Savage Satisfaction (7 page)

“What are you doing?” the falcon demanded. “Don’t listen to
him.”

“I have to,” the wolf growled. “He’s my Alpha.” Christoffer
disappeared into the bathroom only to reappear in his cell.

“What does that mean?” Mirela asked, pressing herself
against the bars separating them.

“A wolf’s Alpha is… He is like a general. On a run or in a
fight, all the pack will follow the Alpha without question. He’s like a king,
in that his word is law. But he is a guardian too. When a pack member is in
trouble it is up to the Alpha to get them out of it. The Alpha will protect his
pack at all costs in exchange for their obedience and loyalty. A strong Alpha
is safety and happiness.

“Obedience to the Alpha is second nature to me. I’ve heard
that wolves who are raised without pack have to learn it, but for me it is like
breathing. I will be obedient to my Alpha.” He looked at William. “Always.”

“Just a moment,” William said. “Are you insinuating that you
only did…what you did, because I asked you to?”

“I’m not insinuating anything. I’m telling you that I did it
because you wanted me to and I obeyed you.”

William’s blood ran cold. “I-I thought you wanted it. I
thought…” He put his hands over his face. Dear God, had he just raped the poor
boy without realizing it?

“I did.” Christoffer’s voice was soft.

William looked up to see he was now standing at the bars.

“I did want it.”

“If you hadn’t…”

Christoffer shrugged. “I don’t know, I’ve never had an Alpha
ask something of me that I truly didn’t want to do.”

The knot of self-loathing in William’s belly loosened. “I
didn’t understand what being your Alpha meant.”

“Why didn’t you?” The question came not from Christoffer but
from Mirela. The words were confrontational but the tone was not. She seemed
genuinely confused. “Has your family not always had one wolf and one falcon?”

Should he tell them? No, he didn’t trust them enough for
that.

“That is of no consequence,” he said, tone stiff, daring her
to argue.

She was ready to accept that dare—her lips parted with
another comment, but Christoffer stopped her.

“Leave it alone,” he said.

Mirela bowed her head.

An idea glimmered to life in William’s mind. Would it work?

“Excuse me,” he said and walked away, leaving them gaping at
him.

William locked the door to the pen and strode across the
grass. He headed not for the house but for the stables. Andy, Edward’s young
nephew, came out at the sound of his footsteps, earbuds dangling around his
neck.

“My lord?” the boy said nervously.

“Saddle my horse.”

The boy looked at the fading light, and there was a split
second of hesitation. It was growing dim to be out riding and the boy was right
to be concerned. Nonetheless Andy headed into the stable, pulling the gelding
away from its dinner.

In just over five minutes William was mounted on a
disgruntled horse. Aware of approaching dusk, William kept to the manicured
grass. He rode the horse at a sedate canter so he could muse on his new idea.

His carefully diagrammed plans were not working. William was
man enough and shrewd enough to accept that. Those plans had been based on
animal training and domestication techniques and William’s own experiences.

Either he hadn’t done enough to control them—he touched his
bandaged face at the thought—or he had done too little of the right thing.

The run this afternoon had been Christoffer’s idea. Ignoring
what had happened at the end, the event had been a success. He had no doubt
that the wolf would obey him and return if called. More importantly, the wolf
had taken him through the woods, letting him experience something no other
mortal would.

William needed to remember that this was not all about duty
and being the Lord of Eahrington. He, William, was entitled to find some
enjoyment, even pleasure, in this. That thought led to ones about Christoffer,
and how it had felt to have Christoffer on his knees…

Right.

Sucking his cock.

Delicious.

He shook away the thought and turned the horse toward the
stables. The relationship between the Lord of Eahrington and the wolf was set.
The wolf’s mindset toward his Alpha sped up a process William had expected to
take much longer.

The relationship between William and Christoffer, however,
was another matter.

But if William’s plan was to work, it would mean more trust
in the wolf, and a chance for them to work together…to tame the falcon.

* * * * *

“Christoffer, will you come with me?”

Mirela shrieked in surprise when William spoke. He was there
in the doorway, though she hadn’t seen him come in. She was seated cross-legged
on Christoffer’s cot, the canvas bag draped over her lap to preserve her
modesty.

Christoffer had shucked his jeans and used them as a lasso
to snag the dinner bag after William left. They’d eaten together, chatting as
they shared the food and water. Mirela had asked Christoffer a few questions
about being “bi” and he’d responded without condescension. This led him to talk
about the “gay scene” in most of the cities of Europe.

The locations were places she knew only from photos, though
she’d traveled most of Europe with her family. But the culture he talked about
was beyond her understanding.

