Chapter 7 - Mik (Part 1)

After that prick alpha left, Mikwam found himself alone. For how long, he wasn’t sure; he couldn’t see the clock on the wall, but it felt like hours. His body ached due to being strapped down and unable to move for such a length of time. His muscles protested. Various parts of his body screamed to be scratched and with no relief.

The old hag was the only one to come in and break the silence. She asked if he’d like a drink but he clamped his mouth shut and stared right ahead. She left the cup at his bedside, as if he could help himself. Bitch.

The isolation gave him time to think.

They were right. Dammit!

He hated that his bond with Sam was the only reason he was still alive. However, if he was going to get through his current predicament, he had better smarten up—and that meant treating that male better. He wasn’t going to be released from the binds if he kept lashing out at everyone he came into contact with.

It was maddening.

When Sam returned, he brought with him the heavenly scent Mik first encountered when he woke up and found himself in the infirmary. The clean, untainted scent of his mate was an unprecedented relief. And when Sam brought him food and water, he studied him closely. He could feel his lips constantly burning with his stare. At first, it made Mik’s stomach churn but that ebbed as he ate and the acid sloshing around his empty gut disappeared, filled with nourishment.

The gentleness in Sam’s movements was something Mik hadn’t witness in years. Gentleness wasn’t a strength, his father had told him. An alpha had to be strong, fierce, and unyielding. No one would respect a weak alpha.

But Sam held his full and undivided attention with his gentleness. He was bashful and for some sickening reason, Mik found it cute.

Sam wanted to try. Sam would’ve cried if he died. Even though Mik was brash and ruthless, Sam was willing to try because they were mates.

How cruel and twisted the Goddess was.

Sam deserved a better mate than him.

There was a sea of pain and darkness swimming in the depths of those blue eyes of his. The few times Sam dared to meet his gaze, Mik would have choked on his food if he had swallowed. The curse of the bond slapped him in the face and each time Sam looked away before Mik did, his heart beat fast in his chest. The punk even got aroused before he made a mad dash to escape.

Disgusting.

Sure, Mik thought himself to be an attractive male—attractive enough even for other males—but the slightest hint of Sam’s lust toward him sparked within Mik himself—and that disgusted him.

It shouldn’t, he knew, because Sam was his soulmate, but it did nonetheless.

He wasn’t attracted to the younger male. Not in the slightest.

Except for his eyes.

Dammit.

When Sam returned, he was all red in the face and flustered. Any hint of his arousal before was washed away. He stood by the door, shifting his weight from foot to foot. The fringe of his hair, that was longer in the front, blocked his face as he hung his head, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

Why was he just standing there?

“Um,” he finally spoke up, “d-do you mind if I sleep here tonight?”

“Yes, I do mind,” Mik replied. “I’m strapped down to a bed. Can’t eat or drink for myself. I’m assuming I’m hooked up to a catheter as I have no urge to piss. Unfortunately for me, whether I like you or not, I need you at my side right now.”

Pulling his hands out of his pockets, Sam held himself. Anxiety seeped out, tainting his pleasing scent.

“And your scent is pleasant.”

As much as Mik hated to admit it, Sam’s scent, when he wasn’t scared or anxious, was fucking amazing. If he closed his eyes and focused on his smell alone, he immediately relaxed and was soothed by it. It warmed him, comforted him in a way he hadn’t felt before. At the same time, he wanted to hold the source of the smell and press his nose into it. Cradle it close to his heart, rub his cheek against it, nuzzle it, nurture it, and never let it go.

All of these feelings were foreign to him. They went against his nature. He didn’t cradle others. He didn’t rub his nose and cheek against others. Females did that. Males fought for dominance. They didn’t nurture others.

He always anticipated his mate to be a strong-willed female; one who would challenge him but never question his dominance over her because she would know, understand, and respect the undeniable fact that he would always be stronger than her, always dominate over her, but in the end, he would provide for her and die protecting her.

This male before him... He wasn’t any of that. He couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“I... Before... I thought you said... I stink...”

His voice was soft as a mouse. Like little tiny claws along the wooden floors, his voice tapped against his spine.

“You did. You reeked. But you showered since then and now I can really smell you. Your true, untainted scent...”

Sam’s anxiety lifted a little and Mik couldn’t help but inhale deeply.

Shit. Why did he have to smell so damn good?

“I like your smell too,” Sam mumbled, rubbing his arms.

He lifted his head a little, enough to look at Mik on the bed but not enough to meet his gaze. The hairs on Mik’s arms and legs stood where Sam’s eyes lingered.

He must have noticed, as he asked, “Are you cold?”

“No.”

Sam looked away. “Can I get you anything else then?”

“No.”

Mik was itchy, but he bit his lip and refused to ask for assistance.

Instead, he asked, “Can you lower my bed a bit? Like halfway down or something?” The straps and chains were digging into him.

