Ryland's Sacrifice Page 10

  Ryland gasped as the hand on his shoulder tightened its grip and spun him around to face the larger man. A moment later, his back was against the wall to one side of the fireplace. Arslan held him there with one hand in the middle of his chest.

  He’d never seen the professor truly angry before. A minute before, Ryland would have sworn that he’d seen him furious in a dozen different lectures. He knew in that moment, he’d been wrong. He’d never seen Arslan even close to losing his temper before.

  With so much pain and desperation swirling inside him, Ryland didn’t have any room left for any thought toward self-preservation. “If I’d been a lion, would you have forgiven me so easily, sir?”

  “No,” Arslan snapped, apparently now angry enough to tell the truth as well.

  “Because you’d expect better from a lion,” Ryland pushed.

  Arslan’s lips began to frame an affirmative, but he stopped himself short with a snarl. “Our traditions exist for a reason. Don’t dismiss them as if they were designed as an insult to you.”

  Part of Ryland wanted to apologize. Part of him wanted to scream that he had no interest in any tradition that meant he had to lose everything he’d thought he was working toward over the last two weeks.

  The other man’s acceptance of him had been such a beautiful mirage. He hadn’t even known how much he wanted it until he’d seen it there waiting for him, shining and shimmering just out of his reach. And now… Ryland swallowed rapidly and stayed silent.

  “Lions are stronger than humans,” Arslan bit out. “We remember that, because if we forget, we’re not the ones who get hurt.”

  “But that wasn’t the sort of allowance you were talking about making for me, was it, sir?” Ryland pushed.

  Arslan stared down at him in silence for several long seconds. “If you’d been born with a lion’s instincts, raised within a pride that could teach you how to follow those instincts, you’d have had to be a fool to make the decisions you made over the last weeks. Is that what you want to me say?”

  “Yes! And, if it’s the truth, treat me like a fool,” Ryland pleaded. “I’d rather that than have you think the idea I could ever be good enough for you was so laughable there’s no point in me even trying.” His tone was only one step above begging. The other man’s hand holding him against the wall damn near the only thing that stopped him lowering himself to his knees in earnest.

  “Not acceptable.”

  Ryland closed his eyes as he let his head fall back against the wall behind him, sick to his stomach with defeat. And the worst thing of all was knowing that he’d stay. Even if all he could get were scraps and pity, he’d stay.

  “Open your eyes. Look at me,” Arslan ordered.

  Ryland bowed his head, turning away from the other man as best he could when held against the wall.

  “Now, not whenever you feel like it.”

  Ryland blinked his eyes open, more in shock at the sudden change in tone than because his brain was in any condition to process an order and obey it accurately right then.

  “You said you wanted to be treated like a lion—held to the same standards as a lion,” Arslan said.

  Ryland nodded, mutely.

  “Not acceptable,” Arslan repeated, his eyes searching Ryland’s face as if looking for some clue to some ancient mystery Ryland wasn’t even aware of. “If you were a lion, nothing you’ve done in the last two weeks would be considered acceptable.”

  Very slowly, scared to take a breath in case it would somehow cause everything to crumble around him, Ryland nodded his understanding. “Yes, sir.”

  As if moving in slow motion, Arslan took his hand off Ryland’s chest and stepped back. He turned and took more several paces away from Ryland before he turned back to face him.

  “A lion would be expected to explain his actions to the leader of his pride, to answer for them,” he said. His tone was more cautious than Ryland had ever heard, as if he was feeling his way forward in unfamiliar territory and wasn’t sure if he’d be required to change tactic at any moment.

  Ryland nodded quickly, not sure he trusted his voice while everything rested on what the other man said next.

  “That’s what you want?” Arslan pushed.

  He nodded again.

  “When you agreed to be thrown to the lions, you had no idea you would be safe with us, yet you agreed to it anyway.”

  Ryland managed another nod.

  “Unacceptable.” Suddenly, Arslan stood right before him, barely an inch of air between them.

  Ryland gasped, staring up at the larger man. The cuffs behind his back were the only things that stopped him from reaching out to him right then.

  “You could have been killed… You could have been…” Arslan shook his head at the same possibilities that had filled Ryland’s head before he recognized the professor that night. “You know that, and you agreed to it regardless. Unacceptable.”

  Ryland couldn’t make the words much more than a whisper, but he forced them out regardless. “If I were to be held to the same standard as a lion, what would the punishment be, sir?”

  “That’s not the way things work between lions.” Arslan turned away from him and strode back into the middle of the room once more. For several long moments, he kept his back to Ryland as if deep in thought.

  As Ryland stepped forward, he saw Arslan’s shoulders tense and he knew the lion had sensed his approach. He forced himself to take another step forward. “Tell me how things are between lions, sir?”

  The professor turned back to him. “A lion would wait until after his leader has finished with his questions before asking his own.”

  Ryland nodded his acceptance and fell silent. If there was any chance of being properly accepted by the other man, he knew he’d happily stay silent for the rest of his life.

  Arslan reached out, he settled his palm on Ryland’s cheek. Not sure what the appropriate lion response should be, he stayed still and took what reassurance he could from the gentle touch.

