The Mark of an Alpha (5 page)

Bennett took a deep breath and turned to close the door behind them, sealing them alone in the room together. Any vain hope that Marsdon had given up on his doubts were short lived.

"Did you know before today?” Marsdon asked, the moment the door clicked shut.

"Know what?” Bennett asked, retreating to the other side of the room as if putting space between them would actually make it easier for him to keep his sanity intact.

Marsdon chuckled. “Are you going to keep pretending we've never met forever?"

Bennett stared back across the room, forcing his expression to remain blank.

Marsdon's eyes narrowed. “I can understand why you wanted to play out the charade in front of the others, but I'll be damned if I'll let you play it while we are alone."

"Charade?” Bennett asked, as innocently as he could.

A growl started low in the back of Marsdon's throat. He stalked forward, closing the space between them without ever breaking eye contact. Bennett stared back at him, knowing that looking down could mean the end of all the equality that needed to exist between an alpha pair.

He'd been wrong when he thought Marsdon was testing him outside. Now that the patience Marsdon had evidently shown him while they were in company was tossed aside, he saw how careful the other wolf had actually been before. Now, Marsdon stepped straight into Bennett's personal space, staring him down. No subtlety, no restraint. He was once more in the presence of the wolf he'd belonged to in that club.

His new mate was only an inch taller than him, but he made the most of it. Bennett felt more like a pup crawling at his knee than the newly crowned alpha of his own pack.

Swallowing rapidly, Bennett tried to work some moisture into his throat so he could answer properly. “I played my part in the mating ceremony, nothing more,” he said. “There was no charade."

The growl came back, deeper, more menacing.

"If you wanted that to work on your mate, you shouldn't have agreed to be mated to an alpha,” Bennett told him, and promptly felt a pathetic surge of relief flood through his body at the simple fact his voice didn't crack when he said it.

Marsdon's lips morphed into a little smile. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with Bennett scent. “So much better than the cologne,” he whispered in Bennett's ear.

Bennett swallowed. “I don't know what you're talking about."

Marsdon snapped his teeth, just short of catching Bennett's ear between his canines as he leaned in closer to him. His erection pressed against Bennett's hip bone.

Bennett gasped. He would have pulled away, but Marsdon's smile twisted slightly, as if he was amused by his fear of being too close to his master. Bennett shifted his stance to cover the lapse and stood his ground.

"You are the only wolf I react this strongly to,” Marsdon whispered in his ear. He trailed his lips over Bennett's cheek as he spoke, just above where the leather hood had hidden half his face, as if Marsdon thought he needed to be reminded that he had nothing to hide behind now.

"If you are pleased with the man our parents chose to be your mate then—"

"Enough,” Marsdon snapped. “I may not have seen your face or breathed your scent before, but I knew who you were the moment I saw you. The moment I had to bite my tongue to keep from ordering you to your knees in front of everyone. The second I wanted to challenge every wolf who so much as shook your hand. The very instant I stopped hating this match, I knew who you were."

Bennett couldn't breathe. It was too much. Marsdon was too close, his presence surrounded Bennett, crushing the air out of his lungs. He pushed the other man away from him. “I have no idea what you're talking about."

Marsdon grabbed his shoulder as he tried to step past him. His fingers slid up towards his nape.

Bennett spun away from him, snapping at his fingers as panic spiked inside him.

"Show me the back of your neck."

"What?"

Marsdon stepped forward. “If you really want me to believe you're not who I know you are, show me the back of your neck."

He wasn't entirely sure. Bennett could see it in his eyes. He was ninety-nine percent sure—sure enough to act as if he were certain—but if he didn't see the mark on the back of his neck, he could never settle that one percent of doubt.

Bennett shook his head. “No.” That was the one thing that could never be allowed to happen.

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"Something to hide?” Marsdon asked as he stalked closer to his new mate. Bennett was his pup. His clothes might cover almost every inch of his skin, but he didn't need to see all of his body in order to recognise him. He had to be. There was no other explanation for it.

