Damian's Wolf - 32. Family Matters

Jordan snuggled against his mates, Damian and Lysander's arms around the wolf. He could feel the pull of the moon fading, the wolf whimpering as he slowly lost control.

As the morning light passed through a window, shining down on their bed, Jordan felt his body twitch, his human form taking over once again. Beside him, Lysander grunted as his body melted into the brown skinned elf. He snored on, his body used to the early morning change.

Jordan let out a quiet sigh, nuzzling into the elf. He hadn't slept all night, his wolf wanting to get out and run. The werewolf was exhausted, and he hoped he would be able to get a little sleep.

"Jordan…? You awake?"

Damian yawned behind him, wrapping an arm around the man. His tail brushed over the man's leg, Jordan shivering slightly at the touch.

A slender rod poked him, Jordan inhaling sharply as his cheeks clenched.

"Damian?"

The neko murmured, his hips humping into Jordan gently.

"Stop… please…"

"Are… are you okay?"

Damian nestled his chin over Jordan's shoulder, his ears folding slightly.

"Yeah, I just can't… I don't want to be fucked."

"Okay."

Damian kissed Jordan gently, holding him. The neko purred, his tongue licking at Jordan's neck in a soothing manner.

"Are you trying to get me going?"

"Maybe," Damian admitted.

"I'm not sure this is the best place to… get into this. You're a little loud," Jordan smirked.

"Am not!"

"Both of you are loud," Lysander muttered suddenly.

"Oh, you wanna see how loud I can be? Oh… oh Sander!" Damian moaned loudly, giggling.

The werewolf suddenly threw himself over Jordan, slapping his hand over Damian's mouth.

"Come on, mei esul will hear you!" he hissed.

"Wow, a little nervous?" Damian laughed.

"Uh, guys, you're squishing me…" Jordan said, trying to push Lysander off him.

Dylan's voice suddenly sang out, demanding attention, and the three sighed in unison.

"Shall we greet the day with a clean diaper and formula?" Damian asked, standing up.

Jordan's eyes travelled over the neko's naked body, taking in his morning wood as Damian stretched.

"Fine. But I think someone could use a little juice after," he said, motioning to Lysander.

The elf grunted.

"Not here," he said.

"Look at you, willing to suck a cat off in a public bathroom, but too shy to fuck him at your mother's home," Jordan smirked.

Damian blushed fiercely at the reminder. He dressed in a hurry, before picking up Dylan.

"Not in front of the baby, guys…" he protested.

"The stinky baby…"

Jordan sighed, taking Dylan from Damian. He handed the small neko back a minute later, all fresh and clean. Dressing quickly, he pressed a kiss into Damian's lips, following it up by hugging Lysander.

"You know, I'm supposed to be the grumpy wolf," he chided.

Lysander shook his head.

"I'm sorry, I just… I still can't believe my etul. He would rather leave his mate than apologise. What kind of elf does that? What kind of wolf does that?"

"Don't break your head over your father's choice," Damian said, joining the hug. "We love each other, right? Who cares what your father thinks?"

There was a quiet knock on the door, cutting off Lysander's reply. His mother called through the door, the elf responding in kind.

"Esul made breakfast," he said quietly. "I guess we should eat."

The trio left the room, making their way downstairs to the kitchen. Jordan began preparing a bottle for Dylan as Lysander set the table. The smell of meat filled the air, a spiced scent that almost made Jordan sneeze.

"West Elven sausages," Lysander shrugged at the man's wince. "They're seasoned heavily to avoid tasting like… well, like neko fare, according to most elves. I don't get it. Neko food is delicious."

"Unless you're eating it from the dumpsters," Damian noted.

Both Jordan and Lysander frowned at the neko, Jordan taking Dylan to feed him.

"Well… that's never happening again," the man said firmly, as Lysander's mother carried a plate of sliced sausage and scrambled eggs to the table.

"Lysander, eim me cenor du weirlen du eyn etul," she said as they started eating.

"Esul, cal nela heda eynsur," Lysander said quietly, as Damian looked down at his phone.

"Lysander, he's her mate," the neko said. "I'm sure she's worried about him."

His phone spoke in an Elvish monotone, Lysander's mother frowning slightly.

"Terna ey. Mei serael ek ela geyn eln ey enarl," she said.

Damian blushed as he looked back down at his phone. Jordan frowned, looking between the cat and the phone as he fed Dylan.

"Wait… you can translate through your phone? That is so cool!"

Dylan let out a suckling burp, the bottle falling from his lips. Jordan lifted him up, rubbing his back as Lysander's mother left the room.

She returned a moment later, a shaky breath leaving her.

"Se ek nela weirlen…"

Jordan frowned, not sure exactly what was happening.

"It was the full moon. I doubt he had his phone," Lysander said, biting into a sausage.

There was a loud knock on the front door, the three werewolves frowning.

"Is… is that him?" Damian asked.

"No… that's Orin… what's he doing here?"

Lysander stood up, but was shooed down by his mother. She left the room, the door opening a minute later.

"Who's Orin?" Jordan asked.

"A wolf guard. We have some history. I helped his son when I was younger, and he helped me get through school to be a medic," Lysander frowned. "I hope he's not here about mei etul…"

"You don't think he would have done something, do you?" Damian asked nervously.

"Oh no, he would never-"

They were interrupted by a sudden yelp from the front door.

"Esul?!"

Lysander stood up, rushing from the room. Damian and Jordan frowned, the neko hurrying after the wolf. Jordan followed more sedately, still burping Dylan.

He found Lysander standing in the doorway, looking pale.

An elf stood in the door, a sad nod precluding a gentle exit. The door closed, leaving them in silence.

Finally, Lysander's mother turned, heading back to the kitchen almost mechanically.

"Sander…?"

"He's dead," the elf said roughly.

A disbelieving laugh flew from him.

"Well, I guess that's it, more death…"

Damian pulled the elf into his arms, Jordan looking on helplessly.

"I'm sorry Lysander," the neko whispered.

"Yeah well… that doesn't bring him back, does it?"

The elf pulled away from his mate, leaving the room in a silent cloud of pain.

The house felt heavy through the morning, Lysander locking himself away. Jordan and Damian took turns trying to coax the elf from his room, to no avail.

Near lunch, Jordan found himself in the kitchen, planning to make the midday meal. To his surprise, Lysander's mother was already working in the kitchen, humming softly, as though unaffected by her mate's passing.

"Oh… um… Nevuna, cal ey… cal eim enad?" the man stammered, not sure he was getting the words right.

"Oh! Help? Yes, sandwiches…" the elf said, her use of the human language broken yet surprising.

"You can understand us?" he asked, helping to spread a sauce on bread slices.

"Yes… Alistair keep quiet."

"Really?" Jordan frowned.

Why would her mate not want her to speak Common? He knew many elves preferred Rellanic, but to force her…

"Wait… were you… unhappy with him?"

She sighed, nodding.

"He owns house. But now, I own house. So… happy accident? Areula are… hard."

It made no sense. She was… happy her mate was dead? What was happening?

"Lysander is hurting. How can I help him? He… doesn't know you two were unhappy, does he?"

The elf shook her head, a frown appearing on her face.

"Nela. But he okay. Food help."

"The truth… that would help, wouldn't it? He would understand, I know he would," Jordan mentioned uncertainly.

"Neya. But… he sad already. Later."

The elf set a sandwich on a plate, handing it to Jordan.

"Food and mate," she said, smiling at him.

Nodding, the man excused himself, carrying the food to his distraught mate.