Damian's Wolf - 45. Extra Scene

“You know, crying kittens don’t set a very romantic mood.”

Damian bounced his son on his hip, carrying him through the apartment. So much had changed since he and Jordan had moved in just over a year ago, not least of which was the neko baby he was carrying.

The calico neko settled Dylan into his high chair, sprinkling a handful of bland cereal in front of the kitten. His mates were out shopping, for what he wasn’t sure. But he’d been relegated to baby duty for the morning, with the understanding that Lysander would take over for the afternoon. With luck, Dylan would go down for a nice long nap around noon, allowing the three mates to celebrate the day Damian had become a werewolf.

Cereal hit the neko’s cheek, Dylan’s face scrunching at the unsatisfactory meal, and Damian let out a quiet laugh.

“Plain foods not enough for your majesty?” he snorted. “Let’s see if we can find some cranberries for you.”

“I know he’s a neko, but banana slices would probably be better.”

Damian’s ears flicked at the words, and the neko spun on his heel, grinning at his mates.

“I didn’t hear the door open,” he said, hurrying toward the elf and the human.

“Ah, no peeking, mei kalael,” Lysander said, setting a dusky hand over the neko’s eyes before he could see what was in the bags.

“I wasn’t going to peek,” Damian protested, running his hand blindly up the elf’s chest.

He felt the wolf amulet he’d given the elf. Both his mates wore a matching amulet, holding twin locks of his fur. Neither ever forgot to wear the amulet, and the neko always felt a rush of gratitude toward them both.

Arms wrapped around him from behind, soft lips pressing into his, and Damian mewled quietly as he was pinned between his mates; his favourite spot in the entire world.

“I hope you’re not going to give Sander all your kisses.”

Jordan’s words slipped into his ear, and Damian relaxed into the man’s arms, turning his head so his other mate could kiss him too. Black hair fell in his face, and Damian pulled back, brushing it out of Jordan’s eyes. The man needed a haircut, but he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he suggested spending money on it.

“I just changed Dylan. He had a few hours to sleep, so I think he’ll be out for another nap soon,” the neko said.

“Well, why don’t you finish feeding him while Jordan and I get the bedroom ready?” Lysander grinned. “Maybe we can set up the playpen for him and celebrate your mating properly.”

The elf’s violet eyes flashed, giving the neko a glimpse at the hungry wolf behind them, and Damian gulped, an electric charge running through him.

“Okay,” he agreed meekly, turning back to finish his task.

He could hear the two moving things around in the bedroom, and Damian shivered with anticipation as he cut half a banana for Dylan. Lysander was very creative in bed, and Damian and Jordan had learned to trust the elf to know what he was doing. He’d once told them that working as a medic gave him good insight into what would and wouldn’t fit in certain places.

Half an hour later, the neko lifted his son out of the chair. Dylan was set in his play pen, burbling quietly as he reached for several toys. Making sure the kitten was safe and happy, Damian hurried to the bedroom, eager to see what his mates were up to.

Jordan blocked his path through the hall, a scowl on the werewolf’s face that sent chills through the neko. His mate reached out, grabbing Damian’s arm in a tight grip.

“Are you prepared to enter the den of wolves?”

Damian nodded quickly, and Jordan’s scowl deepened.

“You know the rules,” he said.

“Yes, I’m prepared,” Damian said, his tail twitching behind him.

He could never get anything past his mates, but that was half the fun. The neko wanted his mates to punish him, and then shower him with love. And he knew they would gladly deliver.

He was dragged into a dark room, his eyes not having a chance to adjust before a primal growl rumbled through the room. Jordan leaned into his back, growling softly into Damian’s ear.

“You better enjoy Sander’s love, because I get you after him.”

And then the man was gone, closing the door behind him. He’d keep an eye on Dylan, letting Damian enjoy this time with Lysander. It was how they’d mated him, and it would be how they recreated the scene.

Fifteen minutes later, the neko was laying under Jordan, the werewolf massaging the aches of repeated matings away. He felt more relaxed than he had in a long time.

But that relaxation vanished as a cry sounded from down the hall. Damian sighed quietly as he reached for his clothes.

“It seems King Dylan requests our attention.”

“Well, we better not disappoint the king,” Jordan chuckled, rolling out of the bed. “Hey Damian? I love you.”

The neko turned toward the man, leaning into him even as he buttoned the tail loop on the back of his pants. Their lips met tenderly, a vastly different display of love from what had happened mere minutes ago.

“I love you too.”