Chapter Thirteen

It is certain.

—Magic 8 Ball

 

RYAN WAS SORE and severely bruised the next day. He moved slowly through the house, holding on to the furniture or reluctantly to Thomas. Thomas tended to his wounds and kept him on a regular schedule with the over-the-counter pain medication on hand. Thomas had stayed quiet for most of the day but felt Ryan’s eyes on him and sensed the silent questions warring within him.

Give him time.

Thomas knew what Ryan needed in order to deal with the shock, his own emotions, and all of Thomas’s mistakes. Because Thomas realized now that was what they all were; nothing in the world should have kept him from Ryan. There was no excuse, and Thomas had been so wrong. And now, Wolf agreed, despite pack law. They had so much to make up for.

When Ryan was ready for an afternoon nap, Thomas explained he needed to meet with his pack and would return afterwards.

Ryan nodded and yawned before closing his eyes. “Promise me you’re coming back.”

“I swear it,” Thomas said, and he waited until Ryan was soundly asleep.

Thomas shifted outside and ran through the woods to the pack territory border. He sat and waited after howling for his father. It didn’t take long for Malcolm and two council members to arrive and escort Thomas back to the packhouse. Thomas shifted and dressed in the clothing he’d been provided. He followed the council to their formal chamber and took a seat. He would no longer stand or show them respect for what they had done.

“There has been a great misunderstanding,” Malcolm said.

“A hunter trying to kill my mate…and me,” Thomas said. “A council that preaches adherence to law but does not honor their own decrees? It is more than a misunderstanding, Father. By right, I could hold this entire council, and you, accountable for an attack on a protected mate. Hell, I could call for a Tribunal.”

Everyone present hissed at the word no one ever uttered.

Thomas ignored them since it was true. “But I am not here to war with you. I want to be left alone, myself and my mate. There is a treaty for the Steele land. Surely, this council will honor that. I will stay on Steele land as a Lone Wolf with my mate. We can maintain peace, and the treaty still stands, allowing passage through the land. But any Wolf intent on harming what is mine will be met with death as your law clearly states. My mate and I showed mercy to your hunter.”

His father nodded. “I don’t want you to disband from the pack Thomas. Will you reconsider and allow us to work through these differences? The council is divided. Some members support the treaty and decree, and others are opposed.”

“My mate is injured. The best course right now is time. Time for my mate to heal, time for winter to pass, and time for this council, in its entirety, to see we are not a threat. We just want to love and live in peace without fear of my kind causing us harm. We’ve both been through enough pain and suffering for one lifetime. I’m always open to negotiation as long as this council knows any further threats will close that door forever. Then, there will be nowhere on this earth any of you can hide from my wrath. I am the son of an Alpha.” Thomas stood taller. “And my Wolf is angry with you all.”

The council members remained quiet, and several nodded in understanding; there’d been serious insult made by the council. But two members glared at him in disgust. Thomas growled furiously at them.

“Enough,” Malcolm said. “For now, we will honor the Steele treaty and your decree. We’ll meet again at the first of Spring.”

“Agreed,” Thomas said and half bowed.

Thomas was provided with a bag of medical supplies and medication for his mate. Ryan would heal much faster with these, and for that, Thomas was grateful, at least to Grace. He then shifted and ran home, back to Ryan.

At the cabin, Thomas checked on Ryan quietly. He still slept. Thomas sorted through the medical supplies and followed the instructions Grace had written out for the medication. Thomas woke Ryan and made him take the medicine. Thomas also administered three shots into Ryan’s uninjured hip. He removed all Ryan’s bandages and treated the wounds with the salve Grace had sent, leaving the wounds uncovered at her direction.

“We have one hour for this to stay on. I’ll feed you, and then we have to wash it off,” Thomas said. He tried to help Ryan to the table, but Ryan swatted his hand away and made his way carefully into the kitchen.

“What happened?” Ryan asked.

“It didn’t go well. There are some things I can’t explain to you yet even though I want to. They made a huge mistake attacking you. That kind of thing isn’t tolerated. They’ve agreed to something like a truce until spring.”

Ryan listened as Thomas stoked the stove firebox and warmed up the rest of the stew.

“So you aren’t going back there until spring?” Ryan asked.

“No.” Thomas looked at Ryan. That was becoming a little easier. “No,” he said again, more softly. “Not without you with me.”

Ryan nodded once and then turned to gaze out the window, blinking several times. “I’m hungry,” he finally said.

Thomas smiled. “Such an avoider.”

“Nine years,” Ryan said coldly.

Thomas hung his head and focused on stirring the stew.

Patience, Wolf warned.

They ate when it was warmed, and then Thomas followed Ryan into the bathroom.

