Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Damian's Wolf - 25. A Neko's Mark
"That will be five copper."
Jordan took the silver, cringing at the tingle he always felt when he touched the metal. He handed five copper back to the woman with her book.
"Thank you," the woman smiled, stepping aside for the next person.
Jordan checked the books he was handed, mentally totalling the cost. Three books, all rather thick.
"I have a school project coming up," the elf explained.
Jordan nodded.
"Two silver."
Fuck he hated these coins. Why were werewolves allergic to silver anyway? It was a stupid allergy.
"I hate silver," the elf sighed, handing over the coin.
Surprised, Jorda took a deep breath, dropping the silver into the till. There it was, that subtle smell of dog.
"You and me both," he muttered.
The elf blinked, taking a closer look at the man.
"I... uh, this may seem kinda bold, but would you like to get a drink sometime?" he asked.
Jordan shrugged.
"This week's a little busy. I need to help my mate with his son," he replied.
"Oh. Sorry."
The elf's ears turned red. He took his books from Jordan and turned away quickly, allowing the next person to take his place.
And so it continued for nearly two hours, a nonstop stream of customers. Jordan wondered where they had all come from. He seemed to notice a lot more wolves entering the store lately. The werewolf was grateful for the increased business. He just wished he knew what had caused it.
"Hey Jordan, why don't you take a quick break," Blanche said, carrying a box of books out of the back room.
Nodding, Jordan stepped into the back room, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Dialing Damian's number, the man waited for the neko to pick up.
"This is Damian."
"Hey, how are things going?" Jordan asked, staring at the wall.
"Peaceful, for once. Sander's feeding Dylan, and I'm on my way back from the store. I wanted to make a special dinner tonight."
"Really? I could have picked up-"
"No offense, but I don't trust you to get the right sauce for the pheasant," Damian said, a smile in his voice.
"Is Lysander feeling any better?"
"He smiled when he saw Dylan. I'm thinking that's a good sign. What about you?"
"It's busy here, but I'm not going to complain. More money is good. There's a lot of werewolves coming in though."
"Weird. Do you think it's because they know you're there?"
Jordan shrugged, even though he knew the neko couldn't see it.
"The glass guy said the wolves are pretty good at sticking together. So, maybe? Oh, and I told Miss Reyla about Dylan."
He heard a sigh, Damian muttering.
"Why did you do that? Now she's going to make me stay home."
"No, you're not staying home. You can still work. Remember, Lysander is taking care of Dylan. You're just taking care of Lysander for a bit."
Jordan heard a sudden crash from the main part of the store.
"Hey, I need to go," he said quickly. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Hanging up, Jordan hurried out of the back room, finding Blanche picking up a pile of books. He knelt beside her, helping her put the books back into the box.
"Are you okay?"
"Oh yeah, just a little clumsy in my old age," Blanche chuckled.
Jordan lifted the box, setting it bask on the counter.
"It's almost four. Why don't we close early, and you can get home and relax," he suggested.
"That sounds good to me," Blanche replied. "I'll get those books shelved tomorrow."
Jordan approached the apartment, fumbling with his key. He noticed Claire's door opening slightly, the woman glancing outside. It closed quickly, and the man shrugged. She seemed a little weird, but maybe Arisa liked weird friends.
His door opened, and he was pulled into the apartment, Lysander's lips shoving against his.
"Hello to you too..." the man said.
"Sorry about that," Lysander sighed quietly.
"Why? You needed a kiss."
Jordan pulled the elf toward him again, their lips meeting tenderly. Lysander's arms wrapped around him, hands running down Jordan's back.
"I think I need something else, but... I don't know if it's too soon..." the elf whispered.
Jordan brushed Lysander's hair out of his eyes, a motion that seemed foreign yet familiar.
"I don't really know what to tell you," he admitted. "But I won't judge you."
A door closed, Damian walking out of Dylan's room. The neko approached Jordan, kissing him lightly.
"Dylan's asleep. How was your day?" he asked.
"Busy. But we don't need to be at work until ten tomorrow."
Jordan pulled the two against him, hands rubbing their hair gently.
"I love you," he said.
Smiling at Jordan, Damian pulled away, stepping into the kitchen.
"I'm going to get started on dinner," he said.
A hand pressed into Jordan's back, Lysander moving him toward the hall.
"Okay. Lysander and I are going to spend some time together," he said, the elf hurrying him toward their room.
"Have fun," Damian called after them.
Lysander closed the bedroom door, pinning Jordan against it. The two kissed long and deep, Lysander searching Jordan's eyes.
"How are you feeling?"
The elf shrugged.