The other wolf took a step back. His shoulders hit the edge of a wardrobe. Bennett spun around as if to face another attacker. Marsdon launched himself across the room at him, all his patience with silly games thoroughly expended.

Bennett turned back to face him just in time to field the attack. They thudded to the floor, rolling on the thick wooden boards. Marsdon's knee collided with the edge of the bed—the one where they should have been ‘resting’ together to solidify the bond that should have started to grow between them when they took the mating vows.

Pain shot through him, but he kept his hold on Bennett. The darker wolf was strong, an even match for him. Marsdon rolled them over, pushing the other man onto his back. Their eyes met. Marsdon saw his mate's desperation. He didn't doubt that Bennett saw much the same look in his own eyes. He had to know. He had to be sure.

Bennett twisted, trying to throw him off. Marsdon held himself back and let his pup have a brief moment of freedom. His new mate rolled away, but the move was the slowest he'd made. He'd registered that his opponent wasn't fighting him. He looked back, concern filling his eyes, obviously believing Marsdon was hurt.

Marsdon took his chance. He lunged at his mate, pushing him face down on the floor. Bennett flailed and tried to buck him off, but his response was just a second too late. Marsdon straddled him, pinning him down with his weight on the small of his back as one of his hands slid into Bennett's hair to hold his head down.

His other fingers fumbled at the back of his neck. They brushed across a raised line of skin—a scar that perfectly matched the cross he'd cut into his own arm.

The fight seemed to drain out of Bennett in one huge rush. He lay limp and defeated under Marsdon's body. Marsdon cautiously gentled his hold on him, softening his grip until it became a caress. He ran his fingers through Bennett's hair, glorying in the complete certainty that his instincts had been correct and everything between him and Bennett was settled.

His mate's hair was long and shaggy now that it was free to tumble as it wished without the restriction of the hood. He'd known it would be black, like the other hairs on Bennett's body, but the need to bury his fingers in the strands and never let go was new. Marsdon leant forward and pressed a kiss to the back of Bennett's head. Nudging the hairs covering the scar aside, he pressed a kiss there too, wondering if he could coax that pleased little moan that he loved to hear from his mate.

There was no moan. “It means nothing."

Marsdon frowned. “What?"

"It means nothing,” Bennett said again. “The scar, the things we did in that room, none of that means anything."

Marsdon pulled away, more from the thought than the man, but his horror at the idea still gave Bennett room to squirm away from him.

"It means everything,” Marsdon snapped, completely unable to understand why anyone would ever say otherwise.

Bennett shuffled further away, until he sat leaning against the side of the bed, one knee pulled up in front of his body, as if to shield himself from further attack.

"My curiosity got the better of me,” Bennett said. “I thought playing silly human games would show me how the other wolves in the pack live their lives—what makes them happy. So, I tried it. It doesn't mean anything more than that, I wanted to know how the omegas feel—to know what they need from their alpha."

Marsdon stared across the room at him. Blue. He'd always wondered what his eyes would be like. They were blue, and intense, and perfect. But scared, so very, very scared.

"I was there,” Marsdon reminded his lover, trying to gentle his voice a fraction. “I may not have been able to look into your eyes while you wore that hood, but I saw what the nights we spent together meant to you. It wasn't just curiosity—not for either of us, pup."

"Don't call me that."

Marsdon moved closer to crouch down in front of him. Bennett tensed, but he stayed where he was.

"You used to like me calling you my pup,” Marsdon said. “You used to like calling your master sir."

Bennett turned his head away. “It was just a few stupid hours. I'm not going to let them ruin my whole life."

Marsdon threaded his fingers into his hair and jerked his mate back around to face him. Kneeling over him, he caught Bennett's face between his palms and tilted his head back to make the other wolf look him in the eye.

For a few seconds Bennett resisted, but then he met his eyes and held them. “I am an alpha."

Marsdon frowned. “I never said you weren't."

"Then treat me like one!” Bennett demanded.

