t doing your job,” Luther quickly informed the monitor. “He was hurting Marrick.” He pointed out the man who’d held the whip.

“It was…” Marrick turned and looked up at him. For the first time he didn’t look confused as hell. “You thought he was hurting me...” “He was. We saw—” Marrick shook his head. “Arslan is on his way.” The words were whispered to the lead human—the dungeon whatever the hell he was called. It took the hearing of a cat to make it out, but Arslan’s name caught both his and Luther’s attention. They hadn’t done anything wrong. Arslan might not really approve of them being there, but he’d definitely approve of them stopping anyone hurting Marrick—Blaine had never been more certain of anything in his life. Humans had to be looked after—Arslan was the lion who taught them that in the first place. The dungeon monitor looked at the three of them, each in turn, as if he had no idea what to do with them. “They can’t stay in here,” one of the men whispered behind them. The monitor sighed. “You can wait for him in one of the back rooms,” he announced eventually. “We’re leaving,” Blaine said. Marrick looked up and met his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.” Arslan had also taught them that humans required patience—a lot of patience. “We’ll stay until Arslan arrives,” Luther suggested in compromise. Then Arslan could deal with the other humans, and they could be left in peace with Marrick. The plan had merit. Blaine nodded his agreement. They were the lions. Marrick repeated the fact over and over inside his head. They were the lions. As he closed his eyes, the images of the two men jumped into the memories of that night. He’d played the scene over and over in his head so often over the last weeks, he hadn’t thought anything could make them better, but damn, he’d never guessed they’d look like that!

Blond hair, gorgeously golden skin, and line upon line of muscle. They looked like Hollywood stars, beamed down into the middle of a kinky club. One of them was the before the disaster struck picture, the other was the after shot. The clothes worn by the guy who’d pinned Huntley to the wall, were ripped in some really interesting places, as if he’d almost half-torn them off himself from the inside out. His jeans were split, along the right side of his crotch. The only pity was that he’d obviously decided to dress to the left that day. The guy who’d joined him on the stage first was more serious and more fully dressed than the other, but those were almost the only difference between them. Marrick looked from one lion to the other as they paced around the small room at the back of the club like caged animals. Like lions at the zoo…bowing his head as he rested his forearms on his knees, Marrick fought back a ridiculous urge to burst out into fits of laugher. He was sure neither lion would be impressed if he gave in to temptation. He doubted the dominants still lurking in the room would love him for it either. He had the vague suspicion that they already thought he was far more trouble than he was worth. The more junior dominants had been sent out of the room ages ago. Only four of the older men remained now—two by the door, and two flanking the sofa he’d been ordered onto. Marrick wasn’t exactly sure what they were supposed to do if the lions decided to freak out. He’d felt the well-muscled bodies pressed against him, felt the barely restrained strength in them—and the whole time he’d been aware that they were being careful with him. If they weren’t inclined to be careful, he doubted four human dominants would be much of a challenge to them. Marrick looked up. The one he was pretty sure was called Blaine, the fully dressed one, had stopped pacing. He was staring across the room at him, now. It had taken a hell of a lot of arguing and a lot of talking about someone called Arslan for them to agree that he and the lions should await the other man’s arrival on opposite sides of the room. Marrick held the lion’s gaze. The shifter tilted his head on the side, as if curious about something. The torn up one that was almost certainly called Luther stopped pacing too. He looked over Blaine’s shoulder, following his gaze, all his attention focusing on Marrick. The tension in the room doubled. One of the human dominants shuffled his feet, another stopped leaning against the wall by the door and started to take a lot more interest in the men he’d been ordered to guard.

Just as Blaine seemed to be about to take a step forward, a voice drifted through from the corridor outside. It was muffled by the wall between them, but Marrick still recognized it. It had the air of authority that most human dominants really couldn’t pull off. The man the voice belonged to strode into the room. Another, smaller man stepped in after him, but it was hard to pull his eyes away from the larger man to pay any attention to his companion. So that was the Arslan that was freaking the other lions out. The older man’s eyes went straight to Blaine and Luther. The dungeon monitor appeared in the doorway, he nodded to the other human dominants, calling them from the room. Marrick watched them go without a word. He was pretty sure he should feel nervous about being left alone with the lions. It would have been a very sensible thing to feel. The room hummed with tension, Marrick didn’t have a clue what was going on, but he felt that strange calm settle over him. Either some part of him felt safe with them, or all the blood rushing to his cock had starved his brain and he just wasn’t processing things the way he should have been. “What happened?” Arslan demanded as Luther and Blaine both turned to face him. Both of the younger lions started talking at the same time, the words overlapping each other and blurring together in a confusion of noise. A snarling roar from the leader brought silence to the room. Marrick couldn’t keep his amusement back a second longer. He could just picture what the men outside the room would be imagining right then. The roar had sent a shiver down his spine, even while he was in a position to know it was nothing more than the kind of yell a frustrated babysitter might bestow to a pair of tantrumming toddlers. A shout of laughter burst out of Marrick and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He covered his mouth with his hand, but it did little to muffle the sound. Every pair of eyes in the room turned to stare at him. For a few seconds, the men continued to gaze at him in bemusement as if only just remembering they weren’t alone. Then, all at once, three of them turned their attention back to each other. The one that was almost certainly called Blaine took a deep breath and let it out very slowly—he really did have a bloody brilliant build. Smiling slightly to himself, Marrick had to wonder if he was really focusing on the most pertinent details of the situation. Either way, his cock hardened even further.

“The man was hurting him,” the one who was almost certainly Luther said, with obviously forced calm “You’ve both been stalking him ever since he was thrown to us,” the older lion shot back. “He’s our human. We couldn’t just stand there and watch another man hurt our…” Blaine seemed to stumble over the right word for the occasion. “Our pet.” “The word you’re probably looking for is submissive,” Marrick suggested, quite calmly in his own opinion, all things considered. All attention swung back to him. “Humans are pets,” Blaine informed him, the way an adult might speak to a child who was a bit slow on the uptake. “Yeah, well, I’m not that sort of submissive,” Marrick tossed back at him, in a pretty good imitation of the other man’s tone. Blaine looked away from him, to the fourth man in their group, the one who had yet to say anything, as if he expected him to be able to fix the situation “Ryland?” The young blond man offered Marrick a slightly embarrassed half smile. He was smaller than the others. From what he could see of his shape through his clothes, he was well built enough, but he didn’t have the same physique as the rest of the lions. Marrick looked from him to Arslan and back again. They stood close together, and Ryland’s posture screamed his submission just as loudly as the older lion’s screamed his dominance. The dots joined up inside Marrick’s head. He wasn’t actually the only human in a room full of lions. “No offense intended,” he offered the other man. Ryland dismissed any need for an apology with a shake of the head. By the time Marrick tore his gaze away from him and glanced back to the lions, they were all arguing again, if a little more calmly and quietly this time around. When Ryland stepped forward and crossed the room toward him, Luther and Blaine were too absorbed in their defense of their actions to their…leader. They didn’t notice the smaller man leave them. Marrick was pretty sure Arslan noticed through. He couldn’t help but get the impression that there was nothing Ryland could do that wouldn’t attract the older lion’s attention. “You and him?” Marrick asked, as Ryland took a seat next to him on the small sofa, more for something to say than because he had any real doubts on the matter. “Yes.” Marrick looked at the lion, then back to Ryland.

“Your back, do you need anything?” Marrick caught sight of the other man’s expression as he returned his attention to him. The other man was looking at his back as if he’d never seen a whipped bit of skin before. The half smile twisted Ryland’s lips again. “I’m not that sort of submissive.” Marrick grinned. “I’ve got some…” His jacket lay on the sofa next to him, along with his shirt. He patted the pockets until he found the tube of cream he was looking for. “Not that the guy really had a chance to do much before they turned up and all hell broke loose.” Ryland took the cream anyway. Spreading some on his fingers, he carefully began to tend the pale lines the whip had left on his back. “Did it help?” the other man asked after a little while. Marrick looked over his shoulder. “The cream? Yeah, thanks, it—” Ryland shook his head. “Did the whipping help take your mind off wanting to go back to them?” Marrick met his eyes. He knew. Somehow the other man seemed to know all about the uneasy feeling that had grown in his stomach ever since that night—to know that he was kidding himself when he tried to pretend that feeling was nothing more than the desire to find an even bigger thrill to chase in the future. “Nothing took my mind off Arslan until I went back to him. I’ve never been whipped, but I don’t think that would have helped me much, either.” Marrick bowed his head onto his forearms. Ryland didn’t say anything else as he conscientiously finished smoothing the cream into the light whip marks. “Sometimes it works,” Marrick finally said. “The pain pushes everything else out of your mind.” He frowned slightly. Sometimes it put him so in the moment, the rest of the world stopped existing. All that mattered was the adrenaline and endorphins and little niggly things weren’t important. “It makes you feel so alive…” But that hadn’t happened this time. Huntley might not have had much time to really get going, but it had been long enough for Marrick to know he was never going to do more than go through the motions that night. His heart hadn’t been in it. Maybe if he’d been able to relax, it would have felt different. Maybe if it hadn’t felt like he’d been cheating on men he’d never even set eyes on then— “What’re you doing?”

Marrick looked up. Luther stood in front of them, glaring down at Ryland. “It’ll help the marks on his back,” Ryland said, far more calm in the face of the lion’s anger than Marrick expected him to be. The shifter turned back to the older lion. “Ours.” “Both of yours?” Arslan asked, looking from Luther to Blaine and back again. “Yes,” Blaine said, without even hesitating. Marrick raised an eyebrow. It was always nice to know what was going on. It would have been even nicer if anyone thought he should be consulted before all the decisions were made. He looked back and forth between the two younger lions. He wouldn’t have been able to choose between them, he wasn’t actually entirely sure he’d get it right if he tried to tell them apart when they were both wearing whole bodies full of clothing. Still, it would have been nice to have the chance to say he was all in favor of a ménage. “He can’t belong to both of you.” Arslan seemed very certain about that. Blaine folded his arms across his chest. Marrick found himself waiting for the other man to stamp his feet against the floor and throw a real tantrum. “Why not?” Luther asked, before he had the chance. Arslan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if he was working very hard to keep his patience. “It’s not fair on a man to expect him to serve two masters. Sharing a sacrifice is one thing—a pet is something different. Which of you is going to be responsible for him? Which will be answerable if anything should happen to him?” “Would it help if I promise to look both ways before I cross the road and not take sweets off strangers?” Marrick asked. For the first time, Arslan’s full attention turned toward him. He seemed no more impressed with him than he did with the younger lions. “Are you hurt?” “I’m fine. It was just a scene. I was actually having a good time before—” A grumbling sound came from Luther and Blaine’s direction. Arslan ignored them. “Do you have any objection to returning to the den?” Marrick glanced at Ryland. Going back to the lion had helped him—it had been the only thing that had helped him. He saw a touch of sympathy in the other submissive’s eyes as he watched him come to a decision. “You’ll be free to leave whenever you want,” Arslan said. The glare he gave Luther and Blaine as he said it, made it quite clear he had the final say on the matter and not them.

Marrick nodded slowly, as if there had ever been a possibility he’d come to a different decision when faced with the prospect of spending another night with the men who’d filled his brain and stolen his ability to sleep for more than a fortnight. “Just for tonight.”

Chapter Three

Eyes closed, Marrick stood in the middle of the room. The heat from the fire coupled with the sensation of several pairs of eyes roaming over his body brought it all back. He could almost feel leather sneak around his wrists. It would have been so easy to fall into the idea that a blindfold still covered his eyes. The memory of being bound and helpless rushed to his mind and dropped straight to his cock. He opened his eyes. His gaze fell on a battered leather sofa. That was where they’d curled around him afterwards, snuggling up to him in a way he was sure no one night stand ever should. Looking over his shoulder, Marrick found Luther and Blaine both watching him with blatant curiosity, probably wondering why the hell he’d been standing there with his eyes closed for so long. He was about to laugh off his silliness, when he noticed Arslan studying the younger lions in turn, an unreadable expression on his face. “And which kind of human is he?” Arslan asked, never once looking in Marrick’s direction. “Adrenaline junkie, nympho or whore?” Blaine spun around to face the larger shifter. “What?” Arslan repeated the question, word for word. As Luther moved to stand next to Blaine, Marrick felt Ryland step closer to his side. “Why do I get the feeling he’s quoting one of them?” “Because you’ve probably got more sense than both of them put together?” Ryland suggested, no small amount of amusement creeping into his voice. Marrick grinned as he realized he’d been right when he guessed who Luther and Blaine had been talking about when they said it. Two minutes in their company, and he already knew Arslan wasn’t the type of man to nod and smile when someone insulted his…his human pet. “It’s not the same as—!” “He’s nothing like—!” Luther and Blaine stared at the same time, their words tangling together into a garbled mess.

“Adrenaline junkie,” Marrick cut in, before another feline shouting match could descend on the room. All eyes turned toward him. “With just a tiny bit of the others mixed in,” Marrick added, for the sake of completeness. Blaine swung back to face him. “What?” Marrick shrugged. “I heard they were looking for volunteers. It’s not often someone offers to pay you to get that sort of rush.” “The money will be returned.” Marrick looked Blaine up and down. Best start as he meant to go on. And it wouldn’t do him any good to let them think they could ride roughshod over him, just because he was human and they could turn into pretty little tabby cats whenever they wanted to. “My money, not yours.” Blaine and Luther both opened their mouths, the movement so in sync it was hard to believe both jaws weren’t operated by one person pulling both their strings. “Anyway—it’s already gone.” Blaine glared across the room at him. “Where?” “Children’s Hospice.” Blaine’s lips parted again, but he stopped himself short. ”What?” Marrick shrugged. “I don’t need the money. They do.” Blaine looked to Arslan. Marrick turned his attention to Luther, only to find the other lion was also looking at the older man. There was little he could do but follow their example. Arslan sat on the arm of one of the sofas now, his hand idly stroking through Ryland’s hair as the other man knelt at his feet. Marrick raised an eyebrow at the leader of the pride. Arslan smiled slightly. Unless Marrick was very much mistaken, the lions’ leader was enjoying Luther and Blaine’s discomfort. One lion in the room seemed to like the fact the lions weren’t having everything their own way. “So, what happens now?” Marrick asked, briskly brushing the whole matter of money aside. “You both said he was to be your pet,” Arslan said to the younger lions. “What do you think should be done with him?” Marrick watched the lions exchange a look.

“It’s late,” Luther said, after a little while. “He should sleep.” Marrick looked around the other men in the room, wondering if he was the only guy in the room who thought the lion should be hit smartly around the head and told to stop treating him like a toddler. He caught Blaine’s eye first. He didn’t look like he was all that interested in helping him sleep. The amusement shining in Arslan’s eyes implied that he doubted they had any sleep planned at all for the night. Marrick felt his hackles go down. That was different. He wouldn’t mind getting laid, either. A bed wouldn’t be a bad place to do that. He nodded his acceptance of the whole ‘sleeping’ thing. Arslan took his hand out of Ryland’s hair. “Show Marrick to the guest room, pet.” “Yes, sir.” Ryland rose and led the way up the grand old fashioned staircase and along the landing to a door at the far end of the corridor. Marrick looked around the room as he followed the other man inside. It was nice enough. The furniture was so old it had passed through second hand and wandered into really expensive antiques territory. More importantly, the bed was, without doubt, the largest piece of furniture he’d ever seen hold a mattress. “Plenty of room for three,” he murmured to himself. “They’re bratty as hell, but they’ll listen if you say your safe word,” Ryland volunteered after a while. Marrick sat down on the edge of the bed. Ryland walked across the room to nudge another door open. “There’s an en-suite through here, and there are extra blankets in the wardrobe—not that you’ll need them.” The room wasn’t exactly scorching hot. There was only actually a thin throw on the bed. He looked across at the other submissive, wondering if there would be an explanation to go with the statement Ryland lips curved into that very slight smile again, but he didn’t have a chance to speak. The bedroom door swung open. Luther and Blaine strode in. Marrick looked at his two new lovers. They both stared back at him, as if they weren’t quite sure what to do with a man who wasn’t currently bound and blindfolded by the fireside.

The soft click of the door closing behind Ryland, snapped Marrick out of his stupor. Standing up, he pulled his shirt over his head as tossed it toward a chair by a desk in front of the window. A snarl filled the air, making him freeze. Not quite the reaction he expected… He remained, trapped in the middle of the room by his own instincts until one brain cell finally bumped into its neighbor and his brain started working again. The marks from the fleeting whipping he’d been granted at the club obviously weren’t to the lions’ tastes. Forcing his body into action, Marrick looked over his shoulder. He found both the shifters staring fixedly at his back as if they were going to pounce on him any second. Pushing that possibility out of his mind, or at least reminding himself he’d probably enjoy it immensely if they did, Marrick turned his attention to his jeans. Deftly undoing the buttons, he pushed them down until they bunched around his shins, stopped short by his boots. Bending at the waist, he reached for his ankles and began to undo the laces. He was only half way through the first boot when a rough palm stroked his arse. Marrick smiled slightly to himself. Feline dom’s weren’t that different to the human sort in the grand scheme of things. A second later, denim brushed against his bare backside. Strong hands pulled him upright. Marrick let the lion tug him back against his body. The shifter was already hard. He only held him close for a moment, letting the heat from his body soak into Marrick’s skin, before he pushed him toward the bed. Twisting as he fell, he managed to land on his side, his ankles still trapped within his jeans and boots. A little bit of wriggling and he rolled onto his back to look up at his companions. Blaine was the one who’d given in to the temptation to approach him first. He loomed over Marrick as he crawled on the bed, covering Marrick’s body with his own. As the lion brought their lips together, he let the shifter control everything about the kiss, content to see where they were heading before he starting making any suggestions of his own. A knee nudged against Marrick’s legs, trying unsuccessfully to part them. Marrick reached up to the other man. His fingers slid into the lion’s hair, tangling in the shaggy blond strands as he tugged the larger man down more firmly against his body. Blaine leaned back, breaking the kiss to shake off Marrick’s grip on him. When he tried to catch hold of the other man again, Marrick quickly found his wrist pinned down against the blanket.