  “Lions aren’t permitted to disappear whenever the mood strikes. They aren’t permitted to hide their location from the rest of the pride either,” Arslan informed him, only slightly less cautiously.

  Ryland swallowed several times in quick succession. “Graddage Street,” he finally said. “In Jason Burrow’s house. I borrowed money from him to pay back Kershaw.”

  “Lions are expected to learn from their mistakes,” Arslan snapped, but he kept his hand where it was as Ryland felt the heat rush to his cheeks. It was the same tone of voice the professor used in his lectures when a student wasn’t only failing to learn, but failing to make what Arslan considered to be a reasonable effort to do so. “If there’s an explanation, give it.”

  “Being away from you hurt too much, sir,” Ryland rushed out, his toes curling into the hearth rug as he fought to hold his ground in the face of the other man’s displeasure.

  Arslan’s thumb stroked over the top line of his cheekbone, silently encouraging him to go on.

  Ryland’s hands clenched into fists behind his back as he held onto the desperate hope that the truth would help. “I couldn’t come back and tell you I wasn’t a whore while I still had Kershaw’s money. I wanted to come back to you so badly, sir. Jason was the only way to do that this quickly.”

  “And what price did you pay for that decision, pet?” Arslan asked him, his voice rough with emotion, even as he made an obvious effort to speak gently to him.

  “Mark Jefferies—Jason’s boyfriend. He found out Mark was so busy fussing over him he was flunking out. And he decided I was going to be his new tutor. Neither of us left Mark’s study very often after that. I… I agreed to stay there. It was the only way to stay away from you until I deserved to come back and…”

  “Neither he nor Jason laid a hand on you?” Arslan asked.

  Ryland shook his head.

  Arslan studied him for a while longer before he seemed willing to believe him. Ryland didn’t miss the relief that flooded into
his eyes just before he looked away.

  “Very well. The remainder of the debt will be paid off tomorrow.”

  It took Ryland a few seconds to realize what the older man meant. “No.”

  Surprise flashed across the other man’s face as if it had never occurred to him that Ryland could ever say that word to him.

  “No,” Ryland repeated, shaking his head, just so there could be no doubts surrounding the matter. “You can’t.” The other man couldn’t pay it off for him. The time he’d forced himself to spend away from the other man had hurt far too much for it all to be wiped away as if he had never even tried to make things right by himself.

  “The pride takes care of its own.” There wasn’t as little room for argument in the other man’s tone as there had been in Ryland’s. “A master takes care of his pet. I’d settle the debt if you were a lion.”

  Ryland hesitated. He lowered his gaze. “I’m not asking you to treat me like anything other than a lion, sir.”

  “It’s that important to a human’s mind?” Arslan asked, slipping into that slow, feeling his way forward tone of voice again.

  “I’m not asking you to treat me like anything other than a lion,” Ryland repeated. There was nothing that could ever make uttering that sort of request worth the risk. The other man’s acceptance of him was far too fragile.

  “You’re not a lion.”

  Ryland couldn’t hold back the flinch. The tone wasn’t cruel. The words were nothing more than a statement of fact. Somehow, that just made it worse.

  “I’ve never asked you to be,” Arslan reminded him.

  “I don’t want allowances made for me, sir.” It was pretty much the only thing Ryland was sure of. He wanted to be the man he’d believed Arslan thought he was when he made his first offer. He needed to be that man. For once in his life, he had to be the man those around him wanted him to be.

  “You wish to have permission to continue tutoring his lover?” Arslan asked. “To pay back the debt on your own.” He stepped closer and settled his other hand on Ryland’s shoulder, as if trying to coddle him with his support and understanding.

  Ryland shook his head. Not at that price.

  “I’ll speak to Jason tomorrow,” Arslan decided.

  Ryland took a deep breath and let it out very slowly, trying not to care, trying not to believe he’d morphed back into a whore as his lover said the words.

  Arslan’s fingers slid down his cheek. The older man tucked a knuckle under his chin. “You can pay back your loan in your own time if it means that much to you, but Jason will be made to understand that you’ll do so on terms that I deem acceptable. There will be no disappearing. There will be no keeping you away from your pride. Those are the things that matter to us, pet, not who holds the money in his hand.”

  Part of him wanted what the other man offered him so badly. But, at the same time, another side of him was equally desperate to be kind of man who never needed to have that kind allowance made for him. Caught between the two ideals, Ryland had no idea what to say.

  “A leader takes care of his pride,” Arslan repeated. “But he doesn’t do that by riding roughshod over those he cares for. If it’s important to you, arrangements can be made for you to pay back the money on your own terms.”

  Ryland stared down at the floor to one side of them. There were so many thoughts running through his head, he didn’t know which ones to try to catch hold of. Every time he tried to trace one to its conclusion, it spiraled away from him, leaving him more and more lost by the moment.

  “Don’t try to think,” Arslan told him. “Your instincts exist for a reason, and I’ve never known a human who takes to his instincts as beautifully as you do.”

  “My instincts told me to pay back the debt myself, sir. That you’d be pleased with me for doing that.”

