The Defiant Claim (The Claim: Book 2) LGBT

Chapter 9 - Mik

Mik didn't know what to do. His situation was out of his control and the only way he could regain some semblance of control was to give in to the demands of that monster. Biding his time and rebuilding his strength was his only option for now.

So he had to bite back his pride and submit.

Fuck!

Once the bindings were removed along with the catheter, he could breathe again.

And his mate—that male—stank. First of pungent anxiety and then later of arousal.

The stink of his arousal wasn't too bad—but it made Mik sick. Just the thought of that male getting a hard-on and touching him...

Sam's clean smell was much more tolerable. Pleasant even, as much as he wouldn't like to admit it. He refused to even admit to himself that by closing his eyes and inhaling Sam's clean scent, he felt comforted and at peace. A part of him wanted to hold fast to the one carrying that scent. Press his nose into the crook of the neck and call it "his."

But he couldn't.

He had to keep that male at a distance, lest Sam get the wrong idea that he stood a chance at a future with Mik as a mate.

After helping Mik back into his bed, Sam left to take a shower, leaving Mik alone with his thoughts.

What would he do with Sam? How could he keep Sam at bay? How would the matebond twist his feelings toward that male? How could he resist giving in to the pull?

His father told him about the matebond. How crazy it made his father feel when he first found his mother. How he wanted to mate, mark, and claim her immediately, but his mother was fierce and put him in his place and made him earn the right to claim her forever. He loved her intensely for it, even though their courtship was brief.

His father would only talk about her when he stank of alcohol and was reminiscing. Otherwise, Mik steered clear of him because alcohol always made his claws and teeth come out.

He didn't know what his mother looked like. He was two when she died and his father stored all her things, all pictures of her, in a separate room and refused to let him into it. When he did, his father made a point not to step foot into it again.

Mik did anyway. And each time, he emerged black and blue.

Looking up at the ceiling, he searched his memory for framed pictures of her on the wall and dresser but he was often too small to get a good view of her.

He only remembered her long blond hair, like his own. And a baby-blue sundress with little white flowers stitched into it.

"Is this better?"

Looking down, Mik was greeted by Sam's shy smile as he approached the bed in comfortable clothes.

Drawing the air into his lungs, Mik closed his eyes and relaxed into the bed. A blurred figure with blond hair and a blue sundress swayed in his mind before fading to black.

"Yes," Mik murmured, opening his eyes. "Thank you."

"So, I was thinking..." Sam trailed off, biting his lower lip, "you've been cooped up in here for a while. Would you like to step outside for a bit? I mean, get in a wheelchair and let me take you out?" He blushed. "You know, just for a change of scenery. Get some fresh air. It's nice out."

Sam looked like he could use a bit of sun. His skin was unusually pale for a wolf, making his blush that much redder.

Mik didn't want to be seen in this state—with a broken arm and leg. He was pathetic. "Is it private?"