Blaine purred his satisfaction against Marrick’s lips as he resumed leading the kiss whichever way he chose. More confident than ever in his dominance, the lion tried to part Marrick’s legs again. With the best will in the world, he couldn’t cooperate, no matter how polite or persistent the other man’s demands were. Finally Blaine pulled back and frowned down at him. “Boots,” Marrick gasped. “What?” “I’ve still got my boots on. My jeans are stuck.” The guy stared down at him, his expression entirely blank, as if he wasn’t quite familiar with the idea of having to strip someone off before he could have sex with him. Finally, his brain seemed to catch up with reality. He looked down Marrick’s body and spotted the problem. Pulling away, he quickly reached for his right boot. A second later, Luther had hold of his left boot. Marrick rested back on his elbows, watching the other men battle with the laces. Luther had picked the boot that was already half unlaced. It didn’t take him long to toss the obstacle aside. As soon as he was done, he was on the bed with him and quick to take possession of his mouth while Blaine finished waging war on the other boot. The lion’s hand slid behind Marrick supporting him as his tongue thrust into his mouth. Strong fingers ran down his back, teasing the whip marks. Something sharper than any human finger nail should be, traced new lines on his back, crossing those that Huntley had left in his wake. The touch was far to gentle to leave any record of its journey across his skin, but it still managed to call to something inside him, some submissive little bit of his psyche that loved the idea of wearing the symbols of another man’s possession beneath his skin, of belonging to someone else and not being ashamed of the whole world knowing it. As Marrick fought to keep up with Luther’s kiss, he felt his jeans being dragged off. A moment later, he heard Blaine purr his approval as he joined them both on the bed. Marrick turned his head from one lion to the other, as Blaine took his turn with his mouth, before handing possession of him back to Luther. Letting each lion lead him into whatever sort of kiss he desired, Marrick gave himself up to the situation, to the realization that the uncomfortable feeling growing inside him since the last

time he left the house was almost entirely dissolved away now. The pure wave of relief brought with it a better high than he’d ever known. Luther’s tongue darted between his lips in rapid little movements that made him eager to bring his own tongue out to play. Blaine was slower—he explored his mouth more carefully, as if mapping him out for future reference, and he didn’t like anyone interfering with suggestions of different things they could do. The lions’ cheeks brushed together as one took the other’s place. Their mouths met. Marrick watched fascinated as their attention turned away from him and toward each other. He’d expected to watch a stunning battle for dominance, but somehow it didn’t happen. They kissed as if their lips had already lingered together for years and they had nothing left to learn about each other. It was like watching two perfectly trained dancers performing at the very peak of their ability—not so much the ballet type as the sort that twirled around poles for a living, but still… The kiss faded away without either lion seeming to pull back from the other, and Marrick found himself once more caught between them. They were still dressed. Their clothes rubbed against his skin, teasing his senses as he wished the annoying bit of fabric away. A hand wrapped around his cock, jacking him very slowly as he heard someone fumbling around in the bedside cabinet. Another hand nudged his legs apart. There were no excuses for not obeying the command, now. Within seconds, Marrick found himself spread out wide on the bed. Slicked fingers brushed against his hole. Marrick moaned his approval as he tried to wriggle his way onto them, but they merely tantalized without making any real attempt to enter him. He tried to shuffle his legs even further apart, straining his joints in his desire to please. Before he could raise the words to beg, a hot, wet mouth descended around his cock. Words ceased to exist. A cry of pure bliss filled the air as a rough, feline tongue rasped against the tip of his cock for the first time. The other lion’s mouth covered his lips, stealing the sound, robbing him of his ability to tell the other shifter to hurry the hell up. Eyes closed, Marrick already knew their kisses well enough to know it was Luther’s lips that covered his. Now he doubted he’d ever forget the way Blaine’s mouth felt against his shaft either. And through it all, Blaine’s fingers continued to work inside him, very slowly. If Marrick hadn’t been so sure he’d already had sex with them, he’d have been tempted to think the lion

thought he was a damn virgin—treating him like he was some fragile little thing who needed to be coaxed into relaxing and welcoming another man into his body. He was ready! Finally, even the fact he was thoroughly getting off on his complete inability to make the dominant change anything about what he was doing, wasn’t enough to keep him silent. He moaned his frustration into Luther’s mouth. His hands reached down and pushed at Blaine’s shoulders. Teeth scraped very gently against his shaft, as if in warning, but Marrick was already too far gone to process that properly. He pushed blindly at the bodies surrounding him. Both lions pulled back, just far enough to let him breathe, to let him blink and focus on them each in turn. Lying between them in the center of the bed, it was hard to think about anything clearly. There was only one thing he was really sure about—he’d had more than enough teasing to last him a lifetime. “Condoms in my pocket if you haven’t got any,” he managed to rasp out. Blaine pushed him back to lie flat on the mattress. A moment later, he was kneeling between his legs again, looming over him, obviously not impressed. “Lions don’t need—” Marrick put his hands against the other man’s shoulders and pushed him away more seriously, trying to gain some room to make thoughts happen. Luther moved up the bed. Catching Marrick’s arms, he pinned them against the mattress above his head. Marrick stared up at him. It was bloody hard to be sensible when everything either man did, seemed to send another shot of adrenaline straight to his cock. “Not negotiable,” he managed to bite out. “Who’s negotiating?” Blaine asked, his cock already freed from his jeans and resting against Marrick’s diligently prepared hole. Marrick rocked slightly, pushing against him, desperate to feel the other man’s bare cock inside him in spite of all his nice logical statements to the contrary. “Lions don’t need—” Blaine began again. Marrick shook his head. Maybe they did. Maybe they didn’t. Either way, that didn’t change the fact that whatever decision he made right then, wouldn’t involve any above-the-belt thought process. “They do if they want to screw me. Condom.” Blaine made a really pissed off noise in the back of his throat, but he rolled away from him and scrabbled around in the bedside drawer once more.

Marrick let his eyes drop closed as he heard the tearing of a condom wrapper. A moment later, slicked latex pressed against his hole. He pushed back against it once more—and this time no inconvenient survival instinct rose up inside him to make him object. He tried to reach out to the other man, Luther’s hands tightened around his wrists. Shuffling into a more comfortable position, the second lion guided Marrick to lift his head and shoulders from the bed and rest against him as he knelt behind him. A moment later, his hands were back around Marrick’s wrists, holding them not quite firmly enough for his touch to be considered perfect. Wriggling didn’t do anything to make him tighten the grip. As Blaine slid into him, slow and easy, letting Marrick feel every inch of him, Marrick stopped squirming to try to get what he wanted from either of them. His body went into auto pilot as he arched his back, pushing his head back against Luther’s body as he gloried in the strength that surrounded him. As the lion stilled, giving him far more time than he needed in order to accept him, Marrick watched the lions lips come together above him. A dart of pink saw Luther’s tongue thrust into Blaine’s mouth before their lips parted and Blaine turned all his attention to Marrick. Pulling away, Blaine rocked back into him, making him gasp. Half a dozen slow, controlled thrusts later, and Marrick was already writhing helplessly for the lions, trapped between them, and sure he’d never want to be anywhere else. More and more pleasure built inside him with each movement. Any moment, he expected Blaine to come, but he didn’t. His restraint seemed inexhaustible. Marrick whimpered as the lion hit his prostate again. He came then, hard and fast, his mind dissolving into pleasure as he bucked between the two men. And Blaine just kept thrusting through it, never missing a stroke, drawing out his orgasm until Marrick could barely remember a time when he wasn’t coming at the other men’s command, spilling his cum over his own chest at their insistence. As quickly as pure bliss had filled every cell in his body, every bit of energy in Marrick’s possession deserted him. A moment later, Blaine tossed his head back as he roared his own pleasure up at the ceiling. Marrick blinked his eyes open just in time to see the ecstasy that filled his expression.

He was glorious. The submissive let his eyes fall closed for a few seconds, letting that perfect image burn itself onto the inside of his lids, knowing he’d be calling it back to the front of his mind every time he was on his own, with his hand wrapped tightly around his cock. Thoroughly sated and already more than half asleep, Marrick allowed the lions to move him however they wished as they rearranged all of their limbs comfortably on the bed and the other men’s clothes finally fell away. Soothed by their presence, truly at ease for the first time since he left the den weeks earlier, and finally feeling as if sleep might be a possibility, Marrick let slumber slip into the corners of his mind. Luther reached out to Marrick and stroked his fingers down their new pet’s back, gently reminding the other man that Blaine wasn’t the only lion in his bed than night. Marrick looked over his shoulder and smiled sleepily up at him. Luther dipped his head and brought their mouths together. Marrick didn’t hesitate to meet his lips. He didn’t kiss like most of the other human men Luther had known. There was nothing cautious or tentative about him. He threw himself into the kiss as if he had never done anything else, would never want to do anything else but kiss and be kissed by his masters for the rest of his life. Even when Marrick started to pull away, he didn’t try to go far. He merely turned to face Luther properly. Still sated and sleepy, he pressed a kiss to Luther’s chin, then another against his neck. Luther tilted his head back, giving the other man room to explore his skin, more than willing to while away the minutes that way while Marrick recovered from his time with Blaine. They weren’t in the den now. They didn’t need to worry that the other man would be stolen away from them. Marrick was theirs. He’d fall asleep in their bed. He’d wake up next to them in the morning. Luther smiled at the thought. The younger man pressed a kiss further down his chest. He seemed to be heading straight down. Another kiss was placed against the middle of Luther’s chest, Marrick’s tongue lapping gently at his skin in the process. Then another, lower, just above his belly button. It was hard to doubt his objective. Luther caught his arm and pulled him back up the bed. As much as he enjoyed the other man’s mouth while they lay before the fire, that wasn’t what he wanted right then. Marrick didn’t

respond to the tug on his arm. He dipped his head and offered another kiss to his skin, just above his cock. Luther shook his head. A movement from the other side of the bed pulled his attention away from Marrick for a moment. He looked across at Blaine, stretched out on the other side of the bed, watching them with obvious interest. Marrick hesitated for a second. Then he glanced over his shoulder, following Luther’s gaze. When he turned back and met Luther’s eyes, there was some emotion in them that the lion couldn’t recognize, but he nodded his acceptance of the change of plans a second later. He allowed Luther to guide him up the bed and bring their lips back together in a sleepy little kiss. He made no complaint as Luther carefully rearranged them, to put Marrick on his stomach beneath him. The pet made a contented little sound in the back of his throat as Luther ran his hand down his back, sliding his fingers down further, to rub against his hole. He was still slick from Blaine’s preparations and seemed more than willing to take him without any extra help. Holding most of his weight off the smaller man, Luther lay over him, his cock settling snugly between his cheeks. The residue of the lube smeared onto his shaft as he rocked his hips, letting his cock slide back and forth between the other man’s cheeks. Marrick rocked his own hips, pushing his arse up against Luther’s cock in return. A moment later, he tensed his muscles, creating a snug little hold around his erection. Luther couldn’t help but purr his pleasure as he nuzzled at the back of the other man’s neck. The pet’s hands moved on the sheet, as he bent his elbows and tried to gain a purchase on the mattress. Luther automatically covered the submissive’s hands, pinning them against the mattress, reminding him that he belonged to someone now, that he was safe with his master, and all he had to do was obey. The submissive gasped his approval. He didn’t try to pull his hands out of Luther’s hold, but his wriggling only increased, as he tried to take control of the way they moved against each other. Luther tightened his grip around the other man’s hands as much as he dared, threading their fingers together. Rocking his hips, he thrust against the cleft between the other man’s buttocks again, letting the lube smear further along his shaft. The tip of his cock brushed against his hole as he rocked his hips back. He pushed forward slightly, testing the tight ring of muscle.

For the first time, Marrick moved in a way that didn’t push his arse back against Luther’s cock. “Forgetting something?” he asked, the question was broken in half by a gasp, but it was still easily understood—the words if not what they were supposed to mean. Before Luther could ask what the other man was talking about, Blaine held out a condom to him. Luther swallowed down his complaints. Marrick wasn’t their true mate yet. He didn’t have any right to insist that nothing remained between them. He knew that—Arslan had taken great care in making sure they both knew that. As and when they took a human to be a formal mate, they might be able to bring him to understand that too. But, until then, they had no choice but to accept their pet’s decision. He hadn’t let Blaine mark him either. That made it slightly easier to accept. Marrick flexed his fingers against the blanket as Luther released him to roll on the condom, but he didn’t try to move away from where his master had made it clear he wanted him to stay. Luther let his hands remain free for the shortest time possible, before he wrapped his grip around his wrists again. Covering Marrick’s body once more, he pushed into him, slow and steady, being careful with him, just as he knew he’d always have to be with a human lover—no matter how much he wished he could act as naturally with him as he did with Blaine. He glanced across at the other lion as the memory of all the times their bodies had come together, furious and uncontrolled, filled his mind. Blain’s eyes were on Marrick, watching his every movement. Luther looked back to their pet. With his head turned to one side, a slight sleepiness still in his eyes, he was glorious. Luther rocked his hips, gentling his thrusts further as he altered his angle. Marrick made a sound that was almost like a kitchen’s purr. Luther couldn’t help but echo it. The other man seemed more accepting and willing to follow his master’s lead now than he had been with Blaine. With every thrust he made into the other man, he seemed to become more theirs. The fact he’d been at a club full of other men, what he might have done with the other men if they hadn’t found him, became less important with each second. He was theirs. Gradually, Luther felt the tension begin to build in their pet’s body, but it was nothing like the way his muscles had knotted when they first found him under the whip. His scent held no trace of fear—just pleasure. Dipping his head, Luther lapped at his shoulder in approval. A

moment later, he felt the change in Marrick’s movements as the other man began to rub himself against the mattress with each thrust, more and more eager to come again with every movement. Luther groaned his pleasure as success rushed through him, dropping to his cock to mix with the pure bliss of being cocooned into their pet’s body. He thrust a little harder into Marrick, making him moan and start to squirm underneath him in earnest. Marrick’s climax seemed to rip through him without any warning. He bucked underneath Luther as he came, tossing his head back and gasping out his delight. His movements caught Luther by surprise too. As the other man clenched tight around his cock, it was impossible for him not to come. His roar echoed around the otherwise silent room, bouncing off the walls and filling the space, just as ecstasy expanded to fill his whole body. His claws crept out, as if desperate to make more room inside him for yet more pleasure. For an entire life time, he couldn’t think, couldn’t move. All that existed was a swirling mass of bliss that purred and rippled inside. Luther clung to the trailing ends of ecstasy as reality slowly reasserted itself around him. Reluctantly easing his hold on his lover, he collapsed on the bed next to him. Blinking open his eyes, he looked across at the smaller man. Reaching out, he slid his fingers through his hair as well as he could. There wasn’t really enough of it. There didn’t seem to be an ounce of movement, an ounce of energy left in their pet. He was more still than Luther had ever seen a human, except when one gave into their instinct to freeze like prey. “Marrick?” “I’m fine,” Marrick mumbled into his pillow. “Just tired.” Tired in humans obviously looked different to tired in lions. He looked, and smelt, the way a lion would if he was exhausted. Luther filed away another item in the list of differences he was gathering between Marrick and Blaine in the back of his head. One of the largest points on the list was still that humans really hadn’t a clue how to rest comfortably with their lovers. Luther shuffled sleepily closer to Marrick and flung his arm over his back. When he looked up, Blaine was still watching them both, with that strange little expression around his eyes. Frowning, Luther beckoned him closer, wondering if the awkwardness was catching. Blaine hesitated, just for a second, before he came to join him and Marrick. Luther’s frown deepened. Blaine never hesitated to come closer to him.

Their lips met over their new pet’s body, and Luther pushed the half formed idea aside. As he and Blaine arranged themselves around the slumbering pet, it was easy to forget the other lion’s strange behavior for a few moments, but as he closed his eyes and sleep failed to claim him instantly, it became much easier to recall. Reaching out, Luther pulled Blaine a little closer, settling Marrick a little more snugly between them in the process.

Chapter Four

“He’ll be back soon.” Blaine studied his lover’s reaction to the reminder very carefully. Luther nodded, but even after a day full of carefully worded statements, Blaine found himself no closer to knowing how the other lion really felt about Marrick. There was only one thing Blaine was sure about. Luther felt differently about Marrick than he had about any other man that had joined them. This particular man was more than just a human who’d agreed to play the sacrificial game with them. There hadn’t been a single point during the day when Blaine hadn’t been well aware of that. Luther cared about Marrick the way he hadn’t cared about any other potential pet that had come to them. Blaine tapped his fingers against the arm of the sofa. He wasn’t sure if that fact was even harder to accept than the realization he felt pretty much the same way about their pet. Their pet. Arslan had said they would feel differently about whichever human they eventually wished to keep for longer than a few hours, which they wished to make their pet— maybe even their mate. Blaine just hadn’t realized he’d feel the same way about Marrick as he felt about Luther. That was…unexpected. Now that they had finished stalking him and there was time to sit and contemplate the reality before them, Blaine found that there really was a great deal to think about. It took all his strength of will not to get up and stand next to Luther, to look out of the window with him and see if there was any sign of the younger man in the driveway. Dropping his head back onto the sofa cushions, he stared up at the ceiling and tried not to let his lover see how eager he was for a glimpse of their new pet, even after less than a day apart. “How much work did you get done today?” Luther asked. Blaine smiled slightly as he lifted his head. “No less than you.”

Luther crossed the room. Settling his knees on the sofa cushions each side of Blaine’s waist, he leaned forward to purr in his ear as he straddled him. “He wasn’t the only man I thought about today.” Blaine leaned forward to nuzzle at the other man’s neck, even as he reached around his lover to palm his arse through his jeans. Luther rocked his hips, rubbing his crotch against Blaine’s rapidly stiffing cock through the layers of denim that separated them. “What were you thinking about?” Blaine asked, his voice deepening a fraction with each word. “Screwing you senseless,” Luther whispered, his lips twisting into an easy smile. “Burying my cock in your arse and making you beg to be allowed to come.” “Keep dreaming…” Blaine whispered against the other man’s mouth as he threaded his fingers through his hair and pulled him down for a kiss. Luther half purred, half chuckled against his mouth. Blaine let out an irritable little snarl as he felt his hackles rise at the jibe. Vibrations danced across both their lips, seeping into Blaine’s senses, making him stiffen further. “Marrick will be back soon—if you want to master someone, you can screw him.” His lover pulled back a fraction. Blaine saw the challenge in his eyes. Before he had time to react, Luther’s hands were wrapped around his wrists and his arms were pinned back against the sofa cushions either side of his head. The other lion was no weaker than him. His position let him use his weight as well as his strength to good advantage. Blaine tested the hold and found it immovable. “Maybe Marrick won’t be the only pet I’ll have after all?” Luther teased. Blaine bucked hard, putting every ounce of frustration that had built up inside him during the day into good effect. Luther’s eyes opened very wide as he toppled backwards. He landed hard on the hearthrug. He’d barely had time to blink before Blaine pounced on him, quickly pinning him to the floor. Luther snarled and writhed underneath him, checking his hold. Blaine leaned low over the other lion and let his whispered words caress his lover’s ear. “You said something about someone having two pets?” The other lion grumbled irritably under his breath. The words trailed away as if he was giving up. Blaine grinned as he lowered his head to steal a kiss from the other man. Luther parted his lips in welcome, but he nipped at the tip of Blaine’s tongue when he tried to take true

possession of his mouth. Just because he was willing to admit he lost this round, that didn’t mean he was about to play nicely in defeat. Blaine felt something inside him ease. He wouldn’t want Luther to be any other way with him, but there was certainly room for someone in their lives who was something different to each of them—someone who liked to be in the position one of them inevitably found himself in when his lover won a round. Perhaps it was because he knew Marrick would be home soon, but Luther didn’t try to pout for too long. His hips started to rock encouragingly beneath Blaine, rubbing them together as Luther finally allowed him to deepen the kiss the way he wanted to. Quickly losing himself in the feel of their bodies moving against each other, Blaine clumsily adjusted his hold on the other lion, desperately trying to get more friction against his cock. One moment he achieved the perfect arrangement of limbs. The next he was on his back with a very smug looking Luther glaring down at him. Blaine let out a yell of laugher as he saw the simple joy in the other man’s eyes. So stupid to be jealous of what the other man might feel for Marrick when Luther was still the same lion he’d been in love with for years. He saw the same emotion reflected back in the other shifter’s eyes. No human could change that. His laughter that turned into a roar as he rolled them both again, glorying in the strength he felt in the other man’s body. Half trying to pin Luther down, half trying to get rid of the yards and yards of fabric that seemed determined to keep them apart, he scrabbled at the other man’s limbs and his clothes in turn. Claws came out to play. He felt Luther scratch at his skin, as they rolled and tumbled on the rug in front of the fireplace. Flinging out a hand, he managed to halt their progress just in time to stop them from slamming into a book case in the corner of the room. Arslan had pointedly emptied the room of anything particularly breakable not long after they’d joined his pride, but destroying the furniture wouldn’t win them any prizes with the older man, best not to annoy him when they and Marrick would all need his blessing at some point. Blaine pushed them back toward the center of the room. A shadow lay across the rug. He looked up. Marrick! Blaine scrambled up onto his feet. Luther was upright a moment later, the last shreds of his clothes falling away in the process. “I didn’t hear a car.”

