Damian's Wolf - 15. Dinner With the Mates

Damian chatted excitedly with Lysander as they carried bags into the kitchen. Jordan was amazed at how open he was with the elf. Apparently once he decided he liked someone, Damian was all over them.

“Do you need any help in the kitchen?” Jordan asked.

“No. You stay out of the kitchen,” Damian warned. “I heard you and Arisa talking about your fiasco with the fish.”

“It’s okay Aerael,” Sander smiled at Jordan. “Te Kalael and I will make dinner. Why don’t you go work on your bedroom?”

Jordan huffed quietly at the dismissal. He couldn’t help feeling like he was being pushed away. Grabbing the bags of clothing, the werewolf stalked down the hall, turning left into the empty bedroom.

Jordan pulled the blanket out of the bags, spreading it out to cover the neatly made bed. He would have to ask Sander where the wash was eventually; Ryan had left that little detail out.

The man began hanging clothes in the walk in closet. He wondered for a moment how a pack could afford to give out apartments like this for, what, four gold a month? If they had bought the land from the city and built on it… But that would still leave utilities.

Pushing the thoughts away for another time, Jordan carried a bottle of shampoo into the bathroom, grinning as he saw the size of the bathtub within, easily big enough for two people, maybe even three if they squeezed.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Jordan returned to the kitchen, following the smell of cooking bird. Sander was setting the kitchen table for three, Damian turning a boneless slab of meat in a pan filled with an amazing smelling sauce.

“Dinner is almost ready. Pigeon cooks fast,” Damian smiled at him.

The sight of the neko’s smile stopped the wolf dead. It was one of the purest looks of joy he had seen on the cat’s face, and it was incredible. Jordan felt his stomach flip, his wolf urging him forward to take their mate.

Looking away, Jordan found himself gazing at Lysander. The effect was even worse with the elf, and Jordan finally decided to just close his eyes against the lure of his mates.

“It’s only going to get worse from what I’ve heard,” Lysander said.

“I hope my cooking doesn’t get worse-” Damian started.

“No Kalael, Jordan is feeling the call of his wolf.”

The elf’s voice was filled with amusement.

“What does Kalael mean?” Jordan grumbled tiredly.

“Kitten. He’s a little bundle of energy, just like a kitten.”

Already the wolf was smitten with Damian, not that Jordan was surprised. The neko was a very likeable person outside of the shyness around strangers.

“Salei vey areula tel kriyal Aerael. Mela sei eyn,” Lyander said, a slender hand brushing over Jordan’s left cheek. “Listen to the call of your wolf. It is natural for us.”

Jordan shivered at the elf’s touch, his own fingers tracing Lysander’s.

The man forced himself to take a step back.

“I can’t.”

“You mean you won’t. It is okay, you are not ready yet. No one here will judge you. We all make this journey with our wolves, some quicker than others. It is a journey you must make for yourself, at your own pace.”

Lysander smiled at the werewolf as Jordan opened his eyes again.

“Will you allow me to hug you at least?” the elf smiled gently.

“I suppose,” Jordan shrugged.

He was too tired to fight the elf over a hug. The sooner he got to bed, the better. Especially if it was a bed holding Damian-

Jordan fought back the thought. No. The last thing he needed was to be thrust into a sexual situation with the neko.

Lysander drew the werewolf into a hug, leaning his weight against Jordan while still managing to hold them both up. Jordan’s breath caught at the scent of the elf, his white hair draped right under Jordan’s nose. The man could feel his body reacting to the closeness of the elf, and he gently, but firmly, pushed Lysander away.

“You are nineteen years old?” he asked to distract himself from the smell. A smell of freshly bound books, of pages filled with fresh ink.

“Twenty,” Lysander corrected with a wink.

Damn, the elf knew it was a distraction.

“Dinner is ready,” Damian interrupted, dishing the pigeon breasts onto plates.

“Excellent,” Lysander beamed at the cat, moving to pour some wine into a trio of glasses. “I’ve been waiting for an excuse to open this bottle. Authentic neko fare is just the perfect reason.”

He carried the glasses to the kitchen table as Damian busied himself with the plates.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Jordan asked.

