Page 11 of Honey Heat (Sin & Steel #9)

Heading to the kitchen, Lucio rummaged through his refrigerator, grateful he’d gone shopping recently. “How does pasta sound? I make a decent marinara.”

“Sounds amazing.” Ethan had joined him, his backpack right back in his arms. “I should probably get out of these scrubs. I feel ridiculous. I don’t even know why Dr. Martinez let me leave in it.”

Neither did Lucio, but damn if Ethan didn’t look good with his ass hanging out of the back. “Need help?”

A blush crept up Ethan’s neck. “I think I can manage. Unless you’re offering to undress me?”

“Don’t tempt me, hermoso .” Lucio’s voice dropped lower. He would love nothing more than to strip his mate naked, but Ethan was hungry, so food would come first.

Ethan’s blush deepened, and he ducked his head. “Right. I’ll just... go change then.” He turned suddenly, nearly colliding with the wall.

Lucio winced as Ethan gently smacked the wall, as if silently scolding it for being there, then hurried away.

Lucio watched him go, admiring the way his mate moved, his gaze zeroed in on the sway of his osito’s hips. Once Ethan disappeared into the bathroom, Lucio went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

As he started gathering ingredients, he heard a thump from the bathroom, followed by a muffled curse.

“Ethan?” Lucio called, already moving down the hallway. “You okay?”

“Fine! Just—” Another thump. “Damn it.”

Lucio knocked on the door. “Need some help?”

A pause then a resigned sigh. “Yes. Please.”

Opening the door, Lucio found Ethan standing in his boxers, scrubs discarded on the floor, trying unsuccessfully to pull a T-shirt over his head with his bandaged hands. The sight of his mate’s bare torso, lean and toned despite the fading bruises, made Lucio’s mouth go dry.

“Having trouble?” he asked, keeping his voice light as he stepped closer.

“These stupid bandages,” Ethan muttered, frustration evident in his voice. “I can’t grip anything properly.”

“Let me.” Lucio took the shirt from him and carefully guided it over Ethan’s head, then he helped thread Ethan’s arms through the sleeves. His fingers brushed against warm skin, and he felt Ethan shiver at the contact. “There we go.”

“Thanks.” Ethan looked up at him, their faces now inches apart in the small bathroom. “This is embarrassing.”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” Lucio assured him, reaching for the sweatpants on the counter. “Everyone needs help sometimes.”

He knelt down, holding the pants open so Ethan could step into them. His mate placed his hands on Lucio’s shoulders for balance, and Lucio tried not to think about how intimate this position was—him on his knees, helping Ethan dress.

Slowly, he pulled the sweatpants up, his knuckles grazing the soft skin of Ethan’s thighs. He heard his mate’s breath catch, felt the slight tremble in his fingers where they gripped Lucio’s shoulders.

“There,” Lucio said, standing up once the pants were in place. “All dressed.”

“Thank you,” Ethan whispered, not moving away. His hazel eyes were dark with something that made Lucio’s pulse quicken.

Without thinking, Lucio leaned in, capturing Ethan’s lips in a gentle kiss. His mate responded immediately, pressing closer, one bandaged hand coming up to rest against Lucio’s chest.

The kiss deepened, Lucio’s hand sliding to the small of Ethan’s back, careful of his injuries. A soft moan escaped Ethan’s throat, the sound sending heat coursing through Lucio’s veins.

He pulled back reluctantly, resting his forehead against Ethan’s. “We should probably eat something,” he murmured.

“Food. Right.” Ethan looked dazed, his lips slightly swollen from their kiss. “Good idea.”

They made their way back to the kitchen, Lucio’s hand resting lightly on the small of Ethan’s back.

While preparing the meal, Lucio kept glancing at his mate, who had found the remote and was flipping through channels. His mate looked right in his space, like he’d always belonged. The domesticity of it all hit Lucio with unexpected force.

His phone buzzed with a text from Santiago. Chopper stable. Martinez says he’ll make it. Shooter still unknown.

Lucio’s grip tightened on the knife he was using to chop garlic.

He typed back. Good news. Taking care of my mate. Will check in tomorrow.

“Everything okay?” Ethan called from the living room.

“Yeah,” Lucio replied, setting his phone aside. “Just an update on Chopper.”

“The guy who got shot?” Ethan’s voice grew closer as he appeared in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame. “Is he going to be all right?”

Lucio nodded, resuming his chopping. “Looks like it. He’s tough.”

“What happened to him?” Ethan asked, taking a tentative step into the kitchen.

“Someone shot him on the side of the road. We don’t know who yet.” Lucio didn’t want to worry his mate, but he wouldn’t lie to him either. “It might be connected