Sam nodded and stepped up to lower the bed before he sat down on his own next to Mik’s.

Mik stared at the corner of the wall straight ahead. He felt cornered. He didn’t like it. What to do now? How to fill the time with this male by his side? How could he reclaim his inheritance with this male as his mate?

He closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. Why couldn’t his mate be female?

He ran over the plan in his head again while Sam sat in awkward silence next to him.

He still couldn’t see himself leading a pack with a male at his side. Hell, he couldn’t see himself living alongside a male, never mind do anything intimate with him.

“Ugh.” He gagged at the thought.

“What? What’s wrong?” Sam jumped to his side and was leaning over him with concern.

Shit. The guy didn’t deserve to have a mate like him. He couldn’t make Sam happy.

Mik closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to face those robin’s egg blues. “Water.”

“Do you need to sit up more?”

“No.”

The tip of the straw poked against the corner of his mouth and he parted his lips. He took a few sips, willing his thoughts not to return to that disgusting place. Instead, he called forth memories of his father punishing him to set him straight.

Callous fingers curled around his neck. Tips of claws pressed into his tender flesh. He yanked him from behind and flung him across the room. Mik’s small form struck the wall with a loud smack as his father roared in rage.

‘Get out!’

Mik cried out in pain. Before he could move, his father was on him, his hand wrapped around his throat again. Black eyes burned into Mik’s soul as tears poured down his face. Fear pounded erratically within his chest as he gasped for air under his father’s harsh grip.

‘What have I told you?’ he demanded.

Unable to respond, unable to even breathe, Mik could only gasp as he struggled against his father’s might.

’Don’t ever come in here! Don’t ever touch her things! Ever! Do I make myself clear?′

Thrown out of the room—his mother’s room—he ran away as fast as his little legs would carry him. His mother’s handkerchief tucked into his pocket. Her scent still lingered on the dainty piece of cloth that he soiled with his tears in the bushes outside as he rubbed his cheek against it, begging for her to come back home.

“Are you okay?”

Sam’s voice brought him back to the present. He unfurled his fists. Relaxed his muscles. Inhaled air into his constricted chest. An invisible hand still wound tightly around his throat.

“Fine.”

“Did you bite your tongue?”

“What the—how the fuck do you do that drinking water?” he snapped.

Sam shrugged, curling into himself as he pulled away and set the cup on the table. “I don’t know. You looked like you were in pain for a second.”

“Life’s a bitch and then you die.”

Sam frowned. “That’s... that’s kind of a defeatist attitude, don’t you think?”

Mik smirked. “She can fuck me over again and again but in the end, I’ll be the one bending her over and fucking her from behind. I will rule my life and make her my bitch.”

Just like I fucked all those rogue bitches. His dick twitched with the fleeting memories as his smirk broadened in a grin.

Sam’s face screwed up in confusion as he looked away. “Um... okay.”

With Sam’s back to him as he returned to his bed, Mik closed his eyes and licked his lips, thinking about the red-head he rutted a few months back. Damn, that bitch was sexy. Her wolf was a gorgeous copper color as well, but fucking was far more enjoyable in human form. Three weeks was all she could take with him. But damn, she was a good fuck. Best one he’d had since he started fucking around in his early teens.

Sam inhaled deeply. “Are you...?”

He inhaled audibly again as Mik cracked open an eye and peeked at him. Sam’s eyes darted to Mik’s arousal swelling under the hospital gown between the straps before tearing them away. His face heated up as he looked at the door and back at the floor.

“Um, I... D-Do you... um...”

Mik closed his eyes and pushed the memory of the red-head out. No use giving himself blue-balls when he can’t give himself a hand. And he sure as hell wasn’t letting that male anywhere near his maleness. Just the thought of it made the blood drain out and the thing to fall limp.

“Go to bed.”

“O-Okay.” Blushing feverishly, Sam complied and crawled into his bed, pulling the blanket over his head as he exhaled in relief.

There was something different about Sam’s scent when he began to get aroused. It didn’t sweeten the way females sweetened, but the musk was intriguing to him.

Sam buried the faint musk under the blanket for a few minutes before popping his head out and heaving a sigh. He didn’t utter a word and his scent mixed between mild anxiety, curiosity, and embarrassment. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep and Mik was granted a moment to study the male in a peaceful state.

He was such a soft-looking male. Pure like a pup. Untouched by trauma and abuse. He looked as though he had never been struck across the face. His flesh had never been punctured by the bite of a claw or teeth. Innocent. Naive. Gullible.

He would be easy to fool. Easy to mold. Easy to break.

You should leave as soon as you can, he told himself. You won’t be able to beat Noodin right now. He’s far too powerful. You need to leave and train for a few more years. It will hurt Sam, but you’ll only hurt him more by staying with him.

Closing his eyes, he turned away and heaved a sigh.

He couldn’t be the mate Sam needed.

It was better this way.