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    Yeoldebard
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

Damian's Wolf - 43. Surprise

The smell of coffee filled the air, slowly rousing Jordan from his sleep. It didn’t take his body long to follow his nose, the werewolf slipping out of the warm bed and leaving a lightly snoring elf behind.

Pulling on a pair of underpants, Jordan crept out of the room, pausing to stretch as the door closed quietly behind him. A peek into Dylan’s room reassured him that their son still slept, and Jordan stepped into the bathroom to take care of his morning business.

As he left the bathroom a minute later, the werewolf realized he was smelling more than just coffee. Hot milk mixed with the fresh bean roast that had awoken the slumbering wolf, and he found Damian standing over the sink in the brightly lit kitchen, the neko’s tail twitching in concentration.

It had been nearly a week since they’d finally bred their mate. A week of fucking in their spare time, of giving their mate what he desperately wanted, and the world went on around them. The wolves had retreated into their den after the disaster of the football match, focusing on caring for each other above all else, but that was going to end today. Jordan just wasn’t expecting it to end at four in the morning.

“What are you doing?” he asked curiously.

“Lumara’s tits!”

Damian let out a pained yelp amid a loud metallic clattering, and Jordan was at his side instantly, pulling at his mate’s wrist. Damian’s hand was red, milk falling over his skin in drops that raced to join the sink.

“Fuck that hurt!”

“I know, I’m sorry…” Jordan said, turning on the sink.

Cold water hissed over a boiling metal pitcher, and the werewolf turned up the temperature until it was only cool, before holding the neko’s hand under the flow.

“What were you doing?” he demanded, staring at a broken mug of coffee in the sink.

“Latte art. I wanted to surprise you two…” Damian muttered, his ears twitching.

“Oh.”

Jordan wasn’t sure how to respond to that. What was latte art? For that matter, what was a latte? His first instinct was to brush it off as a neko thing, but then, Damian had wanted him and Lysander to take part. It seemed to mean something to him.

“I’m assuming this was a failure then,” he frowned at the broken mug in the sink.

“Actually… only sort of?” Damian offered. “I think I was getting the rose. Until you scared the shit out of me.”

Jordan’s nose raised, taking a large sniff.

“Funny, I don’t smell any shit,” he said. “Dylan hasn’t made any… but we are about to be interrupted by a rather concerned elf.”

Right on cue, the door to their bedroom opened, Lysander hurrying out. The elf’s dark skin soaked up the light, his muscled body on full display, and both Damian and Jordan drank in hungry gulps of their mate.

“Is everything okay out here?”

“Yeah, just a burn,” Damian said quietly. “Jordan’s helping. If I could shift already, it would be faster.”

“Not really,” Lysander sighed, crossing the room to check on the burn.

The elf tsked quietly, vanishing from the room. He returned a moment later, with a hand towel and a bandage.

“Sander, it’s not that bad-” Damian frowned.

“Are you the one who took three years of extra health classes to become a paramedic?” Lysander asked. “Hush and let the doctor work. Then you get to have a prize.”

Damian gulped visibly, rough tongue running over dry lips.

“Does this prize involve some cream from a werewolf?”

“Not until tonight,” Jordan denied. “Sorry, but we have work in a few hours, and I need you level headed. It’s our first day back.”

The neko pouted quietly as Lysander placed the small bandage over the worst of the burn.

“Okay, now open wide,” the elf said, before placing a pill in Damian’s mouth. “Swallow.”

Damian did as he was told, dry swallowing the small tablet with a grimace. Lysander smiled, pressing a kiss against the neko’s lips.

“Good boy,” he praised.

“What was that?”

“Painkiller,” the elf shrugged, tossing out the wrappings from the bandage. “I’ll go ahead and get Dylan’s bottle ready; his five o’clock feeding is coming up.”

“Damian, you want to join me in the shower?” Jordan offered, picking the broken mug out of the sink.

The neko sucked in a quiet breath, looking contemplative.