“What are you doing?” Ryan asked.

“Bathing you,” Thomas said, as if it were apparent, and motioned to the pool. “Bath time, big boy.”

Ryan grumbled but dropped his shorts and eased himself into the pool with one hand covering himself.

“Pfft,” Thomas snorted. “I’ve seen you so naked. Let’s see—jerking off naked, covered in mud naked, screaming and running from a snake naked…” Thomas trailed off, his smile fading. He bit his lip, looked up at the ceiling, and gave Ryan his privacy…for a moment. Then Thomas dropped his shorts, slipped into the water, and grinned at Ryan.

Ryan did not grin back. He scowled.

Thomas nodded. “Alright then, not ready to forgive yet,” he said, emphasizing yet. Thomas motioned for Ryan to go under, and he did. Then Thomas poured shampoo into his palm and stood in front of Ryan as he remained seated on the underwater ledge. With gentle fingers, Thomas worked the shampoo into a lather and scratched Ryan’s scalp as he washed his hair for him, while Ryan kept his eyes closed. Thomas guided Ryan’s forehead to his own chest so Thomas could wash and massage the back of Ryan’s scalp and neck.

Thomas smiled when a firm hand touched his hip and strong fingers pressed into his skin there as Ryan held on. He said nothing to chance Ryan pulling his hand away. Thomas worked quietly with the soap, lathering and washing the upper part of Ryan’s body. Thomas ran his soapy fingers over the long scar down Ryan’s back. It wasn’t that old, with a faint pink line down the middle. Ryan shuddered beneath his touch.

“This was bad,” Thomas whispered, and Ryan nodded against him. “I won’t miss this when it is gone. Or any of the other ones.”

When he needed the arm that gripped him, Thomas simply slid the other one onto his other hip, pulled the right one up, and washed Ryan’s fingers, hand, arm, and shoulder. He relished this opportunity to touch Ryan like this, to so intimately refamiliarize himself with every inch of the body belonging to the man he loved. Thomas ran his fingers over the smaller scar there, unable to imagine what Ryan had been through, torn between wanting to know and not wanting to spark his Wolf into a murderous spree with the knowledge. Thomas comforted himself, understanding that Ryan wouldn’t have any marred skin before long.

“So, what? They’ll just go away?” Ryan asked, his voice rough.

“Yes, they will.”

“I’m not ready to talk about that yet. But I’ll have questions.”

“Oh, I know, and you’re right—not now,” Thomas agreed. He had finished, and he told Ryan to go under and rinse.

Thomas quickly scrubbed his own hair and body, then rinsed off as Ryan finished bathing the rest of himself. When they were done, Thomas motioned to the little stool, and Ryan frowned at it. Thomas retrieved the chair from the bedroom, and Ryan sat there instead. They had towels around their waists as Thomas carefully and silently shaved Ryan’s face smooth again. Ryan’s eyes were on him.

“What?” Thomas whispered as he worked carefully.

“Just looking at you,” Ryan said.

“And?” Thomas asked with a little too much hope in his tone.

“Different,” Ryan said.

“You’re different, too, but I still see you, Ryan Tarkett,” Thomas said, placing his hand on his smooth cheek. “I see you, and you are still Ryan, and I am still Thomas.”

Ryan blinked several times. “You hurt me. I never thought that could happen.”

“Me either,” Thomas admitted. “And I will spend the rest of my life telling you I’m sorry until you can forgive me. I am so sorry, Ryan. I want to explain everything to you so badly, and I will, with their permission or without it. But with their approval, life will be much easier.” Thomas closed his eyes. “Not having their permission presents a slew of deadly problems I can’t explain right now. I don’t deserve it and shouldn’t ask it, but if you can, try to trust me on this.”

“We’ll see,” Ryan said and reached up to pull Thomas’s hand from his cheek. “Are you finished?”

“Yes,” Thomas said, slumping his shoulders.

Ryan got up and headed for the sink. He brushed his teeth while Thomas changed the sheets and blankets on the bed.

“Those weren’t dirty,” Ryan said.

“They were,” Thomas said. “They smell wrong.”

“Ah.” Ryan turned his face away from Thomas. He picked up the round black ball from the dresser as he leaned against it. Thomas finished wrestling with the fitted sheet.

Ryan shook the ball and asked it a silent question.

“Well? What did it say?” Thomas asked with a knowing grin on his face.

“It always says the same thing.” Ryan shook the ball again and flipped it over.

“That’s my Magic 8 Ball, yes?”

Ryan nodded.

