The Mark of an Alpha (7 page)

"You're obviously exhausted,” Marsdon excused. “If you've slept as little as I have over the last nights, it's little wonder."

Bennett stared past him, apparently not even willing to echo his admission in case it would be taken as a sign of weakness, a sign of not being a true alpha.

Marsdon hesitated, not sure what he could ask of his mate right then, not sure how to ask rather than order. He'd always imagined it would be easy. That the traditions they had to follow were the only thing keeping them apart. That perfection was right there waiting for them, if only traditions could be swept aside.

He stared at his mate, wondering if there were some magic words that would have his pup wriggling over to his side of his bed to curl up close in his master's arms.

"If you would wish to rest closer to your mate, I would welcome it,” he said softly. “But I don't demand it."

His mate swallowed, but that was it. Even after Marsdon turned off the lights and let silence settle over the room, Bennett made no move to close the gap between them.

[Back to Table of Contents]

"I wondered where you were hiding."

Bennett spun around at the sound of his mate's voice. “I'm not hiding!” He wasn't. The barn needed to be sorted out so they could decide what was to be done with the space. Just because he had chosen to find a job that involved him being on his own away from the other wolves for a while didn't mean he was hiding from anyone.

Marsdon's smile faltered. He stopped several yards away from him, apparently deciding he didn't want to be closer to his mate than that, right then. “It wasn't an accusation."

Bennett held back a sigh. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Marsdon was quick to offer him a forgiving smile. “It's okay, pup."

The smile only reminded him that Marsdon had already had to forgive him for a lot of things—things an alpha should never have to forgive in a mate. The pet name only made Bennett's shoulders knot with further tension.

"I asked you not to call me that,” he reminded his mate for what felt like the millionth time.

"Everyone else is back in the house. It's just us, now."

Bennett shook his head wondering why Marsdon couldn't understand that privacy didn't make it okay for him to tempt him with everything he'd had to give up in order to take his rightful place as an alpha of his own pack.

He picked up one of the boxes of junk he'd accumulated as he tried to put the barn in some sort of order. Placing it on top of a pile of similarly filled boxes, he gave the simple task his complete attention. A piece of old rusty metal stuck out of the top of the box. He'd damn near sliced his boot and his foot open on it before he found it mixed in with a pile of old hay.

Bennett stared at the jagged edge, remembering another piece of metal slicing the skin at the back of his neck. Perhaps if he hadn't been foolish enough to ask for a mark, he would have been able to convince his master he wasn't the man from the club.

He turned and picked up another box of odds and ends, quick to leap on any excuse to keep his back to the man he'd called master for so many nights. It didn't really help. He'd spent so long hooded in the other wolf's presence, he was used to tracking his movements blind. He felt the change in the air as Marsdon stepped closer behind him.

"You've been working hard."

Bennett ignored him, not sure what he could say without reverting to the role of a pup who was pleased he'd pleased his master. He lifted the box over his head to put it on top of the pile.

"Pup—"

Bennett jerked away from his task, spinning around to face his master, only to be stopped short. “Don't—ow! Damn!"

Bennett tugged at his sleeve. It remained firmly caught on the old piece of iron from the first box.

"Stay still!"

Another order from his master was the last thing he needed right then. He tugged at the sleeve and succeeded in stabbing himself in the wrist with the remains of the tool and almost bringing the boxes crashing down around him in the process.

Marsdon's hand wrapped around his wrist. His other hand steadied the boxes. “Stay still,” he repeated.

He was right up close behind him, pressed against Bennett's back so he could reach around his body and keep a firm grip on his wrist and support the boxes at the same time.

"I can't release you if you keep wriggling,” his master said, as if explaining the situation to a real pup, too young to realise such things on his own.

"I can do it myself,” Bennett said. He always took himself out of the bondage in the club—his master had only ever needed to undo one hand before he left. His other hand was free. His master was gone. Bennett didn't need the other wolf's help.

