He played him. Jamue balled his hands.
He fucking played him. He still wanted the bond.
Jamue regretted breaking down and giving in to his parents’ demands when things were hard for him in the commune house. He should have held on. But he thought he'd handled it by going to see Master Rosh. He explained what happened to him; why he suddenly agreed to the bond when he didn’t want it. He'd begged him on his knees and did things...Jamue shook his head, not wanting to think about that night. But Master Rosh agreed. He agreed to let him go.
Jamue got to his feet. “Father. Listen...”
"No, Jamue."
"I can't..."
“That’s not what I want to hear right now, Jamue. Come home. Let’s get you bonded. Master Rosh has waited for long enough. I shouldn’t have let you leave five years ago. But I thought you needed time after the…” his father's eyes dropped down to his neck. He paled and then turned away. “Just come home. I’m done waiting for you to come to your senses. Your bond to Master Rosh will stand whether you like it or not.” He turned and walked to the door.
“Father?” Jamue called after him, but he kept walking. Jamue dropped down in his chair and buried his face in his hands. Arms came around him and held him tight. Jamue leaned into Mac’s warm embrace, wishing he could stay there forever.
But he couldn’t.
Mac had his own life. And he couldn’t keep running away from his own.
He’d run away five years ago, and his parents had miraculously let him go. They were not going to do that now.
Tears filled his eyes. He tried to push them away, but they spilt over.
What was he going to do?
He couldn't get bonded. Just the thought of it...Jamue groaned as his body reacted. He started to shake. His stomach roiled. He slapped a hand to his lips and rushed to the washroom.
His stomach expelled everything he’d eaten that morning just as he opened the door. He vomited on the floor.
“Jamue? Here,” Mac brought the waste bot to him. He helped him to his knees and patted his back as he vomited. “Let it all out.”
Jamue moaned, balling his hands as his body shuddered. He heaved until nothing came out.
Mac helped him out of the washroom. He tried to protest, but he pushed him down into his chair and walked away.
He returned a minute later with a wet cloth.
“Here. Wipe your face. I’ll bring you a glass of water,” Mac said, handing him the cloth. He walked away and quickly came back with a glass of water. Jamue took a sip and handed the glass back to him.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, covering his face with the cloth. He felt embarrassed and weak. He hated that Mac saw him like that. He bit the inside of his mouth as more tears filled his eyes.
He looked up to find Mac staring at him with sympathy-filled eyes.
“Are you alright? Should I call your brother?”
Jamue shook his head. “I’m fine. I should…” he pushed to his feet and moved towards the washroom.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll clean up later. Sit,” Mac pushed him back into the chair. He stared down at him, and Jamue started to fidget.
“What?”
“You can tell them no, Jamue. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. You fought them for five years and made a name for yourself. You have enough credit now. You can have a life. This is what you’ve worked hard for, remember?”
Jamue nodded. He’d worked so hard.
“You don’t need your parents.”
“But I still need an alpha,” he said. "I can’t live by myself, remember?”