“Hmm, I don’t know… I kind of had my heart set on a shower where I wasn’t being loved on by my mates, left alone to shiver in water as I cleaned myself for the day,” he teased with a smirk.

“Oh, well I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your loneliness,” Jordan shrugged. “I’ll go ahead and cook us breakfast-”

“On second thought, you’re showering with me. There is no way I am ever letting you touch my stove,” Damian said, pulling Jordan toward the bathroom.

Jordan sighed, shaking his head.

“You burn one fish…”

 

Their lips met tenderly, bodies pressing together in the shower as hands soaped down backs. Jordan could feel the purrs rumbling through his mate, an occurrence that was growing more and more common. He took it as a good sign; Damian was happy, and he was willing to show his happiness.

“So, you never told me what happened when you checked on the store earlier this week. Is everything okay there?” Damian asked quietly, his hands kneading Jordan’s ass firmly.

“Do you really expect me to answer that under duress?” Jordan murmured evasively, his own hands playing with Damian’s tail.

“Hey, you want me to stop, then you stop first,” the neko smirked,

Jordan’s hands lifted, the werewolf walking Damian back into the spray of water. The soap fled from their bodies as Damian’s ears folded.

“I wanted to surprise you with the store. And I can’t exactly surprise you if I tell you what’s going on with the store,” Jordan said.

“Does this have anything to do with the papers you had me sign yesterday?”

“Oh no, making you part owner was going to happen anyway,” Jordan shook his head quickly. “I’m not letting you quit that easily.”

“But I didn’t want to quit,” Damian said. “I like it there. Granted, the hours were a little long, but I think we might be able to hire some people to help us. Maybe other werewolves?”

Jordan hummed thoughtfully as he massaged Damian’s back. Fingers pressed into muscles, pausing as the door to the bathroom opened suddenly.

“Hey, you two should hurry up,” Lysander called. “There’s something you need to see on the news.”

Instantly, Jordan’s hands shut off the shower. He opened the curtain, shivering as cold air flowed in from the open door. Wrapping a towel around Damian, the werewolf dried himself vigorously, slipping his underwear on before hurrying out to the living room with his neko in tow.

The news was running on the tv, the same reporter standing in front of the royal palace amid hundreds of angry protesters.

“Again, King Finley has passed three new laws, to take effect on Varya. As you can see, there is heavy opposition; wolves of every kind have joined in protest here in front of Wolfsblood Palace, as the royal residence is being called. Prince Consort Zaddis is expected to give a speech to the people in an hour, whether in support of the laws or against remains to be seen. Such drastic measures against his own mate have made King Finley seem rather unstable, but many say he acts in the best interests of all involved with these measures.”

Jordan frowned in confusion, looking at Lysander.

“What laws are they talking about? That bullshit Alistar was spouting at the stadium?”

“You haven’t been following the news?” Lysander asked quietly, shaking his head. “Aerael, for people like us, being informed is important. King Finley just passed a law stating all werewolves must register on the day of their turning. Any caught in violation, a year from now, will be given a fine, and no less than thirty days in jail.”

“Is he insane? What about his mate? Everyone knows Zaddis is a fucking wolf, we’ve all seen him on runs!” Jordan snapped.

Lysander shrugged, turning his head toward Damian.

“Are you okay Kalael?”

Damian mirrored the shrug, his ears drooping.

“I mean… I wanted to be a wolf. Maybe it didn’t take?”

“We’ll stop trying then,” Lysander said, stepping toward the neko. “But I think it did take. You’re a little warmer than you were before we started. Are you still feeling pain in your arms?”

The neko nodded with a sigh.

“Kalael, we warned you about this. We gave you plenty of time to back out,” Lysander added quietly. “Turning into another race, another species, it’s not an easy thing.”

“I know. And… and I’m happy. It’s just… I’m less happy now.”

“I think we all are,” Jordan grunted, wrapping his arms around Damian. “But we’re both going to be by your side. You won’t be alone in this Damian. I swear.”

