Chapter Two
Shaun
Shaun was barely through the front door before Lawrence continued the rant he’d started outside the club. “That little harpy thinks she can get away with whatever she wants. Not to mention those two…”
Shaun tuned out the words Lawrence used to describe Rake and DJ. Whilst Lawrence directed most of his ire at Lynette for stepping in, the rest was aimed at Shaun’s wannabe saviours. Rake and DJ were misguided in their attempt to protect him, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how they’d made him feel.
Seen. They’d made him feelseen.
Shaun had grown used to being coveted for his appearance, but it was rare for anyone to scratch beneath the surface. When Rake and DJ had looked at him, Shaun could tell they’d seen more than anyone else had in a very long time.
“Are you listening to me?” Lawrence asked.
Shaun nodded, but stayed silent. He knew better than to interrupt Lawrence’s flow. He also knew that Lawrence didn’t actually care if Shaun listened. Lawrence just liked the sound of his own voice.
As Lawrence continued ranting about Lynette’s dearth of leadership skills, Shaun took his collar off and hung it on the hook where it lived when not around his neck, taunting him every time he passed it.
His mind strayed back to Rake and DJ. They’d caught his eye the previous time Lawrence dragged him to the club.
The couple had the kind of dynamic Shaun craved; one built on trust and care and love. Rake’s careful way with DJ—his precise movements when conducting a scene—stirred feelings in Shaun he’d thought himself incapable of.
The last time Shaun had seen them, Rake had tied DJ up in intricate shibari, the stark white rope standing out against DJ’s dark skin. DJ had seemed completely at ease, and got that glazed-over expression Shaun sometimes noticed in other subs’ eyes. By the time Rake stepped back to admire his handiwork, Shaun had been entranced.
DJ was a vision in white, his body contorted in a way that arched his back, with a single piece of rope between his teeth. It pulled his head back, showcasing the bliss on his face. He wore the ropes like his body had been built for the purpose of being tied; the indents in his flesh exquisitely accentuating his full figure.
The appreciation in Rake’s eyes was the true revelation, however. He had gazed at DJ withworship. As if by merely existing, DJ did Rake the biggest service. It was the sort of expression from a lover that Shaun could only dream of.
Lawrence snapped his fingers in front of Shaun’s face, dragging him back to the present. “I’m hungry, pet. Go procure me some food.”
Shaun blinked. “Your usual?”
“What else?” For a centenarian vampire, Lawrence sure enjoyed acting like a spoiled brat.
Shaun nodded and turned to leave.
“Those two are lucky I don’t have a taste for their types,” Lawrence said.
Shaun stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t meant to, but pure instinct drove him to react to the danger at his back.
“Oh, so that’s what finally caught your attention?”
Shaun turned around, unsure of what to say. Images ran through his mind of what Lawrence could do to the serious Dom and the kind sub, and he struggled not to react to the threat.
Lawrence repeated the same pattern of behaviour in every territory they stayed in; he’d play at civility until it no longer suited him, and then he’d move them somewhere new. Lynette seemed to enrage Lawrence on a deeper level than most of the other leaders. Shaun hadn’t yet figured out why.
However, Rake and DJ’s involvement might push Lawrence over the edge sooner than Shaun had anticipated.
Shaun had stopped caring what Lawrence did to him after the first few years. Existence was easier when he sleepwalked through his nights as Lawrence’s slave. Tonight was like Shaun had woken up from a long, deep sleep by having ice-cold water poured over him.
“Nothing to say?” Lawrence’s smirk had Shaun gritting his teeth to stop his fangs from dropping.
“They’re harmless,” he said, trying to keep his voice level.
“They stuck their noses where they didn’t belong.”
Shaun wouldn’t win the argument, so he chose distraction instead. “The sun’ll be up in a couple of hours. Do youwant food or not?” It was the closest he’d come to snapping at Lawrence in the past decade. He scuffed a toe against the rug, thinking about how pathetic he was if he couldn’t even look his creator in the eye when being mildly disagreeable.
“I suppose you better get a move on, or there will only be slim pickings.”
