The Defiant Claim - The Claim: Book 2 [LGBTQ+]
Chapter 6 - Sam (Part 2)

His lungs expanded with a deep breath in and out before he stepped into his mate’s room.

“Dim the lights, will ya?” was his greeting. “And get me a drink of water. I don’t trust that old hag to not lace my water with something.”

Sam noticed the untouched cup of water resting on the table next to his mate as he flicked one of the two light switches off.

“Thanks,” was his mumbled reply before Sam slipped back out the door.

He paused briefly as he leaned against the wooden barrier. That was the first nice thing his mate had said to him.

His heart did a little dance as he smiled to himself and lowered his head as he walked across the infirmary to the water dispenser behind the front desk. Eloise was off for the night and someone else was there in her place, staring at her phone and not paying Sam any attention. He fetched two glasses of water (one for himself) and returned to the privacy of the back room.

“Release me.”

His mate was still strapped to the bed. Sam set the cups down on the table and pressed the button on the side of the bed to lift the upper half into a sitting position. As his mate rose up, he said, “Sorry, can’t. The chains are locked and only Alpha has the key.”

Mik grumbled, eying the bendy straw Sam put in his cup as Sam lifted the cup to his face.

Guiding the tip of it to his mate’s dry and cracking lips, Sam couldn’t help staring at them beneath the beard as he sipped the water. He could feel his mate’s gaze burn into the flesh of his face, searing over his eyelids, his brows, down his nose to his own lips. Sam swallowed before the heat vanished from his dilating pores.

Mik parted his lips and sighed in relief, half the water gone from his cup. “Thank you. That’s enough for now.”

A second word of thanks. Did Sam hear him correctly?

“You’re welcome.” His voice shook a little, but at least his hands were steady with the cup as he set it down on the bedside table.

“How old are you?”

Good Goddess! He wanted to have a civil conversation and get to know him now? Why the sudden change?

Clearing his throat, Sam felt shy as he withdrew and sat down on his bed, staring at his hands in his lap. “Eighteen. You?”

“Twenty-two.” Mik heaved a sigh. “Not good enough.”

Sam waited for him to say more and when he didn’t, he hesitantly asked, “For what?”

“To be alpha. I thought I was ready.” He huffed. “I got taken down by a damn warrior. Fucking disgrace.”

Sam chewed on his bottom lip. Any other time and he would have said, ‘There’s always next time.’ But this was his best friend and alpha his mate was attempting to overthrow. He owed his life to them.

“It could be worse,” Sam mumbled, tucking his hands under his thighs to grip the mattress. “You could be dead.”

Knots formed in Sam’s stomach. Everything was so messed up. He wasn’t sure what the future held for him and his mate. What did the Goddess have in mind when She created them for each other?

“Would you have cried for me?”

Memories of Sam begging Alpha Noodin for mercy filled his mind, screaming as tears poured down his face. Of Cameron’s wolf breaking the bones of Mik’s as he shrieked in agony with Sam helplessly spewing his guts at the torturous horror unraveling before him.

The memories prickled the back of Sam’s eyes as he tried to blink them back. His throat constricted. Unable to speak, he gave his head a little nod.

Despite his mate not yielding to his call and pushing him vehemently away, he would still cry for him. He would still ache for him. He would still yearn for him, even if he wasn’t worth all the pain of heartache and rejection.

He dreamed of his mate the last few years, believing she would be the only one to love him for who he was—defects and all. He never expected his mate to be male and to reject him for also being male. Same-sex mates were very rare and he knew nothing about them or how they lived.

As if reading his mind, Mik asked, “Do you prefer males over females?”

“I hadn’t thought about it much,” he confessed in a soft voice. “Of course, I thought my mate would be female. I just...”

He trailed off, not wanting to confess more. It would only make him sound more pathetic.

“I wasn’t expecting my mate to be male either. I don’t know what to make of it. I’m not attracted to males.”

Mik’s admittance didn’t surprise him. Sam couldn’t look at him. He feared to hope for anything.