“I rode my bike over. I’ll need it for work tomorrow anyway. Quicker if I just ride straight there.” Marrick pulled two bags off his shoulders and dropped them on the floor by the door. “Don’t stop on my account.” Blaine tilted his head on the side as he tried to make sense of the statement and failed. Luther blinked at him, still panting a little from their tumbling and apparently no more able to follow their pet’s line of thought than Blaine was. Marrick stepped forward. “It looked like you two were having a hell of a lot of fun before I got here.” “You’re late,” Blaine told him. It was important to mention that. If they were to be his masters, they would have to address behavior like that—just as Arslan would. They couldn’t just think about screwing him. Blaine ran his eyes up and down the other man’s body, then reminded himself of the last bit again. Marrick shrugged. “An extra delivery came in just as I was about to leave. Overtime’s overtime.” While most of Blaine’s blood supply had already been diverted to his cock, he was more than ready to accept that as a reasonable explanation. Sucking a deep breath of air into his lungs, he let it out slowly as he fought to switch mental gears between what he could do with Luther and what they might both be permitted to do with Marrick now he was finally there. Their pet hadn’t been lying about enjoying watching them play together. He was as hard as either of them. Blaine slid a hand into his hair to cradle the younger man’s head as he brought their lips together. Pets needed a gentle hand, Arslan had drummed that into them both. Marrick wasn’t Luther, even if something inside the younger man called to him just as strongly as his feline lover did. As Blaine deepened the kiss, Marrick rose up on his tip toes, leaning against him. The lion’s other hand settled on Marrick’s arse, pulling him closer, letting his cock rub against the other man’s crotch through Marrick’s clothes. The younger man’s hands slid up into Blaine’s hair. His grip tightened on him, as if the smaller man was clinging to him for support. Blaine purred his approval into their kiss. A moment later, Marrick’s hand moved to wrap around Blaine’s wrist. Instinct took over. For a second, the only thing in his head, was the challenge for dominance. There was no thought of the other man’s humanity, or his fragility. He pushed him back toward the rug, only to spring forward and pull him back close before he could actually tumble to the floor.

Marrick’s hands landed on his shoulders as he steadied himself. “What the hell—?” Marrick looked up at him, his eyes full of confusion. “You have to be careful,” Luther said. Blaine met the other lion’s eyes over Marrick’s shoulder and nodded his understanding. Luther wasn’t just speaking to Marrick. They had to be careful with him. Arslan would skin them, if they weren’t—he might refuse to allow them to bring Marrick into the pride. Worse even than that, if they made the same mistakes with their first pet as they’d made with their first sacrifice, Arslan would be right to keep them away from him. “Are you okay?” Blaine asked. Marrick looked at him as if he was crazy. He shook his head, as if dismissing all need for concern. “I’m fine.” He pushed away from him. Blaine let him step back, wary of holding onto him to tight if he tried to stop him. As he watched, Luther greeted their pet with a kiss of his own. The other lion’s hands were unfailingly gentle on him. Marrick didn’t seem reassured. “You know, I’m not going to break if you want to invite me into the game.” It took Blaine a few moments to realize what the other man was talking about. He frowned. “Lions can’t play rough with humans.” Marrick turned away from Luther and looked across the room at him. “Oh?” “You’re not strong enough.” It was a simple statement of fact, but it made Marrick frown. “Who says?” “Arslan says that humans are weaker than lions. We have to be careful with you, remember that it’s a master’s place to make sure his pets don’t get hurt,” Luther said. Marrick didn’t look impressed with the explanation. “He’s wrong.” Blaine met Luther’s eyes for a second. When he shook his head, he knew he spoke for both of them. Arslan wasn’t wrong about things like that. They’d learned that much the hard way. Marrick looked back and forth from one lion to the other. They were serious. It took him a few seconds to wrap his head around the idea. “So I’m the poor little sub, and you’re the big strong doms who are going to swoop in and rescue and, and keep me safe from the whole world forever and ever?” he checked.

If they didn’t understand anything else about humans, they seemed to sense that his tone of voice meant something right then. Neither of them rushed to reply. Marrick didn’t need them to, he saw the truth in their eyes. “You know, a few guys have told me things like that before—mostly my ex-boyfriends,” he told them, his tone of voice not really changing. “It’s part of the reason they’re all exes.” Blaine snarled. Marrick wasn’t sure if that was because he’d mentioned having previous lovers, or if it was because he’d reminded him that they might become exes very quickly if they pushed him too hard on that particular subject. Either way, part of him loved the sound. He wanted them angry with him—angry enough to forget that they had apparently been taught he was too weak to play with them, angry enough to pin him down they way they did with each other—angry enough with him to make the adrenaline flood through his veins hard and fast and make him feel alive the way only a good dominant and a rough scene really could. He looked around the room. Not there. The den was too full of the older lion’s dictates on how they were supposed to behave. He needed them away from that. Turning away from them, he picked up his bags from by the door. Blaine’s hand wrapped around his forearm. “You’re not leaving.” “No,” Marrick said. “I’m not. I’m going to bed.” He could feel the lions’ hesitation as they tried to work out what was going on, but as he led the way into their bedroom, that wasn’t a problem. He didn’t need them to lead him right then. There would be time enough for that when they were all on the same kinky page. “The first night I came to you, did you like having me tied up?” Blaine nodded. Reaching out, he wrapped his hand around Marrick’s wrist. His touch was still too gentle, but the sight of a strong hand encircling his skin still went straight to Marrick’s cock. “It is part of the tradition,” Blaine said, his voice barely more than a whisper as he turned Marrick’s hand this way and that, studying his hold on him from all angles. Luther stepped up next to the other lion—his eyes going instantly to Blaine’s grip on him. “There’s no law saying you can’t tie me up other times, is there?” “If a lion has to tie his pet up to be able to mate with him, then his pet—” Marrick reached out and put his fingertips over Luther’s lips. “Not because I want to get away, because I like it.”

Luther frowned. He didn’t get it. Marrick dropped his hand away from the other man’s lips as he tried to think of another way to explain it. Turning away, he tried to put a little bit of space between them in the vague hope his brain cells would work better on the other side of the room. Blaine kept hold of his wrist. “Like it how?” Marrick met his gaze and held it. “I like being tied up. I like someone else having that much control over me—knowing that he can do whatever he wants with me.” “Like you belong to him,” Blaine suggested. “Like you’re his pet.” Marrick took a deep breath. “Maybe.” It was the best he could offer either of the other men right then. It seemed to be enough. He saw the triumph in Blaine’s eyes, and the happiness in Luther’s. A second later, Luther’s expression faltered. “You took the cuffs with you when you left.” “Doesn’t have to be cuffs,” Marrick said quickly. “You can use whatever you want.” As easily as that, the light bounced back into the lion’s expression as if it had never been gone. Luther nodded to himself as he strode across the room. Marrick looked over his shoulder as the shifter rifled through a wardrobe. He came back, victory in his eyes and several ties in his hands. Marrick nodded his approval, ready to endorse anything that showed they were willing to make him fall into that perfect moment when the bonds around his wrists were the only things that mattered, and it was impossible that he’d ever feel more alive. His clothes quickly disappeared. Within minutes, he lay on the bed, face down, with his hands extended up toward the bed frame. Luther quickly tied his right hand in place. It should have been a tighter binding, a stronger knot. Marrick kept those facts to himself. The simple fact they were willing to tie him up was glorious. They’d have years to work on the details. The breath caught in his throat. They’d have days to work on the details. Maybe even weeks. Months at the outside. That’s what he’d meant. “You’ve healed.” Marrick grasped at the distraction, hurriedly pushing the other ideas out of his head. “What?” “The lines that man left on your back have healed.”

Marrick looked over his shoulder. That was hardly surprising. Hadley had barely flicked the leather against his skin before Luther had descended on him. “You can put new ones there, if you like,” he offered. Suddenly he found himself flipped over to lie on his back. The fabric tightened around his wrist as he was tugged several inches down the bed in the process. “You think either of us would ever do that to you,” Blaine demanded. Marrick looked up at him. The lion looked so thoroughly disgusted by the idea, he couldn’t bring himself to hold the shifter’s gaze. He had nothing to be ashamed of. He’d worked his way through all that bull a long time ago. He’d be damned if he’d apologize for his kinks—or blush over them either. But he still couldn’t find it in himself to raise his eyes right then. In some way he was only then starting to understand, it was too important. If some guy in a club looked down on masochists that was fine, Marrick had been there, done that. He walked away and hooked up with another dom around the corner with nothing more than a shrug of his shoulders too. If Luther and Blaine hated that part of him… Marrick swallowed. Unwilling to look down a moment longer, he turned his attention to his bound wrist instead. Luther’s fingers settled on his cheek and turned his head to face him. Their eyes met. “We would never hurt you.” Marrick took a deep breath and let it out. Feel the fear and do it anyway. He’d lived by the motto for years. It was the habit of doing that more than anything else that pushed the words out of his mouth. “Not even if I ask you to?” Confusion flooded into the shifter’s eyes. He looked to the other lion for help. Marrick followed his gaze. Blaine was frowning down at him, but the anger had gone. “A pet shouldn’t ask his master to do something like that,” Blaine whispered. They were the gentlest words he’d ever heard the lion utter, and Marrick would have given him anything if he’d just take them back. “Then maybe I’m not the pet you want,” he looked back to his wrist. “You can untie me now.” It wasn’t as if there was much point keeping the restraint in place, if that was how they really felt.

Blaine reached out as if to untie him, but half way through the movement, he seemed to change his mind. Ignoring the length of fabric still wrapped around his right wrist, the lion placed his palm flat in the center of Marrick’s chest. As he stared down at the other man’s hand, Marrick saw the lion’s nails morph into claws. They extended just enough for the tips of the sharp points to catch at Marrick’s skin. His chest stopped rising and falling. Marrick held his breath. He was pretty sure both lions did the same, as everything seemed to hang in the balance around them. As he watched, Blaine slowly started to move, dragging his fingertips down Marrick’s chest, his nails leaving barely visible scratches in their wake. Helpless to do anything else, Marrick arched against the mattress, pressing his skin up against the claws. A gasp escaped from him as pure relief swept through him like a torrent. Hand resting on Marrick’s stomach, Blaine somehow brought his claws back to their human form. Marrick couldn’t look away from his hand, not even to properly inspect the marks he’d left further up his body. A movement caught his eye. Luther reached out and gently caressed the light scratches. “You like being marked that way?” Luther asked. Marrick nodded. “By you, too?” he asked, not quite able to hide the hope in his voice. It was just a scratch. Part of him understood that. It wasn’t as if they’d suddenly declared that they’d happily whip every inch of skin off his body. But that didn’t matter right then. Although he was pretty sure he should be ashamed to admit it, the simple little scratches called to a part of Marrick the whip had never come close to. If the whip made him feel alive, the claws made him sure there was a paradise to be found in the afterlife—and for some reason he was being granted a sneak preview of just how glorious that would be. Blaine took his hand away. Reaching around Luther’s shoulders, he encouraged him nearer, so they both sat as close as they could to each side of Marrick’s body. Staring up at the other lion, Marrick watched the different emotions flash through his eyes. For several lifetimes, it seemed as if the shifter was either unwilling, or unable, to copy his lover. Finally, Luther placed his hand on Marrick’s skin, just as Blaine had a minute earlier. The lines he left were even fainter than those Blaine had painted on his skin. But they still called to Marrick. They still pushed more pleasure, more life, into him than any simple little scratch should.

“Roll over.” Marrick did as he was told, shuffling over onto his stomach, more than willing to offer his obedience in exchange for receiving the kind of orders that he loved so much. Luther sprang off the bed and collected the ties he’d dropped on the rug in his haste to have Marrick’s first limb bound. The material was quickly fastened around Marrick’s other wrist. His ankles followed. Then, nothing. Marrick lay face down on the bed and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do but wait and hope. The silence stretched out. The mattress remained completely steady as all the men failed to move upon it. It was almost possible to believe that the other men had disappeared into the ether, that he was all alone in the world. Fear spiked inside him at the idea of the other men not being there. Closing his eyes very tightly he waited out the moments until, just when he thought he might explode from sheer need to feel the shifter’s touch, a fingertip came to rest at the top of his spine. With glacial haste, Marrick felt Luther traced a line down the center of his back. He held his breath, waiting for him to break the skin, but the touch was as tender as any he had ever felt. Not even the mildest scratch lingered in his wake. His fingertip left Marrick’s skin. The mattress rocked slightly as one or both the lions shifted his weight. When another touch came, it wasn’t one finger, or even five. Ten claw tips came to rest of his skin—the claws from two men’s hands twined together. Eyes still closed, it was so easy for Marrick to imagine how the other men’s hands would look, one lion’s palm resting on the back of the other man’s hand, fingers crossing and intertwining as they both reached for him together. Marrick moaned in appreciation as all ten points settled just a fraction deeper into his back as he took a breath. As the lions’ hands remained twined together, their claws traced their way down Marrick’s back. When their hands disappeared from his world once more, Marrick dragged a shaky breath into his lungs. He’d never guessed that lying quietly on a bed could make him so breathless, that it could make his heart race so quickly—or that it could make his cock so hard. Blaine’s hand went to the back of Marrick’s right thigh. The bed dipped next to Marrick as Luther leaned forward and reached up toward one of his bound wrists. Their claws were still out.

As they laid more scratches against his skin, Marrick held nothing back from them. Arslan might have a loud roar and an impressive rank in the pride, but Marrick would be cheerfully damned before the guy succeeded in calling the shots when he and his lovers, and yes, maybe even when he and his one day masters, were alone together. Well aware there were times when a pleasure filled moan could do more to persuade a man than any scary roar. Marrick whimpered and gasped, doing everything he could to make it clear to the lions that they weren’t doing anything wrong—that they could do whatever they wanted with him and he’d be as fine with that as any lion could ever be. As another set of scratches grew down Marrick’s back, he felt a hard cock brush against his leg. He grinned against the pillow. He wasn’t the only one who loved this. The sheer fact they liked playing that sort of game with him, sent shockwaves through Marrick. His hips started to rock, just gently, as he rubbed his shaft against the mattress. He stilled when Blaine rested his hand on his arse. The lion scratched his claws gently against the round muscle, as if in praise, when he continued to hold himself still as his master wanted. Blaine’s hand moved away. A second later he felt a rough tongue lap at the lines his nails had left in their wake. Marrick moaned into his pillow. Luther’s chuckle caressed his skin. He sounded so happy, Marrick smiled with him as the shifter lifted his head away from him for a moment, before lowering his lips to other lines that decorated Marrick’s skin. Blaine soon followed the other lion’s lead, leaving as many licks and kisses on Marrick’s skin as he did scratches, joining in Luther’s chuckles as Marrick started to squirm under their teasing. Looking over his shoulder, he managed to catch glimpses of them as they began to steal kisses from each other while they tried to lap along the lines of the same set of scratches. “Please.” Blaine looked up. “Please,” Marrick couldn’t think of another word. He was pretty sure no other words existed, and while that was the case, being too proud to beg would have been a pitiful waste of time. “Please.” Twisting his head, he stared back at the other men. Their breaths were coming in pants. There was something in their eyes he’d never seen before—something they’d been hiding from him. Blaine lowered his lips to his skin once more, lapping at the small of his back as his claws trailed very gently over his buttocks, down to the sensitive skin just next to his hole.

Marrick’s muscles clenched and released under his touch. Luther followed his lead, slipping his hand between Marrick’s legs to palm his balls. His claws weren’t out, but that didn’t matter. Marrick knew they could be. Against all logic, that just shot more adrenaline through his veins. Marrick squirmed again. His cock achieved just a little bit of friction against the sheet beneath him. Without any warning, every muscle in his body tensed. He yelled out his pleasure as he tossed his head back. His hips pushed desperately against the blankets as his orgasm tore through him. He’d come, from nothing more than their claws and tongues dancing over his skin. Come without thought, without permission. When he managed to look over his shoulder, Marrick wasn’t sure what either shifter would think of that. But they both simply stared down at him, fascinated and victorious in equal measure. “I didn’t know humans could do that,” Luther admitted, keeping his voice to a whisper as if worried a louder sound might somehow spoil the moment. “Shocked the hell out of me too,” Marrick muttered into his pillow as he dropped his head forward. A second too late, he realized he’d just confessed that no other men had ever tripped his switch so easily. He was sure he should feel vaguely embarrassed, but his inner submissive simply smiled to itself, thoroughly sated and more than a little pleased that he had pleased his masters.

Chapter Five

“Are you to going to go and fetch him, or are you going to leave him standing on the doorstep all night?” Luther reluctantly took his lips away from Marrick’s neck and lifted his head. Arslan stared across the room at him, not looking the least happy with what he saw. Luther felt the same guilty shiver run down his spine as that particular expression on their leader’s face always produced. The fact that he was pretty sure he hadn’t done anything wrong didn’t change that. The older man could still make him feel like a foolish little cub with nothing more than a look. Finally Arslan’s order sank in. Doorstep. Fetch. He pulled away from Marrick. On the other side of their pet, he saw Blaine grudgingly do the same. They always went out and retrieved the offering from the humans—always. But doing that had never involved leaving Marrick before. Their pet looked up at each of them in turn. “What’s going on?” “The sacrifice has arrived,” Blaine explained. “Stay there.” Turning his back on their pet, Luther walked out into the night at his lover’s side. The man on the doorstep was bound in the same way humans always were upon delivery to the den. Each taking hold of one of his arms, the lions led him briskly into the den. He was much like any of the other men who had been thrown to them. He was well built for a human, his skin and hair darker than most. He smelt nervous, and his muscles were tense under Luther’s hand, but it was hard to make himself notice all the details that he’d have usually feasted his eyes on. The only thing he could think clearly about was the fact that Marrick had been left alone with the other members of the pride. He was perfectly safe there. Some part of Luther understood that, but it couldn’t make him like it. As soon as they stepped into the den, human sacrifice in tow, his eyes went straight to Marrick.

Their pet’s attention was all on their new guest. His eyes ran over the naked newcomer. It was impossible to read his expression. The moment the other man’s feet hit the hearth rug, Luther dropped his hold on him and retraced his steps to their pet. As Luther sat to one side of Marrick, quickly making himself comfortable, Blaine did the same the other side. “He’s here the same as I was?” Marrick said. It didn’t sound like a real question, but Luther nodded anyway as he curled in closer to his pet’s side, rubbing his forehead against his shoulder in greeting after their brief absence. Marrick’s eyes never strayed from the man standing in front of the fire. “Who decided you two would be the ones who screwed me?” Marrick asked, from nowhere. “We did,” Blaine said, running his hand over their pet’s stomach. “And whose turn is it this week?” Luther frowned as Marrick shrugged his shoulder, making it impossible for him to continue nuzzling him. “Whoever wants him,” he said, trying not to make it sound as if that should have been obvious—even to a human. “Should I be insulted?” Luther tilted his head to one side as he tried to make sense of the question. “That you two were the only guys who wanted to screw me,” Marrick specified. Luther felt the atmosphere around the sofa change. “You think we’d let anyone else lay a hand on you?” Blaine asked, ice dripping off every word. “You said anyone who wants a piece of the sacrifice can have him,” Marrick pointed out, in a tone Luther was pretty sure wasn’t nearly as mild as it sounded. “He’s not you.” The ice melted under a snarl. No other lion had approached the current sacrifice yet. Everyone seemed to be waiting for another lion to make the first move. “You can if you want to,” Marrick said, still staring at the man on the rug. Luther frowned, wondering what he meant. “Mated lions don’t play the game,” Blaine cut in. Luther caught up with the conversation.