 

“Thayla will stand before the king tomorrow.”

Jordan grunted as he drove through the city. Damian frowned beside him, the neko glancing at the man uncertainly.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Probably not,” Jordan shrugged. “She’s a werewolf hater, and King Finley just showed us his true colours. I’m sure they’ll have a nice cup of tea and discuss the weather before he lets her off.”

“I heard Prince Consort Zaddis demanded to be present at the trial. Apparently Lord Vincent had troubles with the Silver Hand at one point,” Damian shrugged. “Even if he can’t get through King Finley’s thick skull, there’s no denying that Thayla is guilty of leading a group dedicated to murdering people. She already admitted to her guilt.”

“He’s the king Damian. If he wants to make our lives miserable, he can do it no problem,” Jordan sighed as they pulled into a car park. “All we can do is hope he’ll be fair in his judgment. Even then, she hasn’t killed anyone personally, at least that I know of. She’ll probably get ten years in prison, if that.”

The werewolf stepped out of the car with a sigh, closing the door firmly. He pulled out the keys to the store, waiting for Damian to join him at the entrance before opening it.

“Okay, I want you to close your eyes,” Jordan said, setting his hands on the neko’s shoulders.

“Why? Did you buy the place next door?”

“Miss Reyla did,” Jordan denied. “Just do it.”

Damian sighed quietly, before shutting his eyes. Jordan led him into the dark store, walking his mate through the missing wall between the stores. Setting the neko into a seat at a table, the werewolf hurried toward the back room of the book store, flicking on the lights.

“Okay, now open them,” the werewolf said, watching as Damian’s eyes opened.

Shock sprang onto his mate’s face, Damian staring around the small bakery in amazement. Bright colours worked with the dark walls of the book store, split evenly along the missing wall. A large display case held empty platters, a register sitting on a low counter. In the back of the bakery stood a fully furnished kitchen, several ovens waiting for use.

“What… what did… Jordan, did you…?”

“Actually, it was you who did this,” the werewolf smirked, setting a hand on his mate’s shoulder. “Miss Reyla liked your baking that much Damian. And now you can bake pastries and cookies for customers. And I can give them a nice book recommendation to go with their meal.”

“How long did you know about this? Is this why you told me not to come to work all week?” Damian demanded.

“Well yeah. I had to get this place set up for the master baker,” Jordan replied. “I hope it’s okay; I had Arisa and Claire helping me move things. Actually, Arisa suggested that she and Claire might help you bake, if you’re interested in the help.”

“This is amazing…” Damian breathed, tears leaking from his eyes. “I… I don’t de-”

“Damian, if you ever say you don’t deserve the world, I will edge you until the slightest breeze makes you moan,” Jordan interrupted. “You’re my mate. And you and Lysander both mean the world to me. More than that, you meant a lot to Miss Reyla. And she clearly thought you deserved a chance to do what you love.”

Damian rose from his seat, throwing his arms around Jordan.

“Gods bless it… I love you so much Jordan,” he whispered.

“I love you too Damian. Now come on. I want to see if I got the kitchen right for you.”

Copyright © 2019 Yeoldebard; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Those new laws sound a bit harsh. Great to see the guys enjoying themselves. The new bakery sounds like it will be awesome.

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Instantly thought of a Skyrim quote. "Empire loves their damned lists." Now we're seeing more of the overworld politics come into play, and it's not pretty. I wonder if we'll see a wolf pride movement... 

I'm so delighted to see the bakery finished! The bookstore is one of my favorite settings in this story and I'm happy to see its return. 

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Sounds like the King is looking for trouble. He may be making it for himself.

Nice to have the bakery about to be open.

One or two more chapters? But there will be a continuation or sequel? This story doesn't feel done! :)

 

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I do love eating, drinking coffee and reading a book.  I spent many fun times in Powell's City of Books, in Portland, OR.  The combo of the bakery and bookstore is always a great place to relax and enjoy reading.  I am sure the owners, staff and customers will enjoy being in this special place.

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