“What about straight people? What do they do? Do they have
clubs?”

So then he’d told her about the general nightlife scene. He
talked about Amsterdam and its ridiculous excess, France’s out-of-date
discothèques and the horror that was drunk British teenagers.

She could hear her father’s voice in her head, warning her
of the vices and lies of outsiders, about their promiscuous ways and how they
disgraced their families.

But it did all sound rather exciting.

Christoffer had been reciting the recipe for a martini—one
of the only drinks she could name and that was only from having snuck in and
watched her uncle’s collection of Bond movies—when William appeared.

She looked at Christoffer, who turned attentively to
William. Something must have passed between the two men, because Christoffer
rose too.

Fear curled in her belly as if it were a snake. William’s
chin was up, his gaze direct. He was again the sword-wearing man she’d first
seen standing before the house. This was the Lord of Eahrington, her master.

Mirela bowed her head. She would be obedient, whatever he
said, whatever he asked.

“Christoffer,” William said, opening the cage door. “Join
me.”

Christoffer stepped out without hesitation. He was no longer
laughing with remembered amusement or devilment from telling her naughty
things. His face was calm and waiting, that of a warrior. Mirela remembered
stories of knights, how they would ride out on quests for their king. If
William were the king, then Christoffer was his loyal knight.

What did that make her?

William motioned Christoffer to the exterior door, which was
closed but not locked. Before he followed Christoffer out, William looked at
Mirela, one of the few times he’d done so since she’d hurt him.

His eyes seemed to measure her. What was he looking for?

She rose, bag clutched over the apex of her thighs.

The corner of his eyes crinkled and the smile slowly worked
its way down to his mouth. His lips curled up and he nodded slightly.

Then he was gone.

All alone, Mirela sank to the cot. She worried for
Christoffer. What was William going to do to him? Christoffer was her only hope
at companionship since the lord hated her, and she didn’t want anything bad to
happen to him.

But Lord William had smiled at her. What did that smile
mean?

Feeling terribly alone, she curled up on Christoffer’s cot,
smelling earth and moss. She let those scents lull her to sleep.

William led Christoffer back to the house. The boy was
subdued as they entered through the side door. Had it been only a week ago that
Christoffer had been laughing and joking, snapping at Mirela and leaping about?

It was a different man who entered now.

William knew he’d hurt the wolf’s feelings with his behavior
toward him after their…interlude. He couldn’t bring himself to apologize for
that, as it would necessitate acknowledging that it had happened.

Hopefully Christoffer would understand that what he was
about to say was a measure of William’s regard for him.

He motioned the boy into the hall and, as Christoffer
passed, William caught a distinct and unpleasant aroma.

“Follow me,” he said, changing his mind at the last moment.
He took Christoffer to a suite of guest rooms. Several years ago he’d remodeled
it, turning three rooms into two with a shared sitting room and bath.

He led Christoffer into the bathroom, which was spacious
with a tub and separate shower stall.

“I thought you might like a shower,” he told the younger
man.

“Smell finally got to you?” Christoffer asked, a hint of
teasing in his voice.

“Actually you smell good,” William said, startling himself.
He clamped his teeth shut, wishing he’d bitten out his tongue. Christoffer’s
head was now cocked and he was looking at William in a knowing way.

“Are you planning to shower with me?”

“No. I am not,” William clipped out.

Christoffer laughed rather than take offense and William was
glad. Why did he find it so hard to talk to this boy?

Christoffer pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it to
the floor. His slid his hand down his belly to the top of his pants. “You
should join me.”

William watched his hand, nearly helpless with a desire he
couldn’t acknowledge. “I’m straight.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“I’ve never done that.” William cleared his throat. “What we
did before. I’d never done it.”

Christoffer laughed. “I’ve heard that one. Closeted old guys
are so cute when they’re in denial.”

Old guys?
Was that how Christoffer saw him? That was
slightly disturbing.

“I’m neither closeted nor in denial.”

“Sure.” Christoffer undid the snap of his jeans, slid the
zipper down. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband.

“I’m going to get you some clothes,” William said, starting
to turn away.

“Run, run from the wolf,” Christoffer chanted.

Something inside William snapped.

He stepped up to Christoffer, yanked his jeans and underwear
down to midthigh and grabbed the boy’s soft cock. It started to harden in his
hand.

“If and when I want this,” he tugged, “I will tell you.
Don’t think me the fool, or that you can dominate me.”

“No, Lord William. I didn’t think that.” Christoffer lowered
his head.