“But neither of you are actually mated, are you?” Marrick said, in that same, strange tone of voice. Blaine’s eyes narrowed. Marrick had to know he was pushing the other lion’s buttons. Blaine had made no secret of the fact he wanted a formal invitation for Marrick to join the pride, to be made and accepted as soon as possible. The little scratches that decorated the other man’s skin wouldn’t keep Blaine content for much longer. Luther’s own hand clenched into a fist at his side. They wouldn’t keep him content forever either. “He’s cute,” Marrick observed. Blaine caught their pet’s chin between his fingers and made him look away from the sacrifice. From some distant edge of his senses, Luther heard another lion step up to the human and tell him the rules of the game. Arslan would make sure that man was fine. He wasn’t anything to do with them. Their job ended when he was brought in to face the others. Marrick was the only man they needed to concern themselves with now. Part of Luther wanted to roar with pride at that knowledge. Marrick was theirs. Even if that was not a recognized fact within the pride, they both knew it. And he was pretty sure Marrick knew it too, even if he didn’t want to admit it just yet. “No one else,” Blaine told him very seriously. “I never agreed to that.” “No one else.” Luther was pretty sure his lover would keep on repeating the demand until Marrick gave in and agreed to it. “Monogamy’s never been my thing.” Luther stared past him, watching Blaine’s expression. He’d kill him. Luther had no doubt about that. If another man laid a hand on their pet, the other lion wouldn’t be responsible for his actions toward the thief. But the thing that scared Luther even more than that, was the sudden realization that he might not even try to stop Blaine if that happened. But he did want to stop whatever tension might exist between the men he loved. Reaching past Blaine’s hand, he put his palm on Marrick’s cheek and turned the younger man to face him. Blaine made a disgruntled little noise, but he made no move to stop Luther claiming their pet’s attention.

“You wouldn’t go to another man without telling us, you wouldn’t take another lover behind our back, would you?” “I never said I—” Luther brushed his thumb over their pet’s lips, careful to keep his claws to himself. “Say it now?” he asked. “We’ll both rest easier if we knew you’re safe whenever we take our eyes off you.” “I can take care of—” Luther brushed his thumb across his mouth once more. “Let us rest easy anyway?” Marrick hesitated, staring up at him, as if saying any such thing would be a huge concession. “I wouldn’t do anything without telling you first.” Luther took his thumb away and replaced it with his lips, kissing him as gently as he knew how, before turning their pet to face his other master. That sort of gentleness wasn’t in Blaine right then. The kiss he offered their pet was all possession, all demands for him to submit to a more dominant force. One of his hands threaded through Marrick’s hair as well as the short strands allowed. He tilted their pet’s head back and devoured his mouth, yielding no ground to the human until he dragged a whimper from him. Success radiated off the other lion as he pulled back and stared down at Marrick. He turned the submissive back to Luther, offering him to him, to the only other man Luther knew he’d ever tolerate laying hand on what he considered his. Rather than take another kiss, Luther dipped his head and trailed his lips along Marrick’s neck, letting his tongue creep out to play across his skin and coax a pleased little murmur from him. Their pet’s body moved beneath his mouth as the other lion rearranged him between them until Marrick was leaning back against Blaine’s chest. The position offered his whole body up to Luther’s mouth to lick and kiss however he chose and he took full advantage of the present Blaine had made of him. Lowering his head, he lapped at one of the other man’s nipples. Scratches passed across it, where they’d played with him through the last few nights. Even now, it was impossible to consider letting their claws come out to play during the day when Arslan might catch them, but the long nights were the perfect chance to play and explore.

Their pet really loved being toyed with that way. He seemed to thrive under a sharp claw almost as much as he did under a rough tongue and while he was adamant that he didn’t need any more rest than a lion, it was hard to see any harm in the game. The only thing that did give Luther pause was the younger man’s requests for harder scratches, for rougher touches than they had been taught could be offered to a human. His tongue still working Marrick’s skin, Luther cast a fleeting look toward the man on the rug. He was already proving popular with the unmated lions. They were being just as gentle with him as they should. Luther had no interest in the new sacrifice. He had no inclination to lay a hand on him, but right then, he’d have dearly loved to stride onto the rug and unbind him, to bring the cuffs back to the sofa and put them on a pet who was far more to his taste. He wanted to see Marrick in real bondage so badly at that moment… A glance at the younger man’s wrists showed Blaine’s fingers wrapped tight around his skin. Luther looked up and met his lover’s eyes. There was no need for leather when a lion was already holding Marrick as tightly as any shifter could safely hold a human lover. The combination of teasing touches and a strong hold succeeded in pushing their pet to the edge as quickly as ever. There was a peculiar joy in realizing how well they knew their pet’s body now. No temptation of a new body to explore could compare with knowing just how to make their lover squirm and beg to be allowed to come. Licking his way down further, Luther quickly took the tip of the submissive’s cock into his mouth. While most eyes would be on the sacrifice before the fire, he had no doubt a few gazes would have strayed toward them by now, just as his and Blaine’s attention had wandered toward Arslan and Ryland just after they were mated. Everyone would be interested to see how well they had settled together. Luther looked up at his pet. Marrick didn’t blush the way Ryland had. He seemed perfectly content for the whole world to stare, for the whole pride to see that he belonged to them. Dipping his head lower, he sucked Marrick’s cock deeper into his mouth, into his throat. Just as he hoped, Marrick tossed his head back, arching against Blaine’s chest as he tried to thrust his way even further inside him. Already used to riding out such attempts, Luther brought his hands to rest on Marrick’s hips, pinning him against Blaine’s body, keeping him still enough to suck on comfortably.

A glance at Blaine showed how much the other lion was enjoying the friction as Marrick squirmed against him. Not willing to be left too far behind, Luther altered his hold on Marrick, freeing one of his hands so he could reach for his own cock. As every moment brought all three of them closer and closer to their pleasure, Luther gloried in the way their scents mixed in the air around them. They twined around each other, melding together until it was impossible to think that they might ever be separated. All too soon, Marrick bucked, unable to hold back a moment longer. A second later, Blaine gasped too. Luther looked up at both his lovers as pleasure flashed across their faces. Swallowing rapidly around Marrick’s cock, he took everything the younger man was able to give him, savoring his taste on his tongue while he could. His hand worked faster, until his own cum spilled into his palm. There was nothing he could do to draw out Blaine’s pleasure as his lover came against Marrick’s back, but he continued to suckle gently around Marrick’s cock as the younger man fell still, gasping for breath. His pet loved the feel of a warm mouth remaining wrapped around him while he softened. Luther let him enjoy it for several long minutes before he pulled away and let him slip delicately from between his lips. Rising forward on his knees, he licked his way up Marrick’s body and offered him a kiss. Sated and sleepy, he didn’t try to take the lead the way he did when he wanted to prompt them into providing him with deeper scratches and harsher touches. Another kiss, and Luther pulled away to offer the same to Blaine. Even he was mellow now, content not to squabble over exactly who was leading the kiss. When Luther pulled away from him, he sat back on his heels and merely enjoyed the picture the other men presented. Blaine released one of Marrick’s wrists. Their pet immediately reached for Luther’s hand and brought it to his lips to be licked clean. A tug at his arm encouraged him back onto the sofa and Marrick bowed his head over his lap to contentedly lick away the smears of cum that lingered along his cock. too. Luther stroked his fingers through their pet’s hair as he watched Blaine dip his head in turn and lick away the trails that decorated Marrick’s back in turn. Pulling his attention away from his lovers for a second, Luther saw that the other lions were coming to the end of their interest in the sacrifice. They were starting to look toward the tables where the food was to be about to be laid out.

Before too many minutes had passed, the trays were brought in. Leaving Marrick resting with Blaine, Luther walked up to the feast. Arslan had already taken his share, everyone else was free to take whatever they wished, but the older lion hadn’t returned to his seat. There was no way Luther could get close enough to collect any of the food and stay out of range of a conversation he’d have much rather avoided. “You leave scratches on Ryland’s back too,” he said, before Arslan had a chance to speak. He’d seen the marks on their leader’s mate. And, even if he hadn’t, he’d still know they he, Blaine and Marrick all needed the scratches that decorated the younger man’s skin. They needed the thin red lines to bind them together more with each day that passed. It took everything Luther had in him, to stand before his leader and hold his gaze, but he did it. To fail would have meant giving up far too much. “There’s a great deal of difference between marking your territory and treating your pet like a cub’s scratching post. A few marks are acceptable—but humans aren’t designed to be stripped from tip to toe.” Luther swallowed. “He likes them, too.” Arslan’s expression seemed to soften, just a fraction. “Sometimes taking a pet under your protection doesn’t always mean giving him what he wants. What he needs is more important.” Marrick needed the scratches just as much as they did, maybe even more. It was the only time he really seemed to be truly at peace. When he was bound, naked on their bed, writhing and thriving under their claws, he was happy. Luther knew that in some part of him that existed even before Arslan’s lessons had started. The older lion made his way back to Ryland and the fireside. Luther quickly piled their plate high with food and took it back to the sofa. “What did he say?” Blaine demanded, the moment he sat down. Luther looked to Marrick. “I’m not a child. I won’t be sent out of the room when the grownups want to talk about me.” Something in his voice made Luther sure it was important to him. The tension flooded back into the younger man. Luther reached out to him and stroked his fingers through his hair. “He just said we should be careful with you. Just as he’s careful with Ryland.” The comparison seemed to mollify him slightly. “We’re careful,” Blaine said.

“Does he think all subs are made of glass or something?” Marrick grumbled. “You and Ryland are very different from each other,” Luther offered. Marrick sighed as he leaned back against the sofa. “I’m sure he’s a nice guy, and a great master for Ryland and whatever, but he’s bloody annoying, too.” Luther stroked his fingers through his hair again, trying to comfort him without setting his hackles up. To his pleasure, Marrick curled in more comfortably against him, rather than pull away. He stayed that way as they shared their meal. Arslan spoke to each of the lions in his pride, checking in with them, ensuring all was well, but everyone’s attention was soon turning away from the emptied plates of food back to that week’s sacrifice. Luther stopped idly stroking his pet’s skin. His touch guided their pet to lift his head from his master’s shoulder and move into a different position. But while he seemed content to rest against him, he didn’t immediately show his enthusiasm for doing more than that. “You don’t want to…” Marrick hesitated. Luther was quick to realize why. “You’re right—you should rest.” “I do not need to rest.” The words were hissed very low, as if they were a secret no one else could know. Marrick took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. For a few seconds, he didn’t seem to know what to say. Finally, more words came. “You said that if I was going to be part of the pride, I’d have to get to know the other lions in the pride,” Marrick reminded him. Luther nodded. “It’s hard to have a sensible conversation with anyone while your cock’s buried balls-deep in my arse.” Luther couldn’t argue with the logic. A glance at Blaine showed that he was willing to agree with it as well. Luther only hesitated for a moment before the whole idea fell neatly under the heading of making sure his pet had whatever he required. If he needed to get to know the other lions before he could rest comfortably in the middle of the pride then he would. Marrick looked around the room. His gaze seemed to fall on Kefir. Luther smiled and beckoned the younger lion across the room.

Suddenly required to take part in the very conversation he’d asked for, Marrick found himself unable to think of a damn thing to say to the lion who sat on the floor before him. He was smaller than the other lions. If Marrick wasn’t very much mistaken, he was also the only sub in the pride, and the only mated lion whose mate wasn’t there that night. “Arslan asked you about a project?” Marrick finally managed to say. To his enormous relief, the words came out calm and steady. He didn’t sound anywhere near as exhausted as he felt. He was pretty sure no one would be able to guess his head was spinning with a sheer, overwhelming need for sleep. The smaller lion nodded. “Tell me about it?” Marrick asked. The little lion, Kefir, Marrick managed to remember through the haze his thoughts had descended into, seemed slightly surprised, but he nodded his willingness. “Lions haven’t always kept written records as well as humans have,” he said, a little shyly. “They need to be brought up to date, fitted together so they make sense.” “Records?” Marrick wasn’t sure if it was a sensible question, if he was making a fool of himself or not, but Blaine’s hand was stroking up and down his spine in a way that hinted the lion would like to stroke other places. If he couldn’t maintain the conversation, Marrick knew his only other option was to admit he couldn’t keep up with them both. That couldn’t happen. He’d battled his way into convincing them he wouldn’t break from the mildest touch of claws. He wasn’t going to undo all that good work now. Kefir glanced up at him. “Records of the prides, of which prides lions were born into— which prides the male cubs joined when they left those prides. The leaders remember things, but…” he looked down for a moment. A slight frown scurried across his forehead, making him look very serious. “Even the best leader can’t remember everything. Details are lost when they pass their knowledge.” His tone as he said it, was carefully respectful, as if the most important thing in his world was making sure he didn’t offend any leader of any pride. Marrick glanced across the room, then back to Kefir. “What does Arslan think of the project?” “He taught me about how humans keep records.” It was the tone of voice rather than what the little lion said that told the true story. The fact that Arslan was helping him with it obviously meant the whole world to the little guy. Marrick actually thought nice thoughts about the older man for a few seconds.

“To properly track each pride, details of the humans who join all the different prides would be helpful.” Marrick’s smile stayed in place. Mostly because he was too swirly headed to quickly make sense of what the other lion was trying to tell him. By the time his mind caught up, it was too late to tell the shifter he had no intention of joining the pride. Gradually, Luther and Blaine seemed to decide talking for a little while was a good idea. As his and Kefir’s conversation drew to its natural conclusion, other discussions started to flow around Marrick. As he looked around the room, he saw Ryland sitting at Arslan’s feet. The older lion was stroking his fingers through his pet’s hair. Ryland seemed to be far more than half asleep, content to let his master speak to the others while he took the rest he needed. Marrick turned quickly away, only to come face to face with Kefir once more. The little lion was still sitting on the floor not far from their sofa, watching him very carefully. There was a touch of concern in his eyes, but right then Marrick was too exhausted to work out if that was because he was wary of him, or worried for him or what. He looked away from the smaller man, forcing himself to keep his eyes open, demanding that he be strong enough not to drop off in the middle of the damn party. An entire lifetime passed before the human that had been thrown to the lions that night was taken outside and put into the car, much the same as Marrick had been not so long ago. He’d slept so beautifully that night… In that moment, he’d have willingly sold his soul for another full night’s sleep like that. In the confusion of all the other lions leaving and everything being cleared up, he found himself standing alone in the hallway. The thought of going back up to their bedroom rushed to his cock as quickly as ever, but hot on its heels came uncertainty. It was one thing to know he could keep up with the lions kinks, quite another to try to keep up with their apparent fetish for insomnia. Grabbing a long coat from the rack, he walked out of the front door and calmly sat down in the middle of the lawn to one side of the gravel driveway. Just as he hoped, the night air was chilly. It snapped a little bit of wakefulness into him, clearing his head and letting him think coherently for what felt like the first time in years. The gravel crunched behind him, just once. Unless the footfall belonged to someone who had been able to fly over the rest of the gravel between the door and the edge of the lawn, it

belonged to someone who’d been able to walk that far perfectly silently, but who now wanted him to know he was there. Marrick looked over his shoulder. Kefir stood a few paces behind him. “I thought you’d left.” “I’ve been speaking with Arslan.” The smaller lion hesitated for the briefest moment before sitting down next to him, quickly pulling his knees up in front of him and wrapping his arms around his legs like a little kitten curling into a ball. “You should go in,” Marrick told him. “You’ll get cold.” “Humans get cold quicker than lions.” Marrick couldn’t even argue with him on that score. He’d hardly been away from his lovers for a few minutes, but he could already feel the chill seeping into his bones. They might be as annoying as hell, but it was hard to deny that lions made bloody fantastic hot water bottles. Pissed off with himself for feeling uncomfortable just because he wasn’t being kept perfectly snug every second of the day, Marrick glared at the smaller lion. “If you’re going to tell me to go inside, forget it. I don’t need looking after like that.” Kefir tilted his head to one side like an inquisitive little tabby cat. “I didn’t tell you to go inside,” he pointed out, mild as ever. Marrick sighed and ran his hand down his face. “Sorry. I’m just…” No, he couldn’t say he was just tired. He couldn’t risk the guy running back to Luther and Blaine, telling them he couldn’t keep up with the pace. Tilting his head back, Marrick looked up at the sky again. Kefir sat silently next to him. He didn’t seem the least offended that Marrick was ignoring him. Which only actually made it all the more difficult to keep doing that. “The project—mapping out the lions’ family trees and stuff. Sounds good,” he offered. Kefir nodded. Marrick took a deep breath and let it out very slowly as he lay back on the cold ground so he could continue to stare up at the sky without getting a crick in his neck. The other man’s simple silence seemed to suck the words out of him to fill the void. “Do you and your mate find the whole lion-human bullshit really annoying too?” “My mate?” The shifter seemed a little unfamiliar with the concept.

“The guy who was just thrown to you—I thought all the unmated lions took a turn with him. You didn’t.” “It’s not compulsory,” Kefir said, softly. Marrick glanced sideways at him, not sure what to say. “Arslan says it’s nothing to worry about. One day I’ll…take an interest in one of the humans who are thrown to us, then I’ll want to play the game.” “And Arslan’s always right about everything,” Marrick asked, unable to keep a little of the resentment out of his voice as he stroked his fingers over the scratches Luther and Blaine had left on his arm. He’d seen the look in the older man’s eyes when Arslan spotted them, and he’d sensed the change in his lovers, felt the change in the way they touched him. His own fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist, just to remind himself that he wouldn’t break if someone wanted to hold him that way. He wasn’t some fragile little kid any more. “Luther and Blaine both care for you a great deal,” Kefir said after a little while. Marrick nodded. He had doubts about a hell of a lot of things, but that wasn’t one of them. Suddenly Kefir stood up and brushed off his clothes. “I should get home.” Marrick sat up. A sound on the gravel made him look over his shoulder. Blaine and Luther weren’t as quiet as Kefir had been. Looking back to Kefir, he met the other man’s eyes. He’d been keeping watch over him, making sure he didn’t disappear until his mates came to find him. As their gazes locked, any doubts he might have had on that score vanished. “You didn’t tell us you were going outside,” Luther chided as he reached him. “You didn’t tell me I needed your permission to,” Marrick said, as calmly as he could. Luther and Blaine sat down next to him, one either side. The warmth of their bodies immediately surrounded him. He hated himself for loving that. “We’d tell you where we were going if we thought you would worry about us when we were gone.” Marrick nodded, still staring down the drive, where the other lion had vanished off to. The little guy was half his size, and they let him walk off into the dark with barely a shrug. “Any particular reason why he thinks I need a babysitter?”

“Kefir? He doesn’t like it when the other members of the pride aren’t happy,” Blaine said, as if that accounted for everything. Luther seemed to realize it didn’t actually explain a damn thing. “When Ryland disappeared a few months ago, Arslan was frantic. We all kept watch over him until he’d regained the trust of his mate.” Marrick nodded. A babysitter. As if he’d needed anything else to remind him just how weak and helpless all the lions thought he was. “We should go inside.” Marrick didn’t even bother with a token protest. Within minutes he was up in their room, toasty warm, perfectly comfortable and miserable as sin. “You liked the meeting?” Luther asked. Marrick nodded automatically. “We liked you being there.” The serious tone of voice finally sank in. His being there had really meant something to the shifter. Luther came to sit on the bed next to him. For once, he didn’t reach out to touch him, to start something. Marrick lifted his gaze and met the other man’s eyes. “It happens every week?” Marrick asked. Blaine nodded as he joined them on the bed and encouraged him to lie down between his lovers. “Must cost a fortune,” he mused, more for something to say than anything else. “You’re sure you’re not upset about keeping the money?” Luther checked. Marrick shook his head as he moved it to rest against Blaine’s shoulder. “Couldn’t care less.” Blaine didn’t look convinced. “Ryland insisted that he be allowed to pay it back on his own terms.” Marrick nodded, sleepily, guessing that he’d only been there in the first place because he needed the money and he really had been whoring himself out for it. Poor sod. Closing his eyes, he curled a little closer to the lion’s warmth. Blaine’s hand stroked down his back, smoothing over his arse until he stopped just short of teasing him. He took his hand away, the atmosphere around them changed. “You’re tired after the meeting. You should res—” “I’m fine.”

