Michel reached up and used his thumb to tug Jason's abused flesh from between his teeth. "It's the opposite, actually," he revealed. "Yer life will be extended to match mine. If I live another hundred fifty years, so will you. Me father was a shifter. Me mother was human. She died because he did."
For a second, Jason didn't get it. It hit him and he gasped. "If you die, I die?"
"Aye."
The quiet confirmation rocked Jason. He was now and forever, completely tied to another man's life. What could he say to that? And to have no say in the matter? "I-" He stopped, realizing that he'd had a choice-and made it-without even knowing. What did he do now?
"I don't know what to say," he whispered, stunned.
He'd already irrevocably changed his life once in the last month. Now, he'd done it again, albeit unwittingly. He'd come here to get his life back on track, falling back on a promise from an uncle he rarely spoke to, but who'd never judged him. Now, he found out that some men could turn into animals and one had claimed him. What did that mean for his life?
At least this conversation had caused his boner to dissipate. Michel had been right. He'd definitely given him something else to think about.
Jason looked up and found Michel watching him, concern tightening his brows. He sighed. "What do you expect to happen? What's this mean for … us?"
Michel slowly blew out a breath between his lips. "It means … " He paused, his eyes narrowing. For a second, Michel's dark eyes glittered. "Fuck this is horrible timing," he grumbled.
Already uncertain about this thing between them, Jason snapped. "What the hell does that mean?"
"Shite, I'm fucking this up." Michel growled.
In a smooth move, Michel rolled on top of Jason and trapped his wrists in one hand above his head, gripping his hair tightly in the other hand. He used the hold to tilt Jason's head back and he glared down at him fiercely. "You are me mate. Me life. I am nothing without ye. I want to please ye, care for ye, see to yer every need and make ye happy. Keep ye safe. I want to be yer partner."
For several seconds, Michel swept his gaze over and over Jason's face. "It's fucking horrible timing because I'm in hiding. I can't woo ye the way I'd like, the way ye deserve. I can't wine and dine ye. I can't go into town at all for probably another seven or eight years, until everyone has forgotten all about William McTiedry."
"Who's William McTiedry?" Jason asked, because he knew he couldn't process everything else Michel had said.
Michel's body seemed to sag. "I'm William McTiedry, Jason. Or I was up until just over three years ago. Now William's a name on a death certificate. It's something I've had to do before. Reinvent meself. Create a new history, start a new life. Shifters know it's something that has to be done occasionally and we support each other through the lonely times."
Growling in frustration, Michel released him and flopped onto his back beside him. He stared up at the ceiling and snarled, "Now, I find I have a young, sexy mate, who's just starting his life, and I won't be able to join him in all the fun things he wants to do."
"That's what you think of me?" Jason whispered, shocked at the man's words. Michel had just made it painfully obvious that he saw Jason as a pretty, playboy who didn't know what he wanted out of life. In his defense, they hadn't talked, and Jason had fallen into his arms as soon as Michel had crooked a finger. Still, if Fate had chosen him for Michel, shouldn't the man have a little faith in him?
Michel groaned and turned his head to look at him. "Ye're twenty-two. What am I supposed to think?"
Jason nodded slowly, trying to pull his thoughts together. The proximity of the other man made it hard to think rationally. That's when it hit him. Obviously, they both needed time to get their heads on straight. Jason knew he needed time to accept that shifters existed. He needed to decide how a life with Michel would work, too, and lying here next to him didn't give him the opportunity to figure that out.
"We don't know each other very well. That's true," Jason commented, searching for the right words. "It seems we've jumped into the deep end without really discussing the consequences." He cringed, knowing how that sounded even before he saw Michel wince. "Look, I understand you acted on instinct, right? Cause you're mixed with an animal?" Grimacing, Jason quickly added, "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."
"I understand," Michel grunted. "This is new … overwhelming, for ye."
Jason sighed. "I'd like us to get to know each other, but … after everything that's happened, I think I need us to slow down."
Michel nodded slowly. "Okay. I-I ask only one thing as we do this."
Nodding in encouragement, Jason prodded, "If I can."
"Ye can't have anyone else touch ye. Shifters are possessive sons of bitches," he warned. "And I worry I'd track the bastard down and kill him if I scented that something … intimate happened between you and another."
Jason nodded once. That was an easy one. He couldn't imagine allowing anyone but Michel to touch him any time soon, anyway. "Of course."
Chapter Eight
Michel leaped over the log, his paws crunching on last fall's leaves upon landing, and galloped after the hare. It veered sharply left, and Michel almost didn't make the turn. Righting his course, he sped after the rabbit. His prey dodged wildly to the left, again.
Growling in pleasure, Michel knew he had it. He leaped, knowing the beast was about to freeze upon figuring out its way was blocked by a cliff. Michel's left front paw landed on the hare's back, nearly flattening the animal with the force of his landing. He instantly wrapped his jaw around the creature and bit, hard.
Blood and hair filled his mouth and he quickly ripped out his dinner's throat.
Once certain the hare dead, Michel grabbed it in his jaws and trotted through the forest toward the clearing around his cabin. Dropping the rabbit on his porch, he happily started chowing down his supper.
It felt good to be out in his wolf form, running and hunting, easing his needs in the most primitive way. Lifting his head, he cocked an ear. The only way it'd be better was if his mate had been waiting for him, encouraging him to shift so they could cook and enjoy the plump hare together. Sighing, Michel peered around the clearing surrounding his cabin.
A yip drew his attention, pulling him out of his melancholy thoughts.
A moment later, Jamie appeared through the trees. One of his best friends, the light brown wolf trotted toward him, his tongue lolling. A moment later, two more wolves appeared-one black and one blond-dragging a doe behind them. Jamie yipped again, offering him part of their kill as recompense for hunting on his land.
Leaving his half-eaten hare behind, Michel trotted down the steps to join his friends and enjoy the venison feast provided. For several minutes, the sound of tearing flesh and crunching bone was the only sound filling the clearing. The blond wolf stepped back and the man shifted. Within a minute, a muscular blond-who appeared in his forties but Michel knew had actually celebrated his three century mark six years prior-crouched next to them.
"All right, ye dogs," Preall jeered. "That's enough. Let's get this deer quartered. I want some fucking steaks tonight for supper."
Michel growled and grabbed one hind leg between his teeth, playfully tugging it away from Preall. His buddy laughed while Jamie, who evidently agreed with Preall, nipped at his haunch. Michel growled again, but released the animal. He sat back and let his tongue loll.
He really appreciated his buddies coming out to keep him company. Especially since, if they hadn't been here while out running as wolf, he would have been hunting Jason down.
He'd known all of them for centuries, growing up-to varying degrees-in Ireland. Jamie-a light brown wolf-was the youngest. He'd hit his three century mark in another couple months. Still single, he hopped from bed partner to bed partner, claiming he refused to settle down until he found his mate.