“Good. The teasing I enjoy.” He released Christoffer, who
staggered back a step, nearly stumbling with his pants around his knees. “Just
don’t take it too far.” He left, closing the bathroom door behind him.

Rubbing his hand against his thigh, William grinned.
Catching sight of himself in the mirror, he stopped. He seemed more…alive. It
wasn’t just the grin, because when he wiped that from his face, admonishing
himself that it was not becoming of the Lord of Eahrington, the spark of life
remained.

He had other things to worry about now; later he would make
time to examine the changes he felt in himself. For now he had to get the boy
some clothes, then work on a new plan.

* * * * *

William took Christoffer to his study. At some point it had
been a drawing room, but in his grandfather’s time the purpose had changed. His
grandfather had chosen to keep the library with its ceiling-high shelves as it
was and sacrifice the drawing room. It was a decision with which William
heartily agreed.

His heavy desk was graced with a beautiful all-glass lamp
and a few stacks of papers. Sitting behind it, William could put his feet up as
he took a break from running his empire.

Though he hardly had an empire to run. He owned land, and
through hell or high water, land ownership was a moneymaker. He leased land to
farmers who grew coppice, occasionally sold off pieces to the government for
road works, owned buildings—including two smaller manor houses that were now
B&Bs. He delegated the property management to professionals and, much to
the praise of avid English countryside lovers everywhere, left huge stretches
of land untouched, allowing the hardwood and meadow plants to thrive.

All this took distressingly little of his time.

Planning for the arrival of his Hunting Pair was a task for
which he’d been preparing for years. He’d installed the bars in the pen
himself, not wanting to have to explain why he wanted a building completely
lined with heavy prison-like bars.

After all this it was ludicrous how poorly prepared he
really was. He realized he’d been prepping for his father’s falcon and wolf,
not his own. If he’d been to a therapist, which was entirely unnecessary as he
saw no reason to burden a stranger with his problems, they might have told him
that he’d never dealt with what had occurred in his childhood and was trying as
an adult to fix what had happened.

What had been done could never be undone, and his family had
never been the same.

William was no fool. Now that he acknowledged that the
training was not going well, he intended to seek expert help in developing a
new plan, particularly for the falcon.

That expert was Christoffer.

He passed the younger man a gin and tonic and settled into
one of the armchairs near the window. Christoffer sat across from him. Taking a
sip, the wolf looked up in surprise.

“This is actually good.” He took another sip.

“It’s made with good gin,” William replied.

Christoffer looked different in the clothes William had
brought him. The shirt hung loose, as William’s shoulders were broader, but the
slacks, sitting low on his hips, made him appear slim and elegant, like a male
model.

His hair was darker in its wet state and he’d slicked it
behind his ears. His eyes were almost too blue, and seemed to miss nothing.
William wondered in a moment of fancy if those startling eyes were the reason Christoffer
hid behind his hair.

“Have you deduced why I brought you here?” William asked.

“Deduced?” Christoffer smiled. “Why no, double oh seven, I
haven’t.” His attempt at a British accent was terrible.

William chuckled and took a sip before saying, “I seem to
have made some mistakes when I planned out my training of both you and the
falcon.”

“Where, specifically, did you get your ideas?” Christoffer
asked, leaning forward.

“That’s not important. What is important is that I create a
clear plan, yet my first attempt with Mirela was less than ideal.” William
touched his bandage, remembering that he had a follow-up visit to the doctor
tomorrow. “And though we have formed a solid and secure bond,” William motioned
between them and Christoffer nodded in agreement, “it was not my techniques
that made it so. Was it?”

Christoffer considered that a moment before answering. “No,
it wasn’t really. All that ‘change, change back’ stuff was stupid. Putting your
hand in my mouth, while I understand it was a trust exercise for you, meant
nothing to me. I don’t eat human hands, nor do I plan to. For me it is the fact
that you’re my Alpha. You always have been. That first day, out there,” he
motioned to the window, “you forced me down, controlled my actions.”

Christoffer stood and began to pace. “I don’t know how to
describe it, but for me that instant did it. From then on you were my Alpha. I
tried to fight it, I did, but it is not my nature. I planned to run but I
won’t. I won’t leave you.”

It wasn’t until then that William realized exactly how
serious Christoffer was. For the boy this was it, the rest of his life was
here, at William’s side. Something inside William shifted.

You’ll never be alone again. You’ll never be lonely,
never be bored.

William had to look down into his drink to hide what he was
feeling.

Don’t hide it, let the boy know that you will care for
him. Remember what he said about an Alpha’s duties to his pack.