He would never have the female parts that his mate desired. If he stopped taking testosterone injections, there was a chance his breasts would swell a little, but they still wouldn’t be the same as a female’s. He’d never be able to grow a vagina, uterus, and ovaries to give him pups and he had no desire to remove his male organs and surgically alter his body in any way. He had finally come to accept himself for all his defects and everything he had to do to keep from falling back into the pit of despair. He was making progress. He was feeling happy.

But how could he be happy if his mate rejected him or was unable to love and accept him?

“So... what do we do?” he asked.

His stomach twisted in anxiety. He peered up through his lashes at his mate sitting strapped to the bed and staring at the wall across from him.

“What do you want to do?” Mik asked.

There was no emotion in his voice to hint at his thoughts. Even his scent was hard to decipher under the lingering odors of his rage that had fired off earlier.

Heat warmed Sam’s face as he hung his head and rubbed his arms. “I want to try...”

Mik was silent until his stomach growled loudly. Closing his eyes, he heaved a sigh. “I’m still undecided but I’m so fucking hungry.”

“I can check with the nurse and see if it’s okay for you to eat?” Sam offered.

Another loud rumble of Mik’s stomach made his face twist in a grimace. “Go.”

With something to take his mind off his anxiety, Sam hurried out the door to the front desk and inquired with the nurse if it was okay for him to get his mate something to eat. She flipped through her file and shrugged. “I don’t see anything to indicate he can’t eat. Get him something easy to digest like soup or rice.”

“Okay, thanks,” Sam said before running out the door.

The kitchen would be empty now, the cooks gone home for the night, but hopefully, there was some leftover chicken noodle soup that he could warm up for his mate. The thought of feeding him stirred a flurry of butterflies in his gut. Feeding mates was part of the courtship phase. Even though Mik was depended on him due to circumstances, it was Sam’s chance to show him that he was worthy of acceptance. Worthy of love.

He found a glass container in the fridge with some leftover soup. Setting it on the counter, he looked around for a saucepan. Finding one, he dumped the soup in and set it on the gas stovetop and cranked the heat up. While it warmed, he hunted for some dinner rolls but found none. A few slices of white bread would have to do and there was plenty of that.

The next task at hand proved challenging—replaceing a to-go container. He searched high and low for one and had to turn the gas on the stove off when the soup was hot and he still hadn’t found anything. Finally, he found a stainless steel thermos and dumped the soup in it. He grabbed a deep cappuccino mug and spoon and packed everything up.

Returning to his mate’s bedside, he pulled up a chair before pouring some of the soup into the mug. Holding the mug by the handle in one hand and the spoon in the other, he slowly and carefully fed Mik, watching his mouth chew and his throat swallow before gathering more soup onto his spoon.

Again, he felt his mate’s eyes roaming over his face as he ate. A few times he dared to look up and meet Mik’s chocolate brown eyes, only to quickly look away, his heartbeat skipping—along with Mik’s. Flushed with warmth, he squirmed in his seat at the foreign sensation tingling over his arms and spine and making his stomach flip-flop all over itself.

When Mik was full, he closed his eyes and uttered, “Enough.”

Sam set the mug down and leaned over to wipe Mik’s mouth. He could feel himself growing hard in his pants as his gaze lingered on Mik’s lips. Avoiding those brown eyes, he turned away, mumbling about going to the bathroom and washing his hands. He could feel the heat on his face and on the back of his neck. He needed an escape.

It’s the matebond, he told himself. It’s just screwing with you. Cam warned you.

He splashed some cold water on his face and neck in the bathroom after relieving his bladder. Looking up at his reflection in the mirror, water dripping down his face from the tips of his black hair, he reminded himself that it was the matebond toying with him the way it toyed with everyone.

Get used to it. It’s going to happen more and more. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. This is normal. The early stages. Don’t get freaked out.

But he couldn’t help freaking out a little. He was attracted to a male who wasn’t sure he wanted him. A male connected to Andrew’s murderer. A male set on killing the people who mattered most in his life.

He gripped the fabric of his shirt in his hand over the ache in his chest.

How could he care about someone with the power to destroy him and everyone he held dear?