Rise to Submit [Rise of the Changelings, Book 4] (Siren Publishing Epic Romance, ManLove) (29 page)

Freedman froze. “Henderson.”

There was long pause, and Freedman wanted to say so much. Henderson was his best friend. Strangely enough, after the gun incident, they had become inseparable. It killed him to know he had failed the man. It was Freedman who had sent Henderson to Rick, taking a risk that had blown up in his face and lost him the best man he had ever had the honor of knowing.

“The detention center is a setup. Loki is working for the mercenaries. He plans on coming to help. Kill him because fighting him is impossible.”

Freedman clenched his teeth. “I’m coming to get you. Just because you have been converted doesn’t mean you have to stay with them. You can fight alongside me, just like the old days.”

“It’s too late for me, John. There is no going back, not now, not ever. I probably won’t live out the night. Loki knows I found out about his plans. I just…I just wanted to warn you, to give you a fighting chance.”

“Nicholas!” Freedman shouted when the line went dead. He threw his phone, feeling raw rage fill him. There was no way he was going to sit by and let his best friend be killed.

Not again. He had lost Henderson once. Grabbing his bag from the floor, Freedman made his way out of his motel room. Omar was standing outside, gazing off into the woods.

“Something out there?” Freedman asked.

Omar turned and looked at him and once again Freedman could feel the air leaving his lungs. The man was nothing short of breathtaking. His light-blue eyes studied Freedman, and then he shook his head. “No, just thinking.” He glanced at Freedman’s bag. “Where are you going?”

“To help a friend stay alive.” He knew he would have to find a vehicle to use. The Rebellion group only had two, and they needed them. Albuquerque wasn’t too far away. Freedman could find a vehicle there.

“Can I go with you?” Omar asked when Freedman walked to Rick’s door to let the alpha know he was leaving. It wasn’t Omar’s question that threw him off. It was his tone of voice. The man sounded dejected.

Freedman studied him for a long moment. For a second, the mist fell from Omar’s eyes and Freedman saw the real man. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Omar looked like he had no one in this world. “I can’t guarantee your safety.”

“Neither can Rick. But I’d like to get away from this for a while.”

Freedman hitched his bag higher onto his shoulder. “I’m not going on vacation. There is no rest where I’m going.”

Omar slipped his hand into his front pocket and met Freedman’s gaze. “Just say you don’t want me to go. You don’t have to keep throwing excuses at me.”

“It isn’t that,” Freedman said, puzzled by Omar’s behavior. “I just want you to know what you are facing.”

Omar nodded solemnly. “And you’ve warned me.”

Freedman felt himself nod faintly in return, but inside he was unsure what to think. “Get your bag. We’ll be walking to the next town.”

Omar was gone before Freedman had a chance to turn and knock. What a very bizarre conversation.

After explaining to Rick about Henderson, Freedman waited until Omar was by his side, bag secured to his back, before he set off to go save his best friend.

* * * *

Ian glanced up when someone knocked on their door. Mason was sitting at the table reading over the local paper. Ian was on his knees at Mason’s feet, his wrists locked at his sides, his ankles locked together with ankle cuffs, and a ball gag in his mouth.

“Come in.”

The door opened and Ian could see Dorian pause. His eyes flickered over Ian, his brows furrowed. “Should I come back?”

Mason glanced down at Ian and then shook his head. “No. Was there something you needed?”

Dorian looked uncomfortable as hell as he glanced down at Ian again. “Okay, I can’t take it anymore. Why is he like that?”

Mason set his paper down, eyeing Dorian. “Are you asking because you are curious, or are you asking to start trouble?”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “I’m curious as hell. I won’t say seeing Ian like that isn’t a little disturbing, but I promised him I would try and understand.”

Mason reached over and ran his fingers over Ian’s hair, playing with the long ends. “He needed extra guidance this morning. We are also working on boundaries today. He needs to not only learn them for himself, but for others as well.”

Dorian took a seat across from Mason, which surprised Ian. The man didn’t look as flustered as Ian thought he would. “So why didn’t you just talk to him?”

“Because talking to Ian doesn’t always work. Sometimes he needs that added security. Binding and gagging him seems to ground him.”

Dorian’s eyes cut over to Ian. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Mason answered for Ian. “And for future reference, you are to address me, not Ian. I’ll let him know when he can speak.”

Dorian scratched his chin. “I have to say, this is the strangest thing I have ever seen.”

“Only because you don’t understand your brother’s needs,” Mason answered calmly.

“No,” Dorian replied. “I don’t. I never saw a
need
in him before, when we were at home.” Dorian glanced over at Ian, but looked back at Mason. “Did he always have this need and just never showed it?”

Releasing Ian’s hair, Mason turned fully toward Dorian. “Tell me what he was like in his late teen years.”

Ian could tell Dorian was giving it careful thought. When Dorian had told Ian he would try to understand, Ian had thought the man wasn’t serious, but from the look on his face, he could tell Dorian was truly trying to grasp the concept.

“He was moody, kept to himself a lot, and stopped coming around me so much,” Dorian finally answered. “I thought he was a just going through normal teen shit.”

If his brother only knew even half the truth. Ian lowered his head, feeling the shame wash over him once more at what he had allowed himself to go through.

“Raise your head, Ian,” Mason commanded. “Shame is not something I’m going to allow you to feel right now. Everyone makes mistakes. The important thing is that you are trying to clean yourself up. You have absolutely nothing to feel ashamed of. Remember our lesson from last night and recite it in your head.”

Dorian stood and then dropped down next to Ian. “I’m sorry Mason, but this I have to say to Ian.” Dorian turned back around. “I’m not trying to make you feel ashamed, Ian. I told you before that I love you. I’ll always love you. You made mistakes. But you are back with us now.”