Marsdon sighed, and caught hold of his other wrist too. Bennett froze in his hold as memories he'd tried to push away came flooding back, memories of those hours before Marsdon had released him from his bondage. There were times since he walked out of that club for the last time when he would have sold his soul to feel Marsdon holding him in place that way.

"Unless you're going to grow another arm in the next few minutes, stop acting like an fool and stay still,” Marsdon ordered. “Let your mate help you."

Bennett nodded, not trusting himself to avoid the word sir if he said anything at all right then.

His master didn't make him wait, he didn't go out of his way to remind him that he'd put himself in that sort of vulnerable position dozens of times over the weeks and months he'd visited the club. His mate unhooked him from the metal and turned him around.

Bennett glanced down. There was a hole in his sleeve, a slight scrape on his skin underneath it. It was nothing, but it was a convenient excuse to keep his eyes lowered for a few moments without feeling as if he was betraying every scrap of faith that his family and his new pack had placed in him.

Marsdon took hold of his wrist again. Bennett automatically tried to pull away, but he was backed up against the boxes. Marsdon's hand tightened around his skin, keeping him where he was. He took his time examining the scrape.

"It's nothing,” Bennett said.

"You should be more careful."

Bennett met his eyes. If he hadn't been thinking about Marsdon rather than what he was doing, he wouldn't have made such a silly mistake. If he hadn't been more focused on not being a pup than he was on taking care of his duties as an alpha then—

"I was always careful with you,” Marsdon reminded him, very softly.

Bennett's hand clenched into a tight fist within Marsdon's hold. “I never asked you to be."

"Just like Talbot never asked you to be as gentle as you are with him?"

Bennett felt the blood drain out of his face. He met his mate's eyes and saw the moment when Marsdon realised what he'd just said.

"That's not what I meant—” his mate began, as if there was anything that could take those words back.

"It is exactly what you meant,” Bennett growled. “An omega never needs to ask for an alpha's care—it's given as a matter of course. Isn't it?"

"That's the way you care for Talbot, yes."

Bennett snatched his hand back, tearing his wrist out of the other man's grip as he stepped past him and strode into the middle of the barn, needing space.

"Wolves in the same pack care for each other,” Marsdon went on. “Mates care for each other. I was speaking about you as a mate, nothing else."

Bennett said nothing.

"I've never said you are anything other than an alpha."

Bennett grabbed an old fence post and tossed it towards the others he'd laid tidily in one corner of the barn. The neat little pile collapsed, unable to withstand the additional pressure. Bennett couldn't bring himself to feel surprised.

"Are you listening?” Marsdon demanded.

"No,” Bennett lied—as if he was capable of ignoring Marsdon.

Marsdon caught him by the shoulder and spun him around, making him face him. Bennett flung his touch away. His master stood very still as Bennett started to pace around him, anger at himself and everything around him making it impossible for him to stand still and simply face the other wolf the way he knew an alpha should.

"I was talking about the care a mate has for his mate,” Marsdon repeated.

Bennett shook his head, brushing all that nonsense aside.

"What did you think I was?” he demanded. “In the club—tell me what you thought I was."

"I knew you were a wolf."

Bennett pushed his master back against the barn wall, suddenly unable to take it anymore. “Don't play silly games with me. Answer the question."

"I thought you were an omega."

It was what Bennett had been pushing him to say from the start. And now he'd said it. Bennett stared at the wall behind Marsdon's shoulder for a long time before he summoned the control he needed in order to step back from his mate, releasing him from his hold.

Marsdon stayed leaning against the wall, as if he'd chosen to be there from the start.

"And you still wonder why I won't go back to that?” Bennett asked.

"You asked what I thought you were then, not what I think you are now."

Bennett stood in the middle of the room, staring across at his master, unable to meet his gaze, unable to lower his eyes. He had to swallow before he could trust his voice to come out clear and strong—the way an alpha's voice should sound. “I meant what I said before. What happened there will never happen again. You'll never have cause to regret accepting me in spite of this."