They both looked so bloody skeptical. Marrick felt familiar tensions pour into him. Pulling himself up off the mattress, he slid one leg over Blaine’s prone body and straddled his waist. The shifter was already hard. The expression in Blaine’s eyes changed, from shock, to seeing a challenge, to confusion— confusion over how he could move him from his current position without hurting him. He’d have tossed Luther half way across the room. Marrick had seen him do it. It was his instinctive response to a challenge. Marrick would have given everything to feel his back hit the floor right then. It wasn’t about winning the challenge. He had no interest in that. But maybe to be seen as a challenge. Or just to be seen as someone he could play rough with without worrying about it…someone who was strong enough, someone who was healthy enough… Blaine’s hands settled carefully on his flanks. He rolled them both very carefully to the side, laying him tenderly on the mattress. Marrick smiled up at his lover, wondering if the expression looked half as forced as it felt.

Chapter Six

Ouch! Marrick opened the boot of the taxi and heaved his bike out of back. It wasn’t an easy task to accomplish when it felt like someone had set fire to his shoulder. Leaning the bike against his side, he dug into his back pack and pulled out his wallet. Cab paid for, he watched it drive away while he tried to build up the energy to walk into the house. He turned toward the front door, just in time to see Luther and Blaine stride out. They crossed the gravel in long, sweeping strides. For once, Marrick just stood there and waited for them to do all the running. As Luther reached his side, Marrick handed him his back pack. The lion took it on automatic, but he didn’t stop frowning. “You’re hurt.”

Marrick didn’t say anything sarcastic, despite a very strong temptation to do so. Blaine reached out and caught his arm when he would have tried to wheel his bike past him, toward the house. Marrick’s breath stalled in his throat. He made a mental note not to try to fight anyone for possession of that arm until his shoulder stopped hurting like hell. Looking up, he met Blaine’s eyes. The lion looked down at his grip on Marrick’s arm, confusion filling his expression. He let go of his arm. Marrick handed the bike off to him and made his way into the house. All his energy went on making sure he didn’t look as if his whole body hurt with every step. He was pretty sure he was successful, so he didn’t really expect the lions to face him with thunderous expressions when they walked into the den just a moment after him. “You’re hurt,” Luther accused again. “I’m fine—” “The truth,” Blaine demanded. “Truth?” Marrick managed a chuckle. “I feel like I was run over by a lorry.” “You were run over by—” “I feel as if I was. I wasn’t actually—” Marrick shook his head, rubbing at his temple. The cycle helmet might have stopped him cracking his skull open on the edge of the pavement, it hadn’t stopped him getting a blinding headache. “A car tapped my back wheel. I fell off the damn bike. That’s all. I’m fine.” He carefully lowered himself down onto the sofa and collapsed gratefully against the blessedly soft cushions. “You’re in pain,” Luther said, crouching down in front of him. Marrick met his eyes, he saw the concern for him reflected there. “A headache and a wrenched shoulder. That’s all. I’ll be fine by Monday. And the bike’s—” “No.” Marrick stared up at the other lion. “No, what?” he asked. Blaine glared back down at him, eyes full of anger. “You can’t keep riding that contraption around the city all day. It’s not safe.” “It’s a perfectly normal mountain bike and—” “No.” Marrick took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. At least one person in the room needed to remain reasonable. It seemed like he was the only candidate for the position right then. “It’s my job.” He was amazed how calm the words sounded on his lips.

“No.” Somewhere the energy needed to fuel a huge burst of anger flooded into him. “Sorry, but I must have missed the point where I gave you the right to decide what I should do for a living.” “There’s no reason why you need to work at all,” Blaine snapped. “You could just—” “Just be your pet?” Marrick asked. Blaine didn’t seem to sense anything odd about his tone of voice as he asked the question. He nodded as if that was a perfectly reasonable suggestion. “Yes.” “No.” Marrick snapped. “Not going to happen.” Blaine folded his arms across his chest. Marrick was pretty sure he wasn’t consciously trying to channel Arslan—it was still a bloody good impression of the stance the older lion used on the two of them whenever they did something particularly bratty. “Pets should listen to their masters. Arslan says—” Marrick pulled himself to his feet. “One—I’ve never said I’m willing to be your pet. Two—you guys sure as hell aren’t my masters. Three—Arslan doesn’t know half as much about humans as you think he does.” Blaine merely continued to stare down at him as if he hadn’t spoken, or maybe as if he’d heard him, but since he wasn’t a lion nothing he said really mattered. Luther put a calming hand on Marrick’s good shoulder. “The word’s not an insult.” Marrick looked at him, then across to Blaine and back again. They weren’t trying to act like pillocks. Part of him knew that. They were trying to look after him, trying to wrap him safe in cotton wool. He’d have liked them better if they’d wanted to whip him for taking such a bloody stupid tumble. He’d have rather they do that than flood his mind with memories of too many years spent in too many hospitals. “It sure as hell sounds like an insult from where I’m standing.” Worse even than that, they sounded just like the words his parents used when they’d sat him down at seven years old and explained to him that—no, he couldn’t go out on his bike and play with the other boys. Luther stroked his fingers through his hair in a blatant attempt to calm him down. “You just need time to get used to your place in the pride.” Marrick ducked his head, moving away from the other man’s touch. “I’m not joining the pride—I’m staying with you guys for a few days. You understand that that’s different, right?”

Neither Blaine nor Luther made any comment. ”I never said anything about joining anyone,” Marrick rushed out. And he sure as hell hadn’t agreed to let anyone feel the way he had back in that bloody hospital. “Arslan says that such agreements take time—that some dealings with humans can’t be rushed.” “I’m not negotiating a contract,” Marrick snapped. “I’m telling you that unless you stop treating me as if I’m made of glass in the next few seconds, I’m out of here.” Luther slipped his arm around him. “Everything will be fine,” the other lion whispered to him. Blaine nodded his agreement, adding his promise to it. “Arslan says—” Marrick took a deep calming breath, somehow that only succeeded in making him feel more pissed off than ever. Squirming around the other man’s embrace, he pushed the shifter away from him as hard as could, setting off new flames in his shoulder. Luther stumbled back a step, but more because he seemed surprised than because he couldn’t have held his ground if he’d wanted to. A human would have been slammed into the wall with the force of the shove. The fact they were no doubt right when they said they were much stronger than him didn’t make Marrick feel the least bit better about the situation. It took all the strength he had left not to reach up and grab his shoulder and curse but somehow he managed to stand there, perfectly still. He looked from one lion to the other and back again. They were both watching him slightly warily, the same way sane people watched hysterical people—pitying them and patronizing them in the most annoying way possible. “Arslan says—” “You’re not screwing Arslan!” Marrick yelled. Blaine and Luther both stopped short, staring at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You’re not screwing Arslan, you’re screwing me,” Marrick repeated, only slightly more calmly. “I don’t use my family as an excuse when I want to get my own way—and you two bloody well need to learn how to speak for yourselves without quoting the guy as if he’s the font of all knowledge.” Luther opened his mouth. He closed his mouth. “And you need to stop treating me as if I’m some fragile little thing.” “Humans are—” Luther began. “Did I look fragile up on that stage in the club? Did I look like the kind of man who’s afraid of a bit of rough play?”

“That was wrong,” Luther snarled. “No, it—” “He was hurting you!” Blaine roared. “Because I wanted him to, because I like it!” Marrick yelled. “Humans have to be looked after and—” Luther began. “And lions need to learn to grow a pair and think for themselves! What about what we do together every night?” They’d made progress during those long sleepless nights. He’d felt it in every scratch they layered on his skin. They’d started to see him as something better than they’d first believed him to be, something stronger than what they thought a human could be. Luther looked down. “That was wrong too. It can’t happen again.” Marrick swallowed rapidly. If that was how they really felt about him. There didn’t seem to be anything left to say. He turned away from them both and strode toward the front door. Blaine stepped in front of him. He didn’t reach out to hold on to him. It was as if he thought he was too fragile even for that. The lion just blocked his way. Marrick heard Luther step past them and shut the door leading out into the hallway. “I’m not staying here for this.” Luther leaned back against the closed door. Blaine didn’t move an inch. “You can’t leave.” “Are you going to keep me prisoner?” Marrick asked. In spite of everything, the idea appealed. A locked room. Cuffs. Chains. Cages. It would be perfect. Except it wouldn’t be like that. It wouldn’t be like living in a kinky little fantasy. There would be no pain, no bondage, no life in the existence they had planned for him. It would be like being back in hospital, with the whole world telling him what he was and wasn’t strong enough to do. “The only way you’re going to stop me leaving, is to tie me up again.” Some stupidly hopeful part of him actually thought they might say that would be fine with them—that they might realize they were acting like idiots and brush the whole stupid thing away as a moment of silly panic on their behalf. “That can’t happen again,” Blaine announced. The door handle rattled. The door swung open only to be stopped short by Luther’s back. For a second, the lion held his ground as if unwilling to let anyone in. Finally, he stepped aside to let the leader of the pride into the room. Arslan looked at each of them in turn. “What’s going on?” “I’m leaving,” Marrick said, before either of the lions had a chance to speak.

“No, he’s not. He—” Blaine began. “He has the right to leave whenever he wishes,” Arslan cut in When Blaine would have spoken again, Arslan held up a hand. “The matter is not up for debate.” He turned back to Marrick. “You wish to leave?” Marrick couldn’t meet the older man’s eyes as he nodded. “Collect whatever you wish to take with you.” Stepping back, he held the door open for him. As he walked out Marrick felt the atmosphere in the room change as Blaine and Luther stared across at Arslan, and their leader stared back at them. When he came down with his bag a minute or two later, the door leading into the den was closed. Arslan was the only lion in the hallway. His car keys were in his hand. “I can get a taxi,” Marrick said. Arslan didn’t even bother to argue about it. Taking Marrick’s bag from him, he carried it out and put it in his car. The bike was already in there. Marrick got in, doing his best to jostle neither his head nor his shoulder in the process. He waited for Arslan to start the car, but the lion turned to him instead. “You’re hurt.” Marrick ground his teeth together. “I’m fine.” “You’re favoring your right shoulder. The way you’re holding you head suggests it’s causing you pain.” Marrick stared straight out of the windshield. “I took a tumble off my bike, that’s all.” Arslan reached out to him. The grip he took on his chin wasn’t painful, but Marrick found he had little choice but to turn and look at the other man the way he obviously wanted him to. “That’s the truth?” the shifter pushed. It took him a moment to realize what the other man was trying to find out. “It’s nothing to do with them. I fell off my bike. They weren’t even on the same side of town as me when it happened.” Arslan continued to study him for several seconds before he finally released him, apparently content with the explanation. He started the car and they drove some way in silence. “You’re leaving them because you fell off your bike on the other side of town?” the older lion asked eventually.

“I’m leaving,” Marrick ground out. “Because I’m sick of being treated as if I’ll break at the least little thing. I’ve had enough of that to last anyone a lifetime. I’m not going to volunteer for more of the bloody same.” Arslan drove on in silence for what felt like a long time. Only Marrick’s directions to his house broke the stillness that settled over the interior of the car. “Have you asked them why they’re so determined to be careful with you?” Arslan said. “Apparently someone has drummed it into them that humans are weaker than lions. They have to be kept safe and cosseted.” There was no way in hell he could have kept the bitterness out of his voice, he didn’t even try. “If you’re waiting for me to apologize, you’re going to be disappointed,” Arslan said, very calmly as he maneuvered around a corner. “Not every man is like Ryland,” Marrick snapped. The lion’s grip on the steering wheel turned white knuckled. By that time, they’d reached his street. Arslan pulled up outside his house, and silently took the bike out of the boot of his car for him. Marrick was too exhausted to really care if the lion was pissed off with him for the way he spoke about Ryland. All he wanted was to get as far away from all the lions as he could and sleep for the next few years. “Thanks for the lift,” he managed to mutter. Hand on the car door, Arslan paused. “Next time you speak to them, perhaps you should ask them why the tradition of lions receiving human sacrifices started,” Arslan suggested. “And why they obey my orders regarding the way humans need to be cared for, when they’re quick to make their own choices on so many other things.” “Thanks, but I’m not planning to—” Arslan got in the car without waiting for him to finish. “—rush back to chat with them,” Marrick finished to the empty street. If he never set eyes on another lion, it would be too soon. Turning away from even the memory of them, he made his way up the path and closed his front door firmly behind him. Leaning against the dark paneled wood, he could only hope he’d be able to close them out of his mind just as easily. ***** “Do you think the sacrifices feel this nervous standing on our doorstep?”

Blaine said nothing in response. He didn’t really need too. Luther could see the stress of the situation swirling inside the other lion. The front door swung open. An older version of Marrick stood on the other side of the threshold. “Hello?” For a second, all Luther could do was blink at the older man. It was almost like seeing what Marrick would look like in twenty-five years time, and it only made him all the more desperate to hear their pet say that he’d still be with them that far into the future. “We’d like to speak to Marrick, please,” Blaine said. Marrick’s father smiled and stepped back to let them in. “You’re both friends of his?” he asked as he walked down the hallway and into another room. “Yes,” Luther said. “Very good friends.” The older man nodded. “Take a seat, I’ll call him down.” Luther looked around the room. It was much smaller than the rooms in Arslan’s house, and very full of furniture. Anyone who tried to shift into another form in there would be bound to knock over a dozen things at once. Within a few minutes the room was also full of people. Before Luther knew quite what was going on, he found himself sitting next to Blaine on a bright red sofa with a mug of tea in his hand, and Marrick’s mother sitting in the armchair opposite them, studying them both very carefully. It was all Luther could do not to tug at his shirt collar as he tried not to let his nerves show in front of their pet’s pride. “Do you boys work with Marrick?” Marrick’s father asked as he sat in the armchair next to Marrick’s mother. “No,” Blaine said, carefully balancing the mug on his other hand. “We both work at Harpers—it’s a legal practice in town.” The older man nodded. He seemed to be relatively impressed. “So, how did you meet?” Luther turned his attention to Marrick’s mother. She had a strange light in her eyes, a half smile playing around his lips. “Marrick was thrown to our pride.” The older lady blinked at him. “Thrown to your pride…” she repeated. Luther nodded. “Your pride…you’re…” The expression in her eyes faltered as she trailed off.

Luther hesitated for a moment. Arslan had taken great pains to explain to them that humans could sometimes have some strange ideas about shifters. “Lions,” Luther finished for her, when it seemed there was no chance of her finishing the sentence without assistance. “Lions live in prides.” “Yes,” Marrick’s mother smiled. “Yes, of course they do. And Marrick was…thrown to you?” Luther nodded. There’d been tea on the base of his mug. It had left a damp ring mark on the trousers of his best suit, where he’d rested it in the hope of hiding the slight unsteadiness in his hands. He swiped at the mark, but there was little he could do about it. “A sacrifice is thrown to the pride every week,” Blaine expanded. Luther glanced toward his lover. He was having troubles of his own. The Powells’ pet dog seemed to have taken a particular liking to him. Luther watched the other lion try to gently turn the dog away from him while simultaneously trying to balance his tea. Luther looked across to the Powells. They still seemed to be waiting for one of them to say something more. “It’s a tradition,” he offered. “Of human sacrifice?” Mr. Powell checked, in a very strange tone of voice. Luther nodded, as he looked from one member of Marrick’s family to another. They were all staring at them as if they had said something very wrong. “And what exactly do the humans who take part in the ritual actually sacrifice?” Mrs. Powell asked. “Time!” Luther turned in his seat. A moment later he was on his feet. Marrick stood in the doorway. His hair was wet, as if he’d just stepped out of the shower. His clothes clung to him as if he’d still been damp when he pulled them on. Their pet stood there right there in front of them, more perfect than anything Luther had ever seen and he didn’t have a clue what to say to him. Blaine had also risen the moment he realized Marrick was there. He stood silent next to Luther, apparently no more capable of finding the right words than he was. Marrick’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Humans give their time to the pride. It’s a way of letting lions get to know about humans and um…human culture and stuff, isn’t it?”

Luther stared at him for a few seconds. The last words were said in a very specific tone of voice. Breaking eye contact with the other man for a moment, he looked at Blaine. His lover nodded his willingness to pretend that was the truth. Luther echoed the gesture. “Well, isn’t that nice?” Marrick’s mother said, her smile once more bright. “Would you like a piece of cake?” Lowering themselves back into their seats, they each obediently took a slice and found themselves with one more thing to try to balance. “You said you live in a pride?” the older lady asked. “Yes.” Blaine said. Luther merely nodded, not sure what else could be added to the answer. “That must be…nice.” “Arslan is a good leader,” Luther offered, keen to show the pride to its best advantage. “And he’d be your…father?” Luther shook his head. “Males leave their parents’ pride when they come of age.” He glanced across at their pet. It seemed to be as good a time as any to raise the topic. A glance at Blaine confirmed his lover agreed. “At Marrick’s age, a lion would have already left his parents’ pride and joined a new pride.” “To join Arslan’s pride, for instance?” Mrs. Powell asked, glancing toward her son. “Would anyone like another piece of cake?” Marrick cut in, rushing the words out so quickly, they blurred together. His mother hushed him in an absent minded way. “Yes,” Blaine said, with a confused look in Marrick’s direction. “To join our pride.” “Humans do that?” Mr. Powell asked. “There’s already a human in our pride.” Luther said, not quite able to hide how pleased they both were to be able to report that, sure that it would reassure Marrick’s current pride a great deal. “He’s Arslan’s mate.” “And is he the only human you know?” Luther frowned slightly. “You talk about him as if he is,” she added, not entirely unkindly. “He’s the only human in the pride.” Luther was silent for a few seconds as he thought about that. “I don’t think Marrick and Ryland are very alike,” he forced himself to admit. “Marrick’s always been inclined to do things his own way,” his mother said, smiling across the room at her son.

Marrick didn’t smile back. He was watching him and Blaine the same way Luther thought a man might watch an unexploded bomb. “The longer he stays with us the better we’ll understand him,” Luther offered, not so much to her but to Marrick himself. When Arslan had come back to the den after driving him home, he hadn’t been willing to discuss what Marrick might have said to him, but that piece of advice had been delivered very seriously. Talk. Listen. It was a master’s responsibility to find out what his pet needed from his mate, and to make sure he gets it. “So it was you boys he was staying with?” Marrick’s father asked. Luther titled his head to one side. “He didn’t tell you that?” Marrick met his eyes. “No, I didn’t.” “You shouldn’t disappear without telling your pride where you are,” Blaine chided. “You’ll worry them.” “I said I was staying with friends,” Marrick corrected. “Everyone knew how to reach me if they needed me.” “And how did you both come to join Arslan’s pride?” Marrick’s mother cut in. “Our parents arranged for us to join him. Their lands shared a border. They knew we wished to join the same pride when we came of age. Arslan’s pride is the only one in the area that receives male sacrifices.” For some reason the atmosphere in the room changed as the words hit the air. Silence stretched out around them. “Is that how Arslan and Ryland met?” Mrs. Powell finally asked. Luther nodded. “He was thrown to us last year. He’d left his own pride some years before, so Arslan wasn’t able to visit the leaders of his pride to speak to them.” “That’s why you’re here—to ask for our blessing to…court Marrick?” Luther nodded. The human words sounded about right. Blaine leaned forward in his seat. “You agree that Marrick is old enough to leave his pride?” “Marrick is also old enough to speak for himself,” Marrick cut in, quiet fury suddenly filling his voice, clipping each word short. “You’re part of your parents’ pride. You should do as they say.” “I knew there was something I liked about them.”