  Arslan nodded as if that settled it. Dipping his head, he rested his forehead against the top of Ryland’s head the way he’d seen the other lions do with each other.

  Closing his eyes, he relished the contact with the other man.

  “Wanting to please your mate is a fine instinct,” Arslan whispered to him. “So is wanting to please the leader of your pride. But you won’t please me by pretending to be a lion.”

  Ryland closed his eyes as tightly as he could and prayed the way he had when he was a little child—when he’d believed that praying hard enough would somehow make everything okay.

  “You’ll please me by learning to be a good member of the pride, by learning to trust your human instincts,” Arslan whispered to him. “I can teach you how to do that.”

  Ryland nodded very quickly. “Yes, sir.”

  “Your instinct for self-preservation in particular needs a great deal of attention if we are to bring it up to a standard that a lion can find acceptable.”

  Ryland glanced up at the other man. “I’ll work on it, sir.”

  Arslan smiled down at him, and Ryland knew he had found the right answer. He smiled back.

  “Good,” Arslan pressed a kiss on his temple. “And when you’ve learned what is expected of you, perhaps I’ll reconsider my decision to keep you within constant sight of the pride.”

  Ryland hesitated. “You…”

  “…meant it when I told you that you won’t be allowed out of our sight?” Arslan asked. “Yes. The leader of a pride doesn’t hand down punishments the way a human leader might, but lessons are given. That’s how the younger lions learn—there’s no reason why a human who joins us shouldn’t learn in the same way.”

  For the first time in a fortnight, Ryland found himself able to take a breath without having to struggle for it. His mind settled. He felt the other man’s acceptance of him wrap around him, body and soul. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead on the other man’s shoulder.

  “There’ll be many explanations still to come this evening.”

  Ryland nodded, even that idea wasn’t enough to shake his newfound sense of peace as he lifted his head and met the other man’s eyes.

  Arslan smiled down at him as if he understood. “There’s no reason why those explanations can’t be given after you’re formally made a part of the pride.”

  An extra dose of relief raced through Ryland, making him lightheaded. He waited impatiently for the other man to recite the questions once more, but Arslan shook his head. “Such offers are made before the whole pride.” Arslan looked past him to the door leading out into the hallway. His mood seemed to change slightly as he stared at it. All of a sudden, he was exactly the same man who’d stood in front of a lecture hall full of students or a room full of lions. “First, the others must be reminded of their manners.”

  “Sir?”

  “Their behavior before I arrived was unacceptable.” His voice was once more perfectly confident as he turned his attention to a problem he was obviously far more used to dealing with.

  Ryland looked up at him blankly.

  “Did any of the lions lay a hand on you before I arrived?”

  Ryland shook his head, trying to keep up but falling behind as his lover returned to what was familiar to him and took it up as easily as he took each breath. “It was nothing, sir,” he offered.

  Arslan put his finger to Ryland’s lips once more. “I decide what standards are permissible for the lions in my pride. When you know more of us—then you may offer your opinions on what you believe is appropriate conduct between you and the rest of the pride.”

  Ryland nodded again.

  “Stay there.”

  Ryland did as he was told as the professor strode to the door and jerked open the heavy wooden panel.

  The older man nodded to someone outside. “Watch him. He doesn’t leave the fireside.”

  Ryland watched as Kefir, the smaller lion who he’d seen there a fortnight ago, walked into the room. Arslan really meant it. He really intended to provide him with a babysitter until he trusted him to make better decisions. The older man had really meant it when he said he’d make sure his lover reached
the standard his leader expected of him.

  The professor closed the door. Ryland stared at it for a long time, trying to wrap his mind around everything that had happened between them in the space of one short conversation. Everything was okay. Part of him believed that without really thinking about it. The part of him that had been screaming to return to the professor ever since he’d left the other man’s side was silent and content, the rest of him was just as confused as hell.

  Arslan actually…forgave him? Accepted him? Ryland swallowed, trying not to hope and not to doubt all at the same time.

  A loud bang echoed into the room from somewhere else in the house. After everything that had passed between him and Arslan, Ryland’s nerves couldn’t take much more. He jumped. “What—?” He looked across to Kefir.

  The lion looked to the door, then back to him. “He asked you what happened before he arrived?” he asked, very softly.

  Ryland stared at the door. A roar floated into the room, muffled by the door and distance, but still more than enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and a shiver run down his spine. “He asked if anyone laid a hand on me,” he offered.

  “And you said…?”

  “I said they didn’t.”

  Kefir smiled and seemed to lose some of his interest in the roar that came from outside the snug little room. “He won’t hurt them.”

  Ryland looked to the lion and met his eyes. “And if I said they had hurt me?”

  Kefir held his gaze. No words were required. His expression said it all.

  Ryland looked away first. “He said things would be handled as they are between lions. I don’t know what that means.”

  Kefir seemed to think about that for a while. “I don’t know what not handling things the way they are handled between lions means,” he said after a while. “I’ve spent less time among humans than the others.” He walked across to the rug before the fire and sat down there, close to the heat from the blaze.

  Ryland lowered himself to his knees, a little clumsy with his hands still tied behind his back. He looked back to the door when someone roared again.