“When I was around ten or eleven,” Thomas said, “I got tired of that thing always telling me what I didn’t want to hear. That year for Christmas, I asked everyone I knew to give me a Magic 8 Ball. I needed nineteen of them, you see.” Thomas smoothed out the flat sheet. “So, finally, I took them all apart, drained mine into a jar, and disassembled all of the dies. It took forever, but I sanded down all the sides of my die except the one I wanted.” Thomas waited as he spread out the clean blankets.

“‘It is certain,’” Ryan said and shook his head.

“Yes, and I even superglued my fingers together several times before it was all said and done.” Thomas waved a hand at the ball. “It will always tell you what I want to hear.” And Thomas smiled wide. “Pretty ingenious for a little kid, huh?”

Ryan shook his head, and Thomas could tell he was fighting a smile as he shook the ball again and examined the imperfect die a little closer, shook it again, and then rolled his eyes and sat it back down on the dresser where it clearly had “a place.” Thomas secretly smiled at that and then pointed to the bed.

Ryan pulled out a pair of pajama pants from the drawer.

Thomas snatched them, then turned away as he folded and put them away. “I won’t look, but the waistband could irritate your stitches. Go on, get in.”

Thomas was silent as the bed creaked as Ryan climbed in. He went to tend the fires, turn out the lights, and lock up. Then, he brought Ryan a fresh glass of water and slipped into a bed that smelled clean. Thomas squirmed around to get his scent on the bedding. He turned to his side, facing away from Ryan, and bit his lip while he waited.

“That won’t work,” Ryan grumbled.

Thomas stayed quiet.

Ryan sighed. “Sometimes, I hate how well I know you and how well you know me. It really isn’t fair.”

“Then why keep fighting it?” Thomas asked and quickly said, “Oh, yeah, because you’re still angry with me. And knowing you as well as I do, I know you need time to hold on to your grudge and work it out that you forgive me and aren’t mad anymore. For you to remember how much…” Thomas yawned.

“How much what?”

“I don’t remember what I was going to say now,” Thomas lied.

“Lie.” Ryan snorted.

Thomas shrugged one shoulder.

“Well, what would happen if I did consider forgiving you?” Ryan asked, and it was such a loaded question Thomas laughed a little.

“You mean what do you hope would happen?”

“That isn’t what I asked,” Ryan muttered.

“No, but it is what you meant. Why, Ryan, whatever you would want to happen. It’s all up to you. It always has been.”

“Well…” Ryan huffed. “Why are you over there when you’re supposed to be over here trying to get me to forgive you?”

“Do you want me next to you, then?” Thomas asked.

Ryan slowly rolled to his good side and grunted. Then, Thomas smiled when a firm hand reached back and pulled on his arm. Thomas rolled over. His eyes stung with fierce emotion as he snuggled up to Ryan and buried his face into his neck.

“Better?” Thomas breathed out.

Ryan moved until they were perfectly spooned and nodded. He dragged Thomas’s hand over his chest and pressed Thomas’s fingers flat there, leaving his own over them. After a few minutes, Ryan’s fingers slowly inched between Thomas’s until their hands were joined.

Mate, Wolf growled.

“Mate,” Thomas agreed.

“Arguing with your Wolf again?” Ryan asked.

“No, we agreed.” Thomas yawned again.

“And do I get a say?”

“No,” they both grumbled at the same time. But Thomas sighed and nodded against Ryan. “You get to decide if you choose us, but we will always choose you.”

“So if I didn’t agree, then what would happen?”

“We would be a Lone Wolf with no bonded mate, and we would turn feral.”

“You wouldn’t go off and find another mate instead?”

“Never,” Thomas answered. “And we never have. There has never been anyone but you. You are my soulmate, Ryan.”

“What do you mean by feral?”

Thomas sighed. “I can’t tell you exactly, so let’s see… Imagine a flock of geese migrating south for winter. You know how they all stick together and fly in a V in the sky? Imagine if one of those geese got lost and left behind. He couldn’t survive winter alone, just one goose by himself. He might start to go crazy, and eventually, he’d die from being alone and from not having the flock to help him survive. It’s something like that.”

“Your metaphors suck,” Ryan said.

“I know. See, still the same Thomas,” Thomas whispered and squeezed Ryan’s hand a little. “Wolves can’t be alone; they go crazy alright, then they die from the madness.”

Ryan was quiet for a while, but Thomas knew he wasn’t asleep yet.

“Alright,” Ryan said.

“Alright, what?”

“Alright, I’ll be your mate.”

Thomas was quiet with shock but began to smile.

“Now, what happens?” Ryan asked.

Thomas smiled harder. “Now, we need you to heal.”

“I’m still mad at you,” Ryan confirmed.

“Oh, don’t I know it, but that’s alright. You have every right to be, and I’m okay with that.”

“Mates.” Ryan snorted and then shook slightly with his familiar rumbling laughter.