"And you think that's what I did—that I accepted you
in spite
of what happened in the club?” Marsdon asked. His gaze narrowed. He looked as pissed off as hell.

"I know you suspected who I was before the mating,” Bennett said. “You had every right to call it off."

Marsdon shook his head, but Bennett knew it was true.

"The scar was all the proof you needed."

"And what does this scar prove?” Marsdon asked, rolling back his shirt sleeve.

Bennett turned his face away.

"Pup?"

Bennett pushed his hair back out of his face. He was just so tired of it all. Tired of the lies. Tired of the truth.

"Pup?” his master pushed again.

"It means nothing,” Bennett whispered.

"No. That's not true, is it?"

Bennett took a deep breath and let it out. “We're talking in circles. There's no point. We just need to forget anything that happened before the mating ceremony.” If they could just pretend that none of it had ever happened. If they could start again from scratch. If Marsdon would just pretend that there was no reason for anyone to think that he was anything less than the alpha he would act like from now on...

"I don't want to forget."

Bennett rubbed the scar on the back of his neck. Back then, he'd never wanted to forget either.

"I remember all of it,” Marsdon said. “Every detail. Every moment we spent together."

Bennett shook his head. “Leave it be.” It was more a pup's plea than an alpha's order, but anything that would stop his master from dredging up every single memory of all that he had lost would be worth it.

"I remember the first night I saw you tied up and waiting for me,” Marsdon began.

And it really sounded like he intended to go through every detail of every night they'd spent in that club. That couldn't happen.

"The first time you saw me tied up, I didn't even know you existed,” Bennett threw at him. “I wasn't waiting for
you
—anyone would have done. I remember that."

"Bennett,” Marsdon warned, as if he suddenly had a right to complain at being reminded of a detail he would rather forget.

Warnings be damned. “I remember going to that club, putting the hood on and telling the human behind the desk that I would accept
anyone
,” Bennett said, relishing their positions being reversed for once,

Marsdon shook his head, a growl starting to rumble in the back of his throat.

"Anyone capable of throwing around a few orders while he screwed me would have done,” Bennett bit out.

"You don't mean that,” Marsdon said—slotting each word into the sentence very carefully, as if it required every bit of his control to say them calmly.

"And you'd know, would you?” Bennett taunted.

"Yes!” Marsdon snapped. “I'd know, pup. Just like I know you're lying when you tell your master that you didn't love every minute you spent obeying his orders. Just like I know you still want it."

Bennett shook his head, as if it would ever be that easy to deny it all.

"I didn't pick you,” he growled. “I didn't even see your face until yesterday. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't special. You could have been anyone."

"Maybe the first time. Maybe,” Marsdon allowed. “But once I laid a hand on you, you were mine. You couldn't have submitted to anyone but your master after that."

Bennett opened his mouth.
I did. I submitted to dozens of other men.
But the words wouldn't come, he couldn't force them past his lips. He couldn't lie to his master.

Marsdon stared across the barn at his mate. He seemed far more like a stranger now than he did that first night he laid eyes on him.

"I never met anyone else at the club,” Marsdon offered. “I never took control of anyone else. I never wanted to once I met you."

Bennett still seemed unable to make the same admission. Marsdon pushed down his temper. He knew Bennett hadn't submitted to anyone else. He just wanted to hear him say it.

Marsdon closed his eyes for a second and reminded himself that what he wanted wasn't important right then. And he didn't truly
need
to hear him say it to know it was true anyway. There were so many things he hadn't had to hear Bennett say out loud to know what the silent truth was.

"You were stunning,” he whispered.

Bennett met his eyes for a moment. Marsdon wouldn't have wished away the right to look into those eyes for the world, but he still couldn't stop his mind rushing back to that first night, way back before he had ever been able to see his whole face.

Stretched out on a St. Andrew's cross, naked but for that damn hood, Bennett had been glorious. Marsdon wasn't lying when he said he remembered every detail. He remembered standing in the doorway with one of the humans who worked at the club as if it happened minutes rather than months ago.