“Just sit there and look handsome.”

Damian bit his lips as the words slipped out, and the neko lowered his head slightly as he finished carrying the plates to the table.

Someone knocked on the apartment door as Lysander went to sit down, and the elf stood up again. Crossing the room, he opened the door, smiling at a woman and a wolf standing outside.

“Hey Sander. Do you want to go on a run with us tonight?” the woman asked.

“Not tonight Sara. I have work early tomorrow.”

“Oh. Something smells amazing in here. Did you finally learn to cook properly?”

“I wish. I got a couple roommates today. One of them happens to be well versed in neko cuisine.”

Jordan noticed Damian had pulled his hood over his head again, sitting in a way that hid his tail.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “They won’t touch you.”

“Ah, you’ve ensnared yourself a fellow cat lover,” the woman smirked at the door, the wolf beside her letting out a huff that was clearly a laugh. “Well, Jacob and I will be out running for a bit if you want to join us.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Lysander smiled. “Have a good evening.”

He closed the door and walked back to the table.

“Sorry about that. Those two are always inviting me out on runs. I go occasionally, but usually I like to curl up with a book or a good bone.”

“Do you only read history books, or do you like other stories?” Jordan questioned.

“Actually, I enjoy reading stories about wolves. Maybe it’s just because of my family, but I’ve always been interested in mates. They took it a little far though,” Lysander chuckled.

Jordan nodded slightly before taking a bite of the bird on his plate. He had never had pigeon before, not trusting the dish at the neko restaurant. The pigeons in the city were known to eat all sorts of trash.

But the pigeon on his plate, it was a study in flavour. It tasted a bit like the venison Arisa had once gotten him to eat, the sauce around it enhancing the natural taste.

Peering at the glass of wine, Jordan decided he would only drink a little. He didn’t trust drunk Jordan, but he didn’t want to be rude either.

An hour later he had a nice buzz going. Jordan and Lysander cleaned up the kitchen, washing the dishes by hand. Damian had vanished into the bathroom to take a shower, and the two could hear the sound of water running into the tub.

“I have to confess, I am a little jealous of you,” Lysander said, drying off a plate. “You’ve been eating like this for a week?”

“I wish,” Jordan snorted. “Money’s been a little tight for the past few months. It will be much better now I’m not paying three gold a month for weekly magic classes.”

“Three gold? That’s outrageous!” Lysander exclaimed.

“She said she was the best,” Jordan shrugged. “It’s not like I knew any better.”

“Most of my friends pay about fifteen silver at most.”

“Well now I’m not paying anything,” Jordan said, handing a plate to Lysander.

Their fingers touched, and the man found himself holding the contact longer than was necessary. His wolf sang in his chest, urging him forward.

The plate slipped from their hands, landing precariously on the counter as Jordan leaned toward the elf. This was the wine talking, that delicious cranberry flavoured drink, but at the moment, Jordan found he didn’t care if he was being influenced.

Their lips pressed together, and the human pushed forward suddenly, his body seeking more of the elf. Lysander didn’t back down either, as Damian might have. He took all Jordan had to offer in the kiss and returned it just as vigorously. Their bodies meshed, the elf embracing the man.

A sudden crash broke the moment, both of them stepping apart to stare at the shattered plate on the ground. Jordan’s face burned as he came to his senses. He had just been making out with a stranger.

No, with his mate.

With his mate, who he had only known for maybe six hours. A stranger.

“So much for taking it slow,” Lysander giggled nervously.

Jordan knelt down silently, picking up the shattered remains of the plate.

“Do… Do you have a garbage bin?” he asked quietly, clearing his throat.

“Uh, yeah, in there,” Lysander said, pointing at a cabinet.

Jordan disposed of the dish, the elf grabbing a broom to clean up the smaller shards.

Jordan finished washing the rest of the dishes quickly, leaving them on the counter for Lysander to dry.

“I, um, I’m going to head to bed.”

Lysander nodded. His hand touched Jordan’s shoulder as the man started down the hall.

“Don’t let this ruin us,” he said quietly. “It was going to happen, right?”

“Right,” Jordan muttered. “But not yet.”

With that, the man walked down the hall, turning into his bedroom.