William put down his drink and rose. Christoffer’s face was
naked with emotions William didn’t want to see, but forced himself to. He took
the younger man’s face in his hands.

“I will always be here. You are safe with me.”

There was more he should have said, more Christoffer needed
to hear, but in that moment it was all William could give.

The kiss came naturally. There was no protest of sexual
orientation, no knee-jerk shame. This wasn’t about sex, it was about comfort
and place. William bought Christoffer’s lips to his. The kiss was dry but full
of promise. William opened and closed his lips slowly, massaging Christoffer’s.

When Christoffer’s tongue touched his lips William broke the
kiss, gently so as not to hurt his feelings.

Christoffer’s eyes were wide and oh so blue.

William led him to his chair, pressing his shoulder until he
sat, then resumed his own seat.

Things weren’t settled between them but it would do for now.

“Christoffer, I would like to hear your thoughts on how I
should train my Hunting Pair. If you were in my position what would you do?”

He took a moment to respond. “What would I do? Well… I guess
I’d decide who I wanted to train, the human or the animal.”

William grunted. “Explain.”

“Well, you put us in cages as human, took us out and
expected us to be perfectly behaved as animals. That doesn’t make any sense. If
you wanted to train the animal side, then you should have looked into how to
train wolves and falcons.”

“I was doing that.”

“No, you were trying to control us while demanding our
obedience. It is not the same. You don’t train a dog by sticking your hand in
its mouth. You train a dog to know its place and then it knows automatically
not to bite you.

“Even when I am human my instincts are those of the wolf. I
responded to you because even when I was human you treated me like a wolf,
forcing me to expose my neck, physically forcing my submission. You treated me
like a wolf—like a member of your pack.”

William grimaced, frustrated with himself. “But I did not
behave that way with Mirela. I wasn’t clear with her.”

“It was easy with me, we already said that, because I come
from a pack, I need and understand submission. With Mirela…” Christoffer stood
and began pacing again. It was clear the boy liked to move about, and William
felt guilty for having kept him confined.

“Mirela is closer to her falcon than I am to my wolf. I
don’t think Mirela liked her human life. Sounds like her family was strict…
Well, I guess that’s obvious considering where she’s from. She was born to be a
tribute, nothing more. I came because my sister, who was supposed to come,
found a mate. Mirela was always different…apart, and so I think her falcon is
the only place she feels happy.”

“‘I need to fly,’” William repeated.

“Exactly.” It was clear from the way he spoke about her that
Christoffer had spent a fair amount of time talking to her and cared for her.
“When she woke up with that collar on…she went crazy. She tried and tried to change.
She was slamming her whole body against the bars, trying to hit the collar
against them to break it. I’m sorry.” Christoffer turned to him. “I should have
said something. I should have told you exactly how dangerous it was to let her
out.”

“If I remember correctly you did warn me.”

“Not well enough. I was pissed at you.”

“Understandable. I was a damnable fool.”

“You’re human, it’s okay.”

William’s eyebrows rose. He’d never considered that they
might pity him for being human. It was they who deserved pity for being
unrefined, half animal. Though what would it be like to run through the forest
like a wolf?

“You think I should treat Mirela as a falcon, even when she
is human.”

“Yes. Falcons don’t have packs or Alphas, so it won’t be the
same as what you did with me. I think they have mates.”

William nodded. He had done his research, though little help
it had been.

“She is more animal than human. Train one and the other will
fall in line.”

William considered it. He knew somewhere there was an old
manual, very old actually, on falconry. He could ask her to change to a falcon,
then train her as he would a hunting bird, forgoing his plans to have her
change back and forth.

He didn’t like that idea. First, he didn’t trust her as an
animal. Second, if he’d wanted a hunting bird he could have purchased one. The
power of the Hunting Pair was that they were more intelligent than animals.

“How would you train a woman?” he wondered aloud.

Christoffer look baffled and shook his head.

“No,” William agreed. “I don’t think that’s possible. I do
not want to train a pure falcon, nor is it possible to train a woman. But…” He
rose and refilled his glass, a smile spreading across his face as he warmed to
his idea. He turned to Christoffer.

“What if we use the tools of falcon training on the woman?”

* * * * *

Mirela crouched, spread her arms and called her falcon.

Nothing happened of course.

Standing, she returned to her cot, flopping down in utter
despair. She’d never been so lonely or bored in her life. It had been three
days since William took Christoffer away. That was three days of no one to talk
to, nothing to do. William still brought her meals, but simply dropped them off
and left.

Each time the door opened she promised herself she would say
something, but without Christoffer’s guidance she was frightened, and so never
did.