Luther heard Marrick’s father whisper the words to his mother, but he didn’t look away from Marrick to reply. Mrs. Powell cleared her throat. “His…pride, thinks it’s best if no one rushes into anything. There will be plenty of time to talk about Marrick becoming your…” “Mate,” Luther filled in. “We’ll take good care of him. Better care of him than he understands he needs.” His mother smiled gently at him as their eyes met. “I can take care of myself,” Marrick cut in. “You were given the all clear, sweetie, not an invincibility cloak. You need to remember that sometimes.” “All clear?” Luther asked. “You’re ill,” Blaine said, at the same time. “I’m fine,” Marrick said, every word brittle. “I was ill when I was little, but I’m fine now.” “You should have told us,” Luther chided. “If it was relevant, I’d have told you. It’s not—I’m fine.” Luther looked across to his parents. “No.” Marrick snapped, leaning forward in his chair. “I’m fine. You don’t need anyone else to tell you that. You’ve got no reason to think I’m lying to you, but if you don’t trust me then at least have the guts to say so outright.” “We do trust you,” Luther said, slowly, meaning every word of it. Marrick didn’t seem the least bit mollified. “I think, perhaps, it would be best if we left you boys alone to chat in private,” Mr. Powell said as the silence stretched out once more. Luther was vaguely aware of Marrick’s parents leaving the room, but he found himself incapable of looking away from their pet. Marrick stood up. Luther and Blaine were on their feet a second later. “Did Arslan tell you where I live?” Luther shook his head. “We followed you.” Marrick swallowed. “When?” “What?” “I haven’t gone out since Arslan brought me back here. You can’t have followed me home in the last few days, if I haven’t been anywhere.”

“Before we found you in that club,” Blaine admitted. Marrick nodded. “We couldn’t look after you if we didn’t know where you were.” Marrick’s arms were folded across his chest. His grip on his opposite arms tightened. “You shouldn’t have come here.” “Your parents—” “Now know that I’ve been screwing two werelions for the last fortnight,” Marrick snapped. “Excuse me if I don’t think that’s a good thing!” Luther took a step toward him. Marrick tensed as if he sensed him approach and didn’t like it. Looking over his shoulder, Luther met Blaine’s eyes. “There’s no rush,” the other lion said. Marrick turned to stare at him. “We’ll wait.” “For what?” Marrick asked. “For you to come back.” “Nothing’s changed,” Marrick said. “I still feel exactly the same way as I did when I left.” Striding past them, he led the way out into the hall. Opening the door, he stood next to it, arms crossed once more. Luther and Blaine slowly filed out of his house. Just as he was about to cross the threshold, Luther hesitated. Marrick stared straight past him, refusing to meet his eyes. Holding back a sigh, the shifter forced himself to walk away. ***** Regardless of what Marrick might have said in his parting shot to the lions, he couldn’t help but be aware that a hell of a lot of things had changed since the night he first met them. As he lay on his bed in the darkness that night, he could at least take reassurance in the fact his bedroom ceiling was still the same as it had always been. It hadn’t changed while he’d been away with the lions. It hadn’t altered through all the hours he’d stared at it since he came home either. Sitting up, Marrick pushed his hand through his hair. He was pretty sure he no longer had the capacity to sleep when he wasn’t surrounded by two hot, shifter bodies. The exhaustion he’d felt when he was with them, hadn’t improved now that there were any claws or tongues to keep him awake. If anything, it was getting worse.

Pulling on an old pair of track bottoms, he wandered through the house down to the garage, unable to face another minute staring at that same patch of ceiling. His bike was still turned upside down in the middle of the room. Rolling his shoulders at the memory of that tumble, he found it had fully healed over the last few days. Something was going right, even if nothing else was. He’d barely had time to glance at the bike when he heard the door leading into the house open behind him. He looked over his shoulder, against all logic, half expecting to see a lion there. He wasn’t sure if it was hope or fear that put the idea in his head. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when he saw his father standing in the doorway. “Everything okay?” “Probably not,” his dad said, moving across the room to lean against the old work bench. “It’s usually a bad sign when your mother whispers to me to go and talk to your son.” Marrick smiled slightly as he returned his attention to the bike. “So.” His father cleared his throat. “Werelions.” Marrick covered his mouth to hold back a burst of exhaustion fuelled laughter. If nothing else, it was good to know there was someone in the world who found the idea of him discussing the topic of gay-shifter sex with his father even more embarrassing than he did. When he looked over his shoulder and met his father’s eyes, he saw the humor reflected back at him. “They seemed like…nice boys?” his father hazarded after a few moments. Marrick nodded, turning his gaze back to his bike. “Still determined to squeeze everything you can out of life,” his father asked a moment later. “I promised.” Marrick hadn’t even realized that the words were in his head, let alone that he was about to say them out loud, but they were suddenly there. He’d promised. He made the mistake of closing his eyes for a moment, and it all came flooding back to him. The smell of the hospital was all around him. He quickly forced his eyes open, forced the memories away. But the fact still remained, he’d promised. If he got to have a life, he wouldn’t waste a moment of it. No decades spent miserable in a job he hated. No letting fear stop him trying anything and everything once. No ties, no repeat

performances. And no one who’d get in the way of him squeezing every little thing he could from his life, either. “There’s living a life not restrained by fear, and there’s acting like a suicidal little fool. Which do you think playing with lions should be considered?” his father asked. Marrick took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. “It’s not like it sounds. They’re just…not used to humans. I don’t think they really understand the way we work.” His father made a non-committal sound. “Look on the bright side,” Marrick said, his eyes fixed firmly on the wheel. “At least, you don’t have to worry there’ll be any cubs coming along any time soon.” “Your mother’s still worried about you.” Marrick swallowed. “She doesn’t need to be.” “I think it comes with the job. Parents worry about their children. It’s the way the world works.” Marrick hesitated. These types of conversations always took the same route. It didn’t matter if it was after he’d had a rough day at school or if he was fixing his bike in the middle of the night. His father came and said his mother was worried. Admitting she wasn’t the only parent with concerns was new. “I’m fine. So’s the bike.” He spun the wheel around. But he didn’t rise from his position kneeling in front of the repaired bit of equipment. He still had no idea what to say about it all, had no idea what to think about it all either. He rubbed his hand through his hair. “She wasn’t fussing when she said you looked tired when you came home.” He never had been very good at lying to either of his parents. He doubted he had the energy to pull off any sort of attempt at it right then. “I’ll make sure I get more sleep,” he offered, wishing he had some idea how to do that. His father didn’t sound very convinced when he murmured that he’d heard. “How’s work going?” Marrick breathed a sigh of relief as he realized all the questions he’d been dreading weren’t going to be asked. “It’s good.” “The same job for, what is it now, a whole three months—does that make it an official record?” “It’ll do until something else comes along. I won’t say no if something different is offered up,” Marrick said quickly.

“Even though you really love what you’re doing now.” Marrick shrugged. “Isn’t there some saying about people always regretting the opportunities they didn’t take far more than the mistakes they made?” “Probably, there’s a saying for everything. There’s probably one that means there’s no shame in telling your family if you get yourself out of your depth and need their help too.” Marrick shook his head. “They’re not a problem. Like you said, they’re nice guys. ” Maybe even the kind of guys who would tempt him to stay put with the same lovers for longer than he should, if he was serious about keeping the promise he made to himself. “It’s your life, and I know better than to tell you what to do. But I can’t help noticing you’ve been as miserable as sin since you came home. The only time I’ve actually seen you look alive is when they came to visit.” Marrick couldn’t meet his eyes. As much as he wished he could call it a lie, it had been the only time he’d felt alive too. “There are worse things to miss out on than variety,” his father mentioned, almost casually, as he patted him on the shoulder and left the room. Marrick nodded his understanding. Part of him wanted to believe that he was home, surrounded by safety and comfort and all he had to do was stay there for everything to be fine. The idea of doing anything else made the breath catch in his throat. Marrick’s teeth bit into his bottom lip. The idea of living life to the full wasn’t about never being afraid. The way to really feel alive was to feel the fear and do it anyway. That was what being alive was all about. He had a horrible feeling it was what being in love with the two men was all about too. Walking back up the stairs to his bedroom, he couldn’t help but think it would have been a hell of a lot easier to embrace the fear if he wasn’t quite so bloody terrified.

Chapter Seven

Marrick hesitated as he pushed open the front door and stepped into Arslan’s house. He’d been pretty much allowed to come and go as he pleased when he’d been staying there. He doubted the same rules applied right then. Just as he was wondering how best to announce himself, the door leading into the den swung open. Arslan stared across the hall at him. Marrick tried not to look too nervous or too exhausted as he pulled his back pack a little more firmly onto his shoulder. “Are Luther and Blaine here?” “No.” Marrick swallowed. “No, as in you’re not willing for me to see them or no, as in they aren’t actually in the building.” “No, as in they’ve been even brattier than usual since you left, and I sent them out to get the food for tonight’s meeting of the pride. It was that or throttle them both.” Marrick started breathing again, but he still didn’t dare take another step into the other man’s house without a clear invitation. “Go up to your room. Get some rest until they come back.” Marrick nodded. He felt the other man’s eyes on him all the way up the stairs. Even after he turned the corner, he could swear he felt the lion’s gaze following him every step of the way. As he collapsed on the huge bed to wait for the other men, he felt as if he’d only succeeded in exchanging one ceiling for another—one headache for an even worse one. He pulled himself off the bed and paced into the bathroom. There weren’t any painkillers in the cabinet over the sink. Making his way out of the en-suite, Marrick strode into the main bathroom off the hall. He hadn’t had reason to enter the room before. The first thing he noticed was that bath was obviously made by someone with the same tape measure as the guy who built the bed in their room. It was huge.

A more important consideration was that a thorough exploration of the cabinet above the sink proved there weren’t any pain killers in there either. Bloody typical. Marrick leaned against the wall in the bathroom. Very slowly, he lowered himself to the floor. Closing his eyes, he rested his head back against the tiles. All things considered, it was quite a comfortable spot. He was pretty sure he had as much chance of falling asleep there as he did anywhere else. The edges of his mind drifted toward sleep but, just like so many times over the last weeks, it failed to claim him properly. Slumber merely flirted with him, teasing but never following through. When the door next to him clicked open, he looked up half dreading and half hoping that Luther and Blaine were back already. Ryland stepped into the room. He was already reaching for the light to switch it off, when he saw Marrick sitting on the floor. “You okay?” Marrick smiled slightly. “Yeah. Just taking a minute.” Ryland nodded, as if there was nothing strange about finding him there. “You know something? Last year, I ran three honest-to-God marathons.” Ryland nodded again, very slowly, obviously not having the least idea what he was talking about. He sat down on the floor opposite him, leaned against the bath, and listened anyway. “I work out—a lot. And I do sports. Mountain biking. Hiking. Mountain climbing. I learned to surf pretty well last summer.” Ryland nodded again. “I’m a pretty fit guy, right?” Another nod. “But, bloody hell, I need some sleep too!” Ryland smiled his sympathy. Marrick dropped his head back against the wall behind him. He was pretty sure he should be embarrassed about getting caught hiding in the bathroom like a little girl, but he didn’t actually have the energy to care either way. “Probably doesn’t help that you couldn’t sleep well between being thrown to them, and them finding you in that club, either.” “Yeah.” Marrick frowned then, as he realized that wasn’t something he’d ever intended admitting to.

Ryland stared across the room at him, his eyes full of knowledge. “And now you can’t settle properly when you try to sleep on your own. You can’t get comfortable without them. You can’t get warm enough.” Marrick swallowed down his pride and nodded. Ryland pulled himself to his feet and held his hand out to him. “Come on.” Marrick let the other man help him up, but when he made to re-trace his steps toward the bedroom he shared with his lovers, Ryland caught his arm and led him to another door. “It won’t be the same, but it should help you rest a little, and they won’t disturb you in here when they get back either.” Marrick looked into the bedroom. “Your room.” “For the purposes of understanding why Luther and Blaine won’t disturb you as soon as they get home, it’s probably best to think of it as Arslan’s room.” Marrick managed a chuckle as he stepped inside. “The guy really freaks them out.” Ryland shrugged. “He’s the leader of their pride. They’re expected to follow his commands.” “Just like you?” Marrick asked. “Yes.” The word was so bare, so calm, Marrick couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of the other man’s apparent certainty about every single thing in his life. As he sat on the edge of the big double bed and rubbed his hand through his hair, Ryland lay down on the other side of the bed. Marrick followed his lead. His usual room wasn’t exactly cold, but it wasn’t as warm as this one either. “You don’t have to keep me company if there’s something else you—” Ryland shook his head. “Arslan sent me up to rest.” And as easily as that, the other man obediently closed his eyes, obviously not about to do anything other than exactly as his lover commanded. Marrick took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. He was pretty sure that Luther and Blaine would be looking for him soon, but he couldn’t quite resist the idea of resting until they found him. He closed his eyes. An hour later, Marrick frowned as a sound on the edge of his hearing nudged him out of his slumber. He curled a little more closely against the warm body spooned in front of him. It wasn’t warm enough to be a lion.

Ryland. Marrick was hazily aware that they had moved closer to each other as they slept, each searching for the warmth of another man while their feline lovers were absent. The guy might not have been Luther or Blaine, but he was right that sleeping next to someone else made it easier to rest properly for a little while. A click of a door handle tried to pull him back to the real world. He closed his eyes a little tighter, waiting as long as possible before recognizing that one of his lovers had tracked him down, that he couldn’t put off facing them any longer. A hand caught hold of the back of his shirt collar and yanked him unceremoniously off the bed. “What the—!” The exclamation was abruptly cut off as his back hit the edge of the sofa which filled the bedroom’s bay window, knocking the air out of him. Marrick looked up. Arslan stood in the spot where he’d expected to see Luther or Blaine. His breath caught in his throat, as he saw Ryland blink sleepily up at the shifter. “Sir?” Ryland frowned slightly as he brought himself to kneel on the edge of the bed. He didn’t reach out to his lover, but everything about his posture screamed that he was waiting for Arslan to reach out to him. For a full minute, the room seemed to balance on a knife edge, waiting to see what the lion would do. Arslan stepped forward, to stand in front of Ryland. The younger man didn’t raise a hand to touch his lover, but he dipped his head, rubbing his forehead against Arslan’s shoulder in the same kind of greeting Marrick had seen the shifters use with each other. Ryland was kneeling right on the edge of the mattress. Marrick knew it had to feel like he could fall any second, that it was only his faith that Arslan would catch him that let him lean forward into the empty air with that sort of assurance. Arslan lifted his hand and stroked his fingers through Ryland’s hair. “A lion would be expected to explain what he meant by bringing another lion into his mate’s bed.” “We were resting, sir,” Ryland said. “He has his own bed.” The words were very controlled. Ryland lifted his head. For a moment, he moved as if to look over Arslan’s shoulder at him. Arslan stopped him short. “He’s fine.” It was said with perfect confidence, without the older man even turning around to glance at him. Marrick had the distinct feeling that was because

the other man had aimed him at the sofa when he threw him out of his bed. It wasn’t just Arslan’s words that were carefully controlled. Ryland stared into his master’s eyes. “Once a man gets used to sharing his bed with lions, sleeping alone isn’t easy—especially if things aren’t settled between him and his mates.” Arslan stared down at him for a few seconds. “You’re good to look after the others in your pride, but there are better ways to do that, pet.” Ryland nodded his acceptance of the gentle little correction. There was just a tiny flash of something in his eyes, a trace of doubt over if he had displeased his master. Arslan dipped his head and pressed a kiss against his submissive’s lips. When he pulled back again, Ryland smiled up at him, obviously at ease with the whole world once more. Finally, Arslan turned to Marrick. “I should be getting back to my room,” he suggested. Arslan dismissed the suggestion with a shake of the head. “Downstairs—the den.” He had the same way about him that some of the truly magnificent older doms in the local clubs had. Completely in control of the whole world, just sure that everyone around him would do as he said—and probably right on both counts.” “Blaine and Luther—” “Are already here. They’ve been looking for you,” Arslan said. There didn’t seem to be any point in arguing about it. Marrick walked out of the room and down the stairs. Ryland stepped into the den just a moment after him. “Are you in trouble?” Marrick asked. Ryland shook his head, but he didn’t have time to utter a sound. Luther and Blaine burst into the room. They stopped barely an inch away from him. “You came back.” Marrick looked up at them. “You were right. I shouldn’t have left like that.” Blaine reached out to him, his hand came to rest on Marrick’s cheek. Without even thinking about it, he turned his face into the other man’s palm. Within seconds, both lions’ bodies surrounded him. For the first time since they’d walked out of his house, he felt at peace inside his own skin. Closing his eyes, he rested his temple against Blaine’s shoulder, arching into Luther’s hand as the other lion stroked his back.

Blaine touched his cheek again, guiding his mouth up to be kissed. Marrick parted his lips under the lion’s. He let the other man turn his head so Luther could brush his mouth against his, too. All he wanted right then was for the three of them to go up to their room, screw themselves senseless and sleep for a lifetime. “It’s not that simple.” Marrick looked over Blaine’s shoulder. Arslan stood in the doorway. “What?” Blaine asked. “It’s not that simple,” Arslan repeated. “Keeping another man happy for that long is easy. But if you don’t address what that drove you apart in the first place, he won’t remain here for long.” Marrick felt the other men tense around him. “There’s no question of you making him any sort of official offer until you prove you can take care of him.” A moment later, the door clicked closed behind Arslan and Ryland. Marrick continued to stare at the wooden panels for what felt like several lifetimes. As much as he was inclined to hate the leader of the pride in a great many ways, Marrick had to admit he was right. He took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. “I won’t belong to men who treat me as if I’m made of glass. I won’t let you treat me as if I’m not strong—as if I should be scared of the whole damn world. I’m not that person.” And suddenly the words were all out there, hanging in the air between them. “If that’s the kind of pet you want, you’ve got the wrong guy.” Blaine’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. “Tell us what kind of pet you want to be—what kind of master you want?” he asked. There was no room left for lies. No energy left for lies either. “Someone who’s willing to let me feel alive,” Marrick whispered. “Alive?” Luther echoed Marrick felt every muscle in his body tense as he pushed forward despite all his reservations, all his fears. “What my parents were talking about—when I was ill when I was little. It wasn’t just a normal kids-get-sick kind of thing.” Luther’s fingers stroked up and down his spine again.