"I know I should be upset, but she made her choice. It's done. And being upset isn't going to bring her back."
Lysander's hand toyed with Jordan's shirt, fingers dipping under the fabric to tease at his skin.
"I feel like... like I can't help anything, or anyone. And it scares me," he admitted. "No matter how many times I've dealt with crises, I've been in control, been able to help. But now... I don't know how to help myself."
"Then let me help you."
Jordan kissed Lysander gently, placing a hand on the elf's hip.
"You can still be in control. We agreed to that," he said.
"We did," Lysander nodded.
His hand touched Jordan's arm, a nail lightly running over the skin. The other hand tugged at Jordan's shirt, the man helping the elf pull it off.
"Do you know what I want?" Lysander breathed, pushing Jordan's pants down to his ankles.
The fabric was kicked aside as Jordan stepped back into the door with a quiet thump. Lysander embraced him tightly, rubbing his back as he buried his head in Jordan's shoulder.
"I want you to shift..."
Jordan removed his underpants, chewing his lips. He didn't want to shift, didn't want to give his wolf control over the moment. Teeth nipped at his ear, and the werewolf hissed quietly.
"I'm in control," Lysander reminded him. "Shift for me."
The human knelt, falling forward onto his hands. Lysander ran a hand down his back, as if he was petting Jordan, and the man shivered at the sensation. His wolf leapt forward in his mind, the hand of his mate nearly irresistable, and Jordan transformed.
Dropping heavily to the ground, the wolf huffed. Lysander sat beside him, stroking Jordan's back as he leaned against the wall. Jordan shifted his head, setting his chin in Lysander's lap, and closed his eyes as his mate pet him.
Lysander's scent filled his nose, musky and arousing. He could smell Damian in the kitchen, hear the sizzling of meat cooking. The wolf nuzzled Lysander's crotch, the elf inhaling sharply.
"Aerael, I don't think you want to do that," he said, gently pushing Jordan's nose away.
Jordan flicked his tongue out, licking Lysander's hand. His nose shoved back into Lysandere's crotch. He was going to taste the elf.
"Melur..." Lysander breathed, his eyes closed.
The wolf stood up, backing away with a look of concern. He focused, and a moment later, Jordan was kneeling next to Lysander in his human form.
"Are you okay?"
The elf shrugged.
"I'm not ready for that," he said quietly. "Can I just pet you?"
"I don't like wolfing out," Jordan sighed.
"Please?"
Jordan shifted back into his wolf, curling up next to Lysander. A minute later, the two turned their heads as the bedroom door opened. Damian stuck his head inside, his eyes brightening at the sight of Jordan as a wolf. He darted out of the room quickly and returned moments later with a pieve of meat in his hands.
"Here, try this," the neko grinned, tossing it to the wolf.
Jordan followed the meat, watching it hit the floor. He looked back at Damian, rolling his eyes as the neko laughed. Walking to the meat on the ground, he picked it up and swallowed it, grumbling quietly.
"Sorry, I didn't interrupt anything, did I?" Damian asked.
"Not really. I just needed to pet someone," Lysander shrugged, standing up.
"Okay, well dinner is ready. And Jordan, you look adorable."
The wolf huffed, looking away. Lysander's hand scratched behind Jordan's ears, the elf looking down at him.
"It's true, you know. Let your mates have this one."
Grumbling, Jordan nosed them out of the room, closing the door. He shifted again, his muscles tensing with the rapid changes. The werewolf dressed quickly, before rejoining his mates.
"We've seen you naked before," Damian pointed out as Lysander set the table.
"Yeah, but I felt like hiding," Jordan shrugged. "I wouldn't want to ruin you with my adorableness."
Shaking his head, the neko set three plates on the table, looking back into the hall.
"Do you think we should get Dylan?"
"No, let him sleep," Lysander replied.
"Okay."
The neko stuck his hands in his pockets, his tail twitching nervously as he looked at the table.
"So, I have a question," he said quietly. "We're mates, right? Nekos... we're very connected to our lovers and we like to have something to remember them by."
He pulled out a pair of necklaces, setting them on the table.
"I... I would.... Would you be willing to wear my necklaces?" he asked. "They're lockets, and they hold a bit of my hair. It would be like having me with you always..."
"Of course," Jordan said, picking up one of the necklaces.
It bore a wolf's head on it, the mouth opening when Jordan pulled on it to reveal a small lock of hair within.
"I would be honoured to wear your mark," Lysander said beside him.
The two walked around the table, closing in on the neko. Their arms closed around Damian, the neko letting out a loud purr as he buried his head into his mates.
- 31
- 17
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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