Marsdon sat back on his heels, taking his hands away from Bennett's face. He stared down at him, trying to work out how the hell the happiest moment of his life could be going so horribly wrong. “You are an alpha. You are also my mate. There's nothing wrong with—"

Bennett turned away again. “What we did those nights wasn't just a mating."

"I know,” Marsdon agreed. “I've never felt that way when I was with another wolf."

Bennett swallowed, staring blankly past Marsdon. “It can never happen again,” he whispered.

"Of course it—"

"What sort of alpha crawls blindly towards the sound of a master's voice?” Bennett demanded.

"And you really believe I think less of you for doing that?"

"An alpha leads,” Bennett snapped. “He doesn't crawl. He doesn't accept another man as his master, or answer to being called a pup. I gave my word to our pack that I would be a good alpha. I intend to keep my word."

"You were happy,” Marsdon said, not sure who he thought needed reminding of that right then. “You were...at peace."

Bennett closed his eyes for a second, as if he wanted to deny it, but couldn't bring himself to do so. “An alpha puts his pack first,” he whispered. He swallowed. “Never again."

"I can't hear anything."

Marsdon jerked around to face the door.

"Maybe they're sleeping?” another voice said on the other side of the wood work.

"We are both very much awake,” Marsdon called back through. “What do you want?"

"The old packs have to leave soon,” a wolf called through the door. “If you wish to share the feast with them, then..."

Marsdon sighed. “Very well. You may tell them all that we're on our way."

Footsteps walked away from the bedroom door. Marsdon turned back to Bennett. For a long time, he couldn't bring himself to do more than stare at the other wolf. His mate didn't lower his gaze, but he didn't meet his eyes either. Apparently a small patch on the wall behind him was far more interesting than he was.

"We should get changed and go down."

"Yes,” Bennett agreed.

The word sir hung between them, begging to be spoken, begging to be heard, but ultimately remaining unsaid.

Marsdon held out his hand to help his mate to his feet. Bennett put his hand in his with only the briefest hesitation. But, when he levered himself up off the floor, none of his weight, none of his trust, rested in Marsdon's hand. He still didn't look his mate in the eye.

Their clothes had been laid out on an ottoman at the base of the bed. Bennett walked across and picked his up without a word. He turned his back on Marsdon as he pulled his shirt over his head.

Marsdon didn't rush towards his own clothes. He let his eyes feast on Bennett's skin as the thin white cotton from the mating ceremony was folded and set aside. The muscles along his shoulders flexed with every movement, but they didn't tense until after he had fallen still. He'd tensed that way when he was wearing the hood too—when he knew he was being watched.

Back in the club there had been little he could do about that. Bound and offering himself to Marsdon, inviting his master to do with him as he pleased, a complaint that Marsdon was staring at him would have seemed crazy.

As he gazed at his mate's back, Marsdon felt a prickle of unease run down his own spine. He'd had the right to do whatever he wanted with Bennett because his pup had given him that right. If Bennett chose to change the rules now, then...

A frown grew between Marsdon's eyebrows. Bennett looked over his shoulder just in time to see it. His right arm twitched, as if he was about to reach out.

No, Marsdon realised a second later, not reach out—as if he would have reached back towards his neck.

"I put the mark there so no one else would be able to see it unless you wanted them to,” Marsdon told him. A secret little thing that no one else would ever know about. A little bit of his lover that would always be his alone.

Bennett turned away. His hand clenched into a fist as he made an obvious effort not to reach up and touch the cross Marsdon had cut into his skin.

"You put it there so I couldn't ask anyone to kiss me there again,” Bennett said.

"Yes. That too.” Marsdon wasn't about to apologise for it, his own hand had already clenched into a fist at the idea anyone else's lips could ever touch his mate.

He saw Bennett's throat move as he swallowed several times in quick succession.

"And you never asked me,” Marsdon reminded him.

"What?"

"You never asked me to kiss you there. You never needed to.” His pup had never needed to ask for anything—not when Marsdon was willing to spend so many of the hours they spent in the club, studying his body for little hints and tells his lover couldn't hide—just so he could work out what Bennett needed from him without his pup ever having to ask him for it.