“Can you imagine lying in a hospital bed for years, watching life go on around you, passing you by? Can you imagine how dead that makes you feel?” Blaine pulled him closer as if to protect him from the very memory of it. “I promised. I don’t know if I believe in God or not, but I know I promised someone— something that if I got the chance to get out of that hospital. If I got the chance to feel alive—I’d do it. Nothing would stop me.” Luther’s temple came to rest on the back of his head as the lion wrapped his arms around his waist. Eyes closed now, Marrick kept going when he wanted nothing more than to stop and just let the other men pat him on the head and tell him everything was okay. “I’m not an idiot. I don’t have a death wish. I don’t take stupid risks. But I won’t live my life following the rules of any man who makes me feel as if I’m suffocating under a million layers of cotton wool.” “You…want to be scared?” Blaine asked. “Scared. Hurt. I want to go the edge of what I can take and ride the crest of it. Feeling the fear and doing it anyway—that make me feel more alive than anything,” Marrick whispered. For several long seconds, the whole world was silent but for the sound of his racing pulse. “Can you accept that?” he forced himself to ask. “It’s not that simple. A master has to look after his pet,” Luther said. “Because Arslan says that’s the way it has to be?” Marrick asked. “Because it’s the way things have always been between lions and humans. Because…” Marrick looked up as Blaine hesitated. Suddenly the other man’s expression changed. “We should all rest now. We’ll talk when we wake up.” Marrick parted his lips to respond. “I know you won’t obey every order we give you,” Blaine told him, very seriously. “Just this once—obey this one?” Marrick wasn’t sure if it was the need in the other man’s voice, or if it was his own desire for what the other man was offering that made him nod his agreement. He was too exhausted to care about the future right then. If it wasn’t going to work, if he’d come back only to find he had to leave again the next day—at least he could get a good night’s sleep first. *****

Blaine stalked along the edge of the shrubbery, waiting for the perfect moment. Placing his front paws very carefully on the bare earth, he watched his prey pace into the middle of the back lawn. The smaller man looked in every direction before turning back toward the house. He he’d just lifted his hand and pushed it through his hair when Blaine pounced. Marrick’s back hit the ground hard. His eyes opened very wide as their pet saw Blaine in his feline form for the first time. “What the—!” His words deserted him. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound emerged. One instinct called to Blaine to pull away, to apologize for forgetting his manners with a human, forgetting that they were not designed for rough play—especially not when he was in shifted form. Another instinct demanded that he claim his mate—that he hold on to the smaller, weaker man and keep him both safe and exactly where he wanted him to be. The two impulses warred against each other, and as the seconds passed even Blaine didn’t know which one would win out—which one should win out. Then Marrick smiled. It was a cautious little expression, as if he wasn’t entirely sure the world was going to continue to be the way that seemed to please him so much, but it was enough. Marrick squirmed a little under the weight of Blaine’s feline form. The lion didn’t even try to hold back the snarl. He was doing exactly what their pet wanted. He was pleasing his mate. He didn’t want anything to change and he didn’t see why it should—not when it so obviously delighted Marrick just as much as it thrilled him. The younger man’s smile lost its hesitance. A look of pure bliss passed through Marrick’s eyes and, for the first time Blaine could remember, there was no other emotion clouding it. Thrilled with his success, he morphed seamlessly back into his human form. The paws that had pinned Marrick’s arms clumsily down on the ground shifted into hands that wrapped deftly around his wrists. As his pet murmured his pleasure, Blaine tightened the grip further, just as he would if it really was Luther laying beneath him, as if he needed to hold a lion as strong as Luther in place. Just for the briefest moment, something else came into Marrick’s expression. Something that looked suspiciously like pain. Snatching his hands away from the other man’s skin, Blaine sprung away from him, scrambling back on the grass.

Marrick’s reactions were quicker than any humans should have been. His hand caught Blaine’s fingers just before they slipped out of his range, keeping him close. “I hurt you.” “No!” “Scared you then,” Blaine snapped, anger giving him no patience with semantics. “No.” “Lions can sense fear. You’re afraid. You’ve been afraid ever since you came back to us.” And it had been killing part of Blaine every time he sensed it. Marrick stared back at him for a moment, holding his gaze when Blaine could tell he wanted to look away. He swallowed rapidly, several times before he nodded. “Yes.” “Scared of us?” Luther asked, softly as he approached from his vantage point on the other side of the garden. “The way we can—” “No!” The way he said it made it difficult to argue with him. “How then?” Luther asked. Marrick looked down. “If you’d spent your whole life determined not to let anyone stop you doing everything life could offer you, then realized you’d give up on all that, for two guys you barely know, you wouldn’t be scared of them—you’d be terrified.” Luther took a step forward, then another, until he lowered himself down to crouch at the other man’s feet, next to where Marrick sat. “You want to protect me from something, protect me from that, because that scares the hell out of me far more than a bit of rough play ever will.” “If we hurt you—” “You didn’t hurt me!” Marrick snapped. He paused for a moment. Letting go of Blaine’s fingers, he held his hands out, displaying his body. “You didn’t hurt me. I’m fine. See?” Blaine’s eyes ran over his pet’s skin. He looked perfectly fine, but that wasn’t the whole truth. “The way I held you hurt you. I saw it in your eyes.” Marrick swallowed. “If you lie to us about what really hurts you, we can’t keep you safe from…from feeling that way.”

The younger man looked up and met his eyes. Blaine forced himself to look away from him for a moment, to look to Luther and confirm that he felt the same way. When he looked back, Marrick’s gaze was still there waiting to trap him once more. “If you can tell us the truth about what will hurt you then…” Blaine took a deep breath and nodded his willingness to try to play the games their lover liked so much. Marrick merely continued to stare at him, as if not sure what to believe. “You’ll have to tell us what scares you—in the wrong ways—too,” Blaine added. Marrick nodded. “The whole truth,” Luther prompted. Their pet turned to look at him, he nodded his acceptance of that too. For a few seconds, their pet was silent. “I liked it when you pounced on me,” he whispered. It was the truth, Blaine could see it burning in his eyes. But perhaps it wasn’t the whole truth. He didn’t just like it—he loved it. Blaine smiled. Moving forward, he took Marrick’s wrists in a tight grip and pushed him back against the grass once more. “Tighter?” Marrick asked. Blaine cautiously tightened his grip around the other man’s skin. Marrick held his gaze until a little purr of pleasure escaped from his throat. He tightened his grip again. That same pained look flashed through his eyes. “A bit too tight,” Marrick whispered. Arslan was right. He’d hurt him. Blaine sprang away from the prone man, pulling back from him until not one scrap of his skin touched the other man’s body. He’d hurt him and… Marrick sat up just far enough to support himself on his elbows. He looked from Blaine, to where Luther was still crouching next to them, watching over them. “I don’t break promises lightly.” And he’d promised to tell them how much was too much. Blaine swallowed rapidly as stared down at the smaller man. It took all the courage he was aware of having and more, but somehow, he moved back over the smaller man. He put his hand back around the other man’s wrist, very gently. He cautiously tightened his hold on him, until Marrick nodded his head. “That’s just right?” Marrick nodded again, not seeming to be able to find any words.

A wrist appeared at the edge of Blaine’s field of vision. He glanced up and met Luther’s gaze. The other lion’s expression told him all he needed to know. Without moving an inch away from Marrick, he took hold of his lover’s wrist, making sure his grip on Luther’s wrist was exactly the same as his grip on their pet. Luther studied the hold very carefully before taking back his wrist. He immediately reached for Marrick’s other wrist. One nod later, they both knew what was acceptable and what wasn’t. “What else can you handle?” Luther purred, leaning low to let the words caress the other man’s ear as he knelt next to them. Marrick murmured his pleasure, lifting his body off the grass to press against Blaine’s bare skin. “Can a human survive outdoors without these?” Luther tugged at the shoulder Marrick’s shirt. Marrick nodded. “Not in winter though,” he added, his voice rough. “That’s good,” Blaine told him, moving to lie on the grass next to him as he ran his fingers down the buttons on the front of their pet’s shirt. “You promised us the truth, didn’t you?” Marrick nodded, apparently more than a little fascinated by the sight of Blaine playing with the buttons. “If we do something that might hurt you—you’ll say your word.” Marrick nodded. Blaine shook his head. “Promise.” That was important. He’d seen the truth in his eyes when Marrick said he wouldn’t break a promise lightly. “Promise,” Marrick rasped out, trying to rub his crotch against Luther’s hand as he played with the fly just the way Blaine teased his shirt. “We want you naked.” Marrick would have nodded, Blaine stopped him short. “It wasn’t a question.” His pet had given them the information they needed. It was up to his masters to make the decisions now. Pleasure poured off the other man as the idea sunk in. Blaine chuckled. “I thought you didn’t like your masters telling you what you were going to do.” Marrick grinned up at them both. “It depends what you’re telling me to do. If we’re getting laid, you can be as bossy as you like. I’m all for those kind of orders.”

Blaine ran his eyes down the other man’s body. Every line of him seemed to be subtly different, just a little bit more perfect. Within minutes his clothes had fallen away, not all of the garments remaining as intact as they probably should have, but Marrick made no complaint—his squirming to help them remove them as quickly as possible only added to the tears that grew along the seams. Soon he lay underneath them, as naked as they were themselves. Blaine stared down at their pet, at their hands holding him in place, their grip tight enough around his limbs to turn the skin white along the edge of their hold on him. “We’ll tread carefully,” Blaine said. “No rushing. That’s how accidents happen, how pets get hurt.” Marrick nodded. “You won’t be allowed to have whatever you want until you can prove want you want does you no harm. In some ways you are like Ryland,” he added. “He let himself get into situations where he could have been hurt. That is not allowed.” Marrick nodded again, seemingly willing to agree with anything and everything his masters said to him right then. Dipping his head, Blaine pressed a kiss against their pet’s bare skin. Rubbing his face against Marrick’s body he inhaled deeply, savoring the pleasure in his scent along with the simple fact that he was there with them. Luther was quick to follow his lead. Within moments, their tongues were exploring Marrick’s body as their hands pinned him down against the grass. They soon chanced upon that ticklish little spot that made the younger man writhe and howl for them. Within minutes he’d squirmed his way out of their tight hold on him. Rather than try to get away, he flung himself with complete abandon toward them both. They rolled back and forth on the grass, pouncing on each other and toppling each other. It was impossible not to be a little bit more careful with Marrick than he was with Luther, to make sure he didn’t land too harshly, that he wasn’t knocked and battered the way another lion might have been if he’d been caught between them. But as their laughter mingled, it was impossible to believe that Marrick cared about such insignificant details. He was there with his masters, and as they collapsed back on the sun warmed grass, all of them panting for breath, it was impossible to believe all wasn’t perfect in his pet’s world.

Picking his head up off the grass, Blaine looked across to Marrick, then back to Luther. The moment was perfect. That only made it harder to face the bitter truth—there was one thing still left to be done before they could rest truly comfortably together. If they demanded the truth of their pet, they couldn’t refuse him the same in return. Blaine closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he couldn’t look at either of his lovers. He stared up at the sky and told the last truth that was left to be told between them. “If Arslan hadn’t stepped in, he’d be dead.”

Chapter Eight

Luther felt Marrick tense between them. “What?” Luther swallowed down his reservations. It wouldn’t be fair to let Marrick think anything had been entirely down to Blaine. “If Arslan hadn’t stepped in, he’d be dead,” he echoed. “Who?” their pet asked. “The first man who was thrown to us.” For a long time, Marrick was silent. “What happened?” Luther made the mistake of closing his eyes. All at once, he was back there. The fear and the confusion rushed through him as he remembered what they had come so close to doing. “We were too used to being with each other,” he managed to say. “We were too rough with him.” Blaine’s voice was just as uneven as his. “But, being with a human for the first time, we didn’t—it wasn’t until Arslan separated us we realized he was hurt, scared, bleeding.” “Lions have to be careful with human mates. They have to be kept safe. A lion can never forget that.” Luther opened his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to look toward Marrick. He felt the other man move between them and knew he was leaving again. He closed his eyes again, clenching his hands into fists next to his sides as he resisted the urge to reach out to him and pull him back. Lips brushed very gently against his own, shocking a gasp out of him. He blinked open his eyes as the touch faded away. Marrick stared down at him, a strange expression on his face. When he turned away from him, it was only to offer Blaine a similar kiss. “The idea’s to feel alive—not to get myself killed.” Luther saw Blaine’s expression change as their eyes met over Marrick’s shoulder. When Blaine would have risen, Marrick’s hand wrapped round his arm and stopped him short. “You’re scared you might really hurt me the way you hurt him. I get that. But I’m not asking you to do that.”

Blaine looked at the grip on his arm, but Marrick didn’t take the hint and let go of him. “It’s the difference between going bungee jumping and actually throwing yourself off a bridge. I don’t want to do anything that’s actually going to get me killed. I won’t ask you to do anything that would really hurt me—I won’t ask you to sit back and let me do anything that would hurt me either. Promise.” He looked to Luther as he said the last word. Luther smiled slightly as he saw the acceptance, and maybe even the beginning of understanding in the younger man’s eyes. “You realize that doesn’t mean you can start telling me I can’t even ride a bike around the city, right?” Marrick said, his expression turning ever so slightly wary. Blaine, as politely as anyone ever could, took his wrist out of Marrick’s grip and reversed the hold they had on each other, so he was holding the younger man’s arm instead. That done, he turned his attention back to the conversation. “It hurt you, in a way you didn’t enjoy.” “In a way that left me sore for a few days. It didn’t do me any real harm.” Blaine looked to Luther for his opinion on the matter. “You’ll be careful?” he asked. Marrick nodded. “And you’ll let me feel alive?” Luther and Blaine exchanged another look. When they heard the need for it in the other man’s voice, it was hard to argue with him. “Promise,” Luther whispered. “Although I won’t promise to be enthusiastic about it,” Blaine added. Marrick laughed then. Dipping his head he let it rest on Blaine’s shoulder. The other lion managed to keep his posture stiff and his displeasure at the idea obvious for all of a few seconds before he nuzzled against the top of their pet’s head. Luther smiled across at them both. “I’ve booked to go sky diving this summer.” The way he said it made it sound as if the piece of information was important. Luther looked to Blaine, but the other lion seemed to be as blank as he was. “You go up in a plane, then you jump out of the plane when it’s still flying. A parachute keeps you safe,” Marrick explained. Luther parted his lips, he closed his mouth just in time to bite back the word No! “It’s one of the things that makes you feel alive?” he asked, as calmly as he could. “I’ve never tried it before, but yeah—that’s the idea.”

“You couldn’t…feel alive at ground level?” Luther checked. Marrick shook his head. Luther had the feeling they were discussing far more on their opinion of him jumping out of a plane. “Any lion who wanted to be your master would have to accept that,” he realized. Their pet offered a nod, but no words to go with it. “We’ll go with you,” Blaine decided after a while. “I’ll go in the plane with you. Blaine will wait on the ground for you to land.” Luther specified. He didn’t miss Blaine’s relief at the idea things would work well that way, without the lion who was so scared of heights having to jump into clear air after his mate. “You don’t have to…I’m not asking you to join in. Just…” Luther leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’ll do the high ones, Blaine will do the wet ones. We’ll see you’re kept…just safe enough.” Marrick smiled slightly. “Our mate will be kept just safe enough?” Blaine asked, cautiously. Marrick sat up as if he couldn’t think clearly enough about such an important question while lying on his back. For a long time, their pet said nothing. Luther moved to sit to one side of him to wrap his arm around his shoulders in a subtle little effort to keep him warm. Blaine did the same on the other side of him. Looking up, Luther saw that Arslan and Ryland were both standing on the little terrace that led into the house, watching them. It was always impossible for him to read exactly what their leader was thinking. The first pet to join their pride was a far easier call. Ryland, for all his humanity was an open book after all these months. He looked happy. A glance back to Marrick, showed their pet was far more serious than Arslan’s. “We should probably go inside soon. It’s getting colder,” Marrick whispered. Luther leaned down and brought their lips together. For the most part it was a very gentle little kiss, but he couldn’t quite resist the temptation to nip a little at the other man’s bottom lip, just for the pleasure of hearing him moan. Blaine helped him get to his feet. Luther slid his arm around him as they walked him back into the house. Marrick accepted it all without a word. “You’re just in time. The sacrifice will be here soon.”

Marrick glanced across at Arslan. The older lion met his gaze and held it. He had a horrible feeling the leader of the pride could see right into his soul right then. He looked away, not sure he was ready to face the thoughts inside his own head, let alone accept someone else spying on them. The other lions in the pride were already assembled in the den. “The car will be here any minute.” The dismissal in Arslan’s voice was clear as he addressed Luther and Blaine. They didn’t seem thrilled about leaving him behind, but they went out to the gravel drive to wait for it. Marrick looked up and met Arslan’s gaze. “They told me what happened.” The lion said nothing. “That’s what you meant when you said to ask them why you receive sacrifices,” Marrick added. “Before lions learned to be careful with their human lovers—before prides made a point of teaching them to be careful, a great many men were hurt. It did little to help humans accept the lions in their midst,” Arslan said, looking out of the window to where Luther and Blaine stood on the drive. “The tradition has kept humans safe and lions accepted within the human world for hundreds of years.” Marrick followed his gaze. It wasn’t cold for a lion, but they were cuddling up to each other anyway. “Lions have very little to do with humans while they’re with their parents’ pride. It’s not uncommon for things not to go to plan the first time they receive a sacrifice,” Arslan said. Marrick continued to stare through the window at them. “If they couldn’t be trusted not to harm you, they wouldn’t have been left alone with you.” He turned to look up at Arslan then. “I’m not afraid of them.” Arslan didn’t take his eyes off Luther and Blaine. “They may be older than you, but it’s best that you remember the only real knowledge they have of humans is the sacrifices and Ryland.” “I guessed that,” Marrick said, smiling out through the window at them, remembering how lost they’d looked as they faced his parents across the living room.

“Then guess that any man who intends to make a life with either or both of them can’t run away at the first misunderstanding. It may well be a habit humans indulge in, but it has no place in a pride,” Arslan told him, his tone of voice broking no argument on the matter. “A good pet always does as his masters say?” Marrick asked, his own tone cooling. “A good man always thinks of his mates first. If you want to play rough, that’s your business. If there are no serious injuries, the pride won’t interfere. But if you become their mate, you’ll be expected to take your rightful place in the pride—and live up to the standards the pride expects from you.” It wasn’t him he was worried about. Marrick hesitated as he realized that. He was the leader of the pride and he didn’t want Luther or Blaine’s feelings to be hurt. A car drove up the drive before Marrick could think of a single thing to say. Luther and Blaine had obviously exhausted their patience while they cooled their heels in the driveway. They didn’t wait for the driver to help him out of the car. Within seconds a terrified looking man was standing on the hearthrug and two pairs of strong feline hands were wrapped around Marrick’s body. Looking up, he met Arslan’s eyes and nodded his understanding. The time he spent watching the other lions taking their pleasure from the nameless man on the rug passed in a blur for Marrick. He lay curled against his lovers. Their hands gently stroked his skin, but they didn’t seem to need anything more from him than to know he was there right then. The food came in. Marrick was still lost in his thoughts. The conversations around the fireplace had already started when he finally spoke. “You need his blessing, don’t you?” “Arslan?” Blaine asked. “For what?” Marrick took a deep breath. “You said there was a formal thing.” “For us to be mates?” Luther asked. “Yes. We’d need his blessing.” “Then we should ask for it.” Luther immediately smiled, easy in his acceptance of the decision. Blaine seemed more serious, more cautious. “That’s what you want?” “Yes.” Marrick was surprised by the certainty in his own voice. He wanted it so badly he could taste it. And if they were truly willing to keep on treating him as if he was something more

than a fragile little doll, he knew there was no way he could stop himself grabbing that opportunity as quickly as possible. “I want this.” “Luther, Blaine….Marrick. Do any of you have anything to say?” Arslan asked, right on cue. ”We’re ready to make the offering,” Blaine announced. “You’ll be joining the pride as both their pets?” To any other ear, Marrick was sure it sounded like Arslan was asking if he was sure he wanted two masters. He knew differently. It was all about joining the pride as far as the older lion was concerned—about if he was willing to accept that meant treating his mates well. Marrick nodded. Arslan continued to stare at him for what felt like a lifetime. Finally, he turned his attention back to the lions that flanked him. “You’ll both be responsible for him—both answerable for anything that might happen to him?” Out of the corner of his eyes, Marrick saw each man nod in turn. Arslan finally seemed to reach his decision. “Make your offer.” Suddenly sure that he should have been briefed on this bit of the proceedings beforehand, Marrick looked to where Ryland knelt at Arslan’s feet, judging him to be the man most likely to give him an answer that made sense. Just say yes or no. The words were mouthed rather than spoken, but they still eased Marrick’s nerves a little. Luther put his hand on his cheek, turning him toward him. “If you come to us willingly and of your own free will, with no thought for your own gain and only wishing to add to the pride, then you are welcome.” At least they were starting with an easy question. Marrick opened his lips, but Luther smilingly covered his mouth with his fingertips. He looked toward Blaine. Marrick followed his gaze. “If you wish to belong to the pride, to take your rightful place in the pride, you are welcome,” the other lion told him. Marrick didn’t try to speak again, he just held the other lion’s eyes, and let the words seep into his mind, and even more than the words, the emotions that the shifters seemed to put into them came loud and clear. They meant them. “If you come to us without lies or secrets, you are welcome,” Luther said.