Ian could feel the tears falling down his cheeks as he pulled away from Dorian. He couldn’t take it. This was just too much for him right now. The guilt was so fierce that it felt alive, breaking through his body like a living entity trying to get free and take over. Not even Mason’s lessons were helping at the moment. Ian knew it would take time, but hearing Dorian talk about shame made Ian feel dirty all over again.

“Get out,” Mason growled at Dorian. “I told you he is not to be directly addressed!”

“But he’s my brother!”

Ian curled inside of himself, his back remembering every lash, every cut, his body echoing every cruel thing the vampires had ever done to him. He wanted to peel his skin from his body, to feel clean, but most of all, Ian wanted to forget.

“And he isn’t ready to face his guilt with his family. I’m asking you to leave him alone until I say he is ready, Dorian. Go.”

Ian saw Dorian step toward the door. “I’m so sorry, Ian. I didn’t mean to bring you any pain.” He turned and left.

Mason bent down by Ian, pulling him from the floor and carrying him over to the bed. He removed the ball gag and tossed it aside.

“There is a fine line that divides pleasure and pain,” Mason said as he unlocked Ian’s ankle cuffs. “You know what pain is, Ian. Don’t you?”

“Y–Yes, Sir.” Ian couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen. He couldn’t seem to settle the hard shudder of his pounding heart.

“And you are learning what pleasure is,” Mason said as he ran his fingers over Ian’s jaw.

“Yes.”

Mason reached over and pressed the iPod he had set by the bed earlier. Jazz began to fill the room, making Ian remember the first time they met, how scared he was, and how Mason’s strong presence terrified him, yet comforted him at the same time.

“I want you to start meditating, Ian.” Mason reached over and placed his fingers on Ian’s eyelids, closing them. “I am a man with immeasurable self-worth. I used drugs, but that is not what defines me. My strength, my character, and what I do with my life from this day forward is what people will judge me by.”

Ian took in a deep breath, letting the music fill his mind and then flow through him. As he sat there on the bed, Ian opened a small door in his mind.

The memory was of him at home, before it all began, before his addiction. He used those happy memories of his parents and brother as his focal point as he opened another door.

This one was the memory where his entire life changed. It was the night he had allowed Calico to woo him. That night Ian had been enthralled, not by the vampire’s eyes, but his strength. Ian had thought Calico the epitome of what he was looking for.

And that was why he had let the vampire feed from him.

Because he had been desperate, looking for something he had been longing for since Ian had recognized his own sexuality.

The guilt of what he had done tried to take hold, but Ian reached for the feeling of his parents, his brother, how much they had loved him, how much love they had shown him, and wrapped that feeling around him.

I am a man with immeasurable self-worth. I used drugs, but that is not what defines me. My strength, my character, and what I do with my life from this day forward is what people will judge me by.

It worked to an extent, but shame was still ever present.

“It will take time, Ian.”

Ian remembered that Mason could scent his emotions. His shame must be a heavy fragrance on the air.

“But you will learn that you are the only judge and jury of your conscience. You are the one who has to forgive yourself.”

“It’s hard,” Ian admitted without opening his eyes. “If I hadn’t said yes, or if I hadn’t gone to that party…”

“But you did,” Mason said from close by. “You made a mistake. Now it’s time you forgive yourself.”

Ian felt the hot tears rolling down his cheeks. He wanted to shout that he could never forgive himself for such a stupid choice, but he could feel Mason’s presence, feel his strength surrounding him. The man had said they had a bond, and it was growing deeper.

Ian felt it. It was like a warm blanket on a cold winter night, keeping him warm, keeping him safe.

I am a man of immeasurable worth.

“Say the words, Ian, but only if you mean them.”

Ian swallowed past the lump in his throat. It was hard to speak, hard to talk when the lodged tears felt so heavy. “I–I forgive myself.”

“Do you?”

Ian felt a piece of himself being put back into the big gaping hole in his heart. He felt as if a part of him was being restored. “Yes.”

The music continued to flood the room, keeping Ian relaxed as he thought about that crucial night. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, letting the pain and guilt go.

He wasn’t anywhere near where he needed to be in order to be happy. But letting the shame go of how it all began was a start.

They were heading out in the morning. Groups of Rebellions had amassed and were hiding out close by in various locations. Rick had delivered the news to Mason.

First light, they attacked.

Freedman’s men had shown up, Jordison and Corrigan, but Freedman was still gone. He was still out there somewhere hunting down his friend in hopes of saving his life.

Mason sat at the table, wondering what tomorrow would bring as he watched Ian sleep. They could very well be heading into a trap where some wouldn’t make it back alive. Mason knew this, but he also held true to what he had said to Rick. There was no way he was sitting by and allowing any changeling to be tortured or experimented on.

Not when he could do something to stop it. He just wished he knew if they were going into a bloodbath.

Maybe it was better that he didn’t know.

Mason gazed at his mate in the dark hours before the battle that was sure to be bloody and leave a lasting scar on many souls.

His mate had meditated for the rest of the afternoon. Mason had left him alone after talking Ian through the immense guilt he had felt coming from the man in waves of sorrow.

He wasn’t foolish enough to believe the healing would be done overnight. Ian had a long way to go. Four years of abuse could not be undone in one single session.

As he sat there, Mason thought about his father, his past. He was never abused, but love wasn’t something he had a lot of experience with.

His father had been as cold as the arctic air. The man knew nothing of what a child needed, craved. There were some nights Mason had lain in bed, wishing his mother were still alive to hold him, comfort him.

But now he was a grown man, helping a man who was even more broken than Mason. Never would he tell Ian that there were times he felt just as lost as his mate. Ian needed someone strong, someone to help him heal.