“Just be your pet?”Marrick demanded.
Blaine didn’t seem to sense anything odd about Marrick’s tone of voice.He nodded as if that was a perfectly reasonable suggestion.“Yes.”
“No,” Marrick snapped.“Not going to happen.”
Blaine folded his arms across his chest.Marrick was pretty sure the guy wasn’t consciously trying to channel Arslan—but it was still a bloody good impression of the stance the older lion used on Luther and Blaine whenever they did something particularly bratty.
“Pets should listen to their masters.Arslan says—”
Marrick pulled himself to his feet.“One—I’ve never said I’m willing to be your pet.Two—you guys sure as hell aren’t my masters.And three—Arslan doesn’t know half as much about humans as you think he does.”
Blaine merely continued to stare down at Marrick as if he hadn’t spoken, or maybe as if he’d heard him, but since Marrick wasn’t a lion, nothing he said really mattered.
Luther put a calming hand on Marrick’s good shoulder.“The word’s not an insult.”
Marrick looked at him, then across to Blaine and back again.They weren’t trying to act like pillocks.Part of him knew that.They were just trying to look after him, just trying to wrap him safe in cotton wool.
He’d have liked them better if they’d wanted to whip him for taking such a bloody stupid tumble.He’d have rather they do that than flood his mind with memories of too many years spent in too many hospitals.
“It sure as hell sounds like an insult from where I’m standing.”
Worse even than that, they sounded just like the words his parents had used when they’d sat him down at seven years old and explained to him that—no, he couldn’t go out on his bike and play with the other boys.
Luther stroked his fingers over Marrick’s hair in a blatant attempt to calm him down.“You just need time to get used to your place in the pride.”
Marrick ducked his head and pulled away.“I’m not joining the pride—I’m staying with you guys for a few days while we’re hooking up.You understand that that’s different, right?”
Neither Blaine nor Luther made any comment.
”I never said anything about joining anyone,” Marrick rushed out.And he sure as hell hadn’t agreed to let anyone make him feel the way he had back in that bloody hospital.
“Arslan says that such agreements take time—that some dealings with humans can’t be rushed,” Luther said.
“I’m not negotiating a contract,” Marrick snapped.“I’m telling you that, unless you stop treating me as if I’m made of glass in the next few seconds, I’m out of here, permanently.”
Luther slipped his arm around Marrick.“Everything will be fine,” he whispered.
Blaine nodded his agreement.“Arslan says—”
Marrick took a deep calming breath; somehow, that only succeeded in making him feel more pissed off than ever.Squirming out of Luther’s embrace, he pushed him away as hard as could, setting off new flames in his shoulder.
Luther stumbled back a step, but more because he was surprised than because he couldn’t have held his ground if he’d wanted to.A human would have been slammed into the wall with the force of that shove.The fact they were no doubt right when they said they were much stronger than him didn’t make Marrick feel the least bit better about the situation.
It took all the strength he had left not to reach up and grab his shoulder and curse until the pain subsided, but somehow, he managed to stand there, perfectly still.He looked from one lion to the other and back again.They were both watching him, slightly warily, the same way sane people watched hysterical ones—pitying them and patronising them in the most annoying way possible.
“Arslan says—”
“You’re not screwing Arslan!”Marrick yelled.
Blaine and Luther both stopped short, staring at him as if he’d lost his mind.
“You’re not screwing Arslan; you’re screwing me,” Marrick repeated, only slightly more calmly.“I don’t use my family as an excuse when I want to get my own way—and you two need to learn how to bloody well speak for yourselves without quoting the guy as if he’s the font of all knowledge.”
Luther opened his mouth.He closed his mouth.
“And you need to stop treating me as if I’m some fragile little thing.”
“Humans are—” Luther began.