Marrick swallowed quickly, trying to look at both men at the same time, but only managing to flick his attention back and forth between them. “If you are who we believe you to be, say that you wish to take your rightful place in the pride, and you will be welcomed,” Blaine said. For a second, Marrick waited for the other man to speak up, to add something else. It took him a moment to realize that both the lions were now waiting on his answer. Ryland’s advice came back to him. He didn’t need to say anything complicated. Yes or no was all that was required of him. He could do that. No answer had ever been easier to give. “Yes.” Lions were stronger than humans. If Marrick had learned one thing about them over the last weeks, he had learned that. The knowledge still didn’t stop him being as shocked as hell when Blaine picked him up and tossed him up in the air, apparently just for the sheer pleasure of catching him as he fell back into his arms. “Ceilings. Light fittings,” Arslan reminded them in a long suffering tone of voice, just as Luther took him directly from Blaine’s arms without ever letting his feet touch the hearthrug. He might have been listening when the leader of their pride spoke. It might have merely been luck that meant he decided to spin Marrick around rather than throw him up toward the ceiling once more. He brought their lips together as they stilled. “Promise,” he demanded into the kiss. “Promise.” When Blaine guided him around for another kiss, he whispered the same word against his lips. It might not have been as formal or as prettily phrased as their offer to him, but he couldn’t deny that he meant it just as much. “I just got…married, didn’t I?” Ryland nodded as he smiled across at them from his place at Arslan’s side. “Pretty much.” Marrick took a deep breath and let it out again. “Okay.” Another deep breath failed to help him wrap his mind around the fact, but he couldn’t ignore the fact he felt more at peace than he’d ever believed possible. It was as if something inside him had registered that he wasn’t going to wander away from his lovers again, and that made everything okay with the world. “What happens now?” he asked, eventually. “Now you go home,” Arslan said. Marrick hesitated.

“Pets live with their masters, in their master’s homes.” Marrick nodded, he couldn’t help but notice Arslan didn’t sound heartbroken about he and Ryland having the house to themselves again. “I guess I should, get my things,” he said, his head spinning in a dozen different directions, possibly not least because Luther still hadn’t got around to putting him down. When he made his way back down the stairs, the sacrifice and all the other lions who’d visited the house that day were already gone. There weren’t many extended goodbyes. Everything happened seamlessly. By the time they’d driven across town, complete with his bike bundled into the boot, Marrick still didn’t really know which way was up. Blaine’s car stopped outside a block of flats. Marrick swallowed. “You have no regrets?” Luther asked. Marrick shook his head. “I don’t do regrets.” “Or fear,” Blaine reminded him. “The idea is to feel the fear and do it anyway. That’s what makes you feel alive.” He opened the car door and stepped out onto the pavement. Looking up at the building, he could definitely feel the fear. By the time they’d carried his things up to the lions flat, butterflies were bungee jumping in his stomach. “We’ll make sure you don’t have a chance to feel anything other than completely alive,” Blaine said, sliding his arms around him. He was already hard, the way he pressed himself against Marrick’s back made it very difficult to ignore that fact. Marrick was pretty sure that one of them should be sensible and practical. Seeing the look in Luther’s eyes, he was equally sure he was the only candidate for the job. “Shouldn’t we unpack and…” Luther put his hand over his lips, not just a fingertip, his whole hand covered Marrick’s mouth, completely silencing him. “We want to mark you properly.” Luther’s hand fell away from his mouth to let him respond. “Properly?” Marrick asked, looking from one lion to the other and back again. “Not just little scratches,” Luther clarified. “Real ones.” “Where?” Marrick asked, as if that would make any difference to his answer. Blaine’s fingertips ran down his back. “It will hurt.”

Marrick nodded his understanding. “Maybe hurt in the way you like things to hurt,” Blaine said, it sounded like he still had reservations, but when Marrick met his eyes, his desire was unmistakable. “Yes.” It was the only thing Marrick needed to say. Within minutes, he was naked in the bedroom, face down on the bed with two equally naked lions kneeling on the mattress studying his back as if it were a blank canvass created especially for them. Mark him for real. Not just scratches that would heal in a few days, marks that might last for weeks, maybe even longer. Perhaps even the kind of scratches that would turn into scars that would always linger under his skin. For the first time in his life, Marrick realized that the idea of something that was supposed to last forever didn’t scare him—at least not in a bad way. Fingers trailed over his back first, marking out the lines they wanted to create. Marrick took a deep breath and did his best to relax. He wasn’t sure how deep the scratches would be, how much that kind of mark would hurt, if it would be fast like a whip, or a long drawn out movement that he’d have to grit his teeth through. When they came, the claws that traced along his skin were far lighter than he expected, more like place holders for the real thing than the actual marks they were going to put on him. A glance over his shoulder and he saw the war playing out in the lions eyes. They wanted it just as much as him, but he could see that he wasn’t the only one who was afraid. “It doesn’t have to be tonight,” Marrick said, not sure how to tell them how much he loved them for even thinking about it, for wanting to do it for him. “As promises are kept, we’ll make them again, a little deeper. And again, when those marks have healed, they’ll be made again,” Luther suggested. Marrick nodded against the pillow. “I like that—the idea we’ll earn the marks together.” Blaine purred gently against his back as he rubbed his temple against his shoulder blade. When his claws returned to his skin, the scratches they layered over the initial markers were deeper, enough to truly break the skin. Enough to draw blood. Marrick gasped. His whole body tensed as the claws slowly made their way down his back. “Too much?” Blaine asked, his voice rough with emotion. Marrick shook his head against the pillow. “Amazing.”

A second later, another curve was being drawn down the other side of his back, just as deep, just as perfect. Marrick doubted they would leave the kind of permanent marks he’d love, but they were a bloody good start. As the lions dipped their head and lapped at the wounds, Marrick lay still and silent, letting their lips and tongues play over him. Each rough lick went to his cock, adding to the frustration the scratches had already created inside him. ”You know,” Marrick said over his shoulder, when he knew one more lick would either send him crazy or make it impossible for him to resist the temptation to hump the bed. “There’s more than one way for you both to prove I belong to you.” “I want to tie you up,” Luther whispered into his ear. Marrick had been thinking more about screwing than bondage, but he nodded his permission anyway. Bounding off the bed, Luther tipped out a drawer in the dresser opposite them and snatched up a blindfold and a pair of cuffs, rather like the ones he’d been wearing when he was delivered to the den for the first time. “Roll play?” Marrick asked. Luther tilted his head onto the side, as if he didn’t understand what the word meant. “I pretend I’m being thrown to the lions for the first time, you get to catch me for the first time all over again—maybe do what you would have done if you weren’t so worried about being careful—if you knew you’d caught someone who was capable of playing the game properly.” For a few seconds, two sets of feline eyes stared at him. Then the two lions turned toward each other. Without any warning, Marrick found himself picked up and deposited just inside the front door of their flat, hands quickly bound behind his back, blindfold over his eyes. They disappeared then. Marrick took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. He hadn’t been nervous that first night he was thrown to the lions, he had no idea why the hell he should be wary right now, but he was. The little sods made him wait, getting more and more nervous by the second. Knowing they’d be able to tell that from his scent didn’t help. The blow, when it finally came, knocked him forward onto the floor. He couldn’t even put his arms out to break his fall. A naked man landed heavily on top of him, pinning him to the floorboards, making it impossible to take a breath to replace the air that had been knocked out of his lungs.

Another set of hands found their way onto his skin. There was little gentleness in the touch, but there was control in it. Even if the lions didn’t want him to see it, it was there, but right then knowing it didn’t dim the pleasure the strong grip sent through him as the lions maneuvered him into whatever position they’d decided they wanted him in right then. Head down, arse up. Rough hands pulled Marrick’s knees further apart on the hard floor boards. His cheek rubbed against the floor as his hands opened and closed behind his back, reaching for something, anything that might be within his grasp. Slicked fingers stroked against his arse, preparing him quickly. Gasping, he pushed back against the digits, silently begging them to work even faster inside him. The noise of a condom wrapper being torn filled the air. “You don’t have to.” The two lions stilled. “You’re scared of getting ill again. These make you feel safe—the good kind of safe,” Luther said behind him. “I checked what you said. I can’t catch anything off you.” He could feel the need in the other two men, how much they wanted to believe him. The same desire to be rid of every barrier that might exist between them swirled inside him too. “It’s fine,” he whispered. “Promise.” Blaine let out a satisfied little purr. Within a minute the lion’s fingers had been replaced with a slicked cock. It slid into Marrick, slow and steady. He held his breath as the lion’s shaft stretched him open further, until it was buried inside him to the hilt. “You don’t have permission to come,” Luther whispered in his ear. Marrick whimpered, but he obeyed. Blaine obviously wasn’t inclined to hold back right then. He thrust into him, hard and frantic, until he roared out his pleasure. Marrick gasped and pushed back against him. Within seconds, Blaine had pulled away, leaving him empty and needy. He opened his mouth, not even sure what he was going to ask for. Then he felt Luther behind him. The other lion seemed to think that Blaine had the right idea. The need they had to mark him seemed to override everything else. The lion’s grip on his hips was tight. Marrick had no doubt he’d have two sets of fingerprint bruises on his skin the next day. He murmured his pleasure against the floor boards. Every thrust rocked his whole body. His own shaft thrust against the empty air, unable to achieve even the tiniest bit of friction

against anything. Still, he was on the edge of coming, permission or no permission, when Luther jerked and echoed Blaine’s roar. The sound of the lion’s pleasure filled the room, filled Marrick’s mind. He whimpered as the other man pulled away from him soon after, but neither of the lions had gone far. He could feel both his masters still close by, hear their panting breaths, sense their eyes raking over his skin. “How do you feel?” Luther whispered in his ear as he nuzzled sleepily against his neck some minutes later. Frustrated. Sore. Bound. Perfect. “Alive,” Marrick whispered softly. He could practically hear Blaine’s grin as he collapsed down on the floor next to him. “Good pet.”

About the Author

26 years old, from Wales, UK, Kim writes about kink, love and happy endings. If a story doesn’t have those three things, it's not going to be written—at least not by this writer! Apart from that, Kim likes to write a little bit of everything. So far that list includes Male/Male, Male/Female, a few different varies of ménage, shifters, vampires, fairytales, time-travel and ghosts. It’s anyone’s guess what will come next… A firm believer that there is no “One True Way” for people to kink, Kim likes to let the characters in each book pick their own ways to dominate and submit to each other. As long as they stay safe, sane and consensual—Kim’s happy to let them live their lifestyle 24/7, or just open the toy box on weekends—whatever’s right for them. Published since 2008, Kim also writes BDSM erotic romances for Total-e-bound. You can catch up with Kim at www.kimdare.com or by e-mailing [email protected]

Kim loves to talk to her readers and can be found at www.kimdare.com.

Also Available from

Resplendence Publishing Ryland’s Sacrifice by Kim Dare Principles don’t pay tuition fees. When Ryland’s math scholarship disappears overnight, he has two choices. He can borrow money from fellow student Jason Burrows, who has very interesting ways of collecting debts. Or, he can volunteer to be thrown to the werelions. One night spent playing the part of a willing human sacrifice will give him enough money to finish his PhD. It seems like a good deal-right up until the moment he finds himself naked, blindfolded, bound and surrounded by lions.

Handcuffs and Leather by Kim Dare Rawlings Men Series Book One All Constable Hadley wants to do is put the last few weeks behind him. As if being taken hostage wasn’t bad enough, he’s had to deal with all the stupid publicity that’s surrounded him ever since. And the fact that he hasn’t slept since that night isn’t helping him feel any better about the world, either. The last thing Hadley needs is a shrink wandering around inside his head trying to dig up all his dirty little secrets. When he finds out he’s being sent to Dr. Rawlings—the man he’s had a crush on for months—Hadley knows his life has finally hit rock bottom. The only thing that could make things worse for Hadley would be Dr. Rawlings finding out how Hadley feels about him. But fate wouldn’t be that cruel to him—would it?

In For a Penny by Carol Lynne What’s the old saying…you can never go home again? Raven Black resigned himself to never returning after being ordered from the only real home he’d ever known. Now, seven years later, Raven is back to face the man who sent him away. Zane Conner is not only Raven’s foster brother but the only man Raven ever loved. Despite his mixed feelings about the situation, Raven can’t deny Zane when the older man asks for his help in saving the Lazy C Bar Ranch. A boy found dead on the ranch clinches Raven’s decision. Why did the young boy look so much like he had at that age—the same age he’d been when his own father had beaten him and left him for dead?

Going Deep by G.A. Hauser Dylan Conway thought he had a chance at the big leagues when a pro football scout invited him to try out for the team. After a successful college career, Dylan figured it was a sure thing. It wasn’t. With his dream of playing pro ball shattered, Dylan takes a job in LA delivering pizza until he can figure out a new direction for his life. What he doesn’t expect is to be propositioned at every delivery, and to his amazement, he’s asked to work for a photographer of male nudes. He accepts, and begins his journey into a deeper, darker industry. Sean Dean, AKA ‘Rippin Long’, is tired of working as a gay porn star. For seven long years he was the top earner for Tartarus Studios, but now he’s sick and tired of the demands. He yearns for a real life and respectable work. But even the jaded Rippin Long is stunned to see the latest addition to the Tartarus studios stable of stars: The delectable Dylan Conway. To make matters worse, Dylan makes no effort to hide his instant attraction to Tartarus’ prized stud, and he’s after more than sex. Dylan wants a ‘relationship’, something Sean has avoided after continuously being idolized as the porn star, and not the human being behind the façade. One man jaded and at the end of his porn career, the other fresh and just beginning a new life in the industry—the possibility for any kind of future between the two seems daunting. Yet, the two men collide on set, burning up the screen like no other men before them. Could there be a chance for a real bond between them? With faith, hope, and a little help from karma, could true love bloom from what was once two broken lives?

Saving Noah by Carol Lynne and Cash Cole Dexter Krispin arrived in the small Kansas town of Schicksal with one thing on his mind: finishing his doctorial thesis. He hoped getting away from his hectic life in Pittsburgh would allow him to concentrate on the long overdue paper and to forget about his last lover. Life-long Schicksal resident, Noah Stoffel, has managed to keep his sexuality a secret. Yet, after one look at the dark-haired newcomer, he knows his life in the sleepy town will never be the same. But more than Noah’s desire for privacy stands between him and Dexter. For years, the residents of Schicksal have been hiding a horrific secret, one that takes Dexter mere days to uncover and expose...a secret that could destroy—or heal—them all.

Tropical Hedonism by Dakota Rebel After a boating accident, Sean Harris wakes up staring into the eyes of a handsome doctor. Even when he discovers that he is on an island within the Bermuda Triangle, and there is no way for him to get back to his old life, he can’t be too disappointed if it means being stuck with the doctor. Dr. Wesley Carpenter cannot believe that the younger Sean Harris would want anything to do with him. After half-heartedly turning down the advances of his patient, he realizes that resistance is futile. The men find themselves falling for each other quickly, but ghosts from their pasts and outside influences try to get in the way of their happiness. Sean and Wesley may be on the island forever, but neither is sure if that guarantees they’ll be able to continue their Tropical Hedonism.

Carol Lynne’s Refuge Shifters Series is at

Resplendence Publishing

Extinction Professor of Environmental Science/Wildlife studies at UNLV, Jack McBain has spent his adult life trying to track a legend overheard during his youth. Born and raised in the Canadian Province of Newfoundland, Jack remembers his grandparents telling stories of a race of people eradicated by European settlers in 1829. According to the legend, the Beothuk people didn’t die out as first thought, but were transformed into wolf shifters. When Newfoundland wolves began to appear in great numbers, the European settlers began killing them under the guise of population control. In 1910, the last of the Newfoundland wolves was shot, making them one of the few extinct species of wolves in the world. Following spotty leads, Jack begins to track what he believes are Beothuk/Newfoundland shifter wolves. His search leads him to the Lake Mead National Recreational Area outside of Las Vegas. There, on Spirit Mountain, he finally comes face to face with not only the shifter he’s been looking for, but the man of his dreams he didn’t know he needed.

Retribution Three lonely souls find each other in the midst of an all out war between the shifters and the Hunters. Mother Earth gave Ryker Allen rebirth over a century ago, his main purpose to protect Mother’s shifter children. Ryker has never begrudged his duties, but the loneliness is something he’ll never get used to. Daniel was the King of the Coyotes until a mistake led to the decimation of his species. Alone and half-dead, he was taken in by a pack of wolf shifters as a pet for the Alpha’s mate. When he’s given a chance to live as an Alpha once again, he’s reluctant to accept, afraid he’s no longer worthy to lead. Hakan is the son of Father Sky. He was awarded rebirth over a thousand years ago to protect the Native American Bird Shifters. When animosity towards Native Americans escalated, Hakan’s charges took to the sky permanently, leaving him without a purpose. He’s lived his long life alone, waiting for the day he can once again serve his Father. Three men, three very different backgrounds, one thing in common. Loneliness. Can these three souls come together to form a family?

Evolution Jarek, a young cougar shifter, arrives at Refuge full of hope. He is finally in a place where he can have a lover and his first-ever home. Meeting Mica feels like icing on the cake, but his dreams are quickly shattered by a night of pain and violence at the hands of his Alpha. Mica, a stone man, is trying to get his emotions under control. He likes Jarek, but isn’t sure what to do with the overwhelming lust he feels whenever Jarek is near. After the two of them are caught in a compromising position, Jarek goes missing, and Mica will do anything in his power to track him down. Suni, the true-blue Alpha of the cougars, doesn’t want anything to do with the rest of his kind. He is perfectly content to live out his life in seclusion. When he stumbles across a young cougar shifter near death, he realizes he’s found his mate. When Jarek regains consciousness and tells Suni about Mica, the true Alpha is left wondering where he’ll fit in. Three men, one who wants to feel, one who doesn’t know how to feel, and one who refuses to feel, come together on the side of a mountain. The resulting clash of personalities and sexually charged energy will change their lives forever.

Resolution After an attempt on their lives by an unknown group, the bird shifters are forced to seek shelter at Refuge. Having spent years in their bird-skin, the adjustment for some isn’t easy. Bird shifters Takoda and Enapay have been best friends for years. Enapay knows Takoda is his chosen mate, but Takoda refuses to consider a life living in his man-skin. When Enapay starts to work closely with Dr. Gray Whitmore, he can’t understand his overwhelming attraction to the human. With Takoda’s continued rebuffs, Enapay finally gives into his desire for Gray. It is soon apparent, Gray was meant to be Enapay’s mate. But when Takoda’s health takes a turn for the worse, old feelings resurface. Enapay is left wondering why Father Sky gifted him with two mates, especially when one of them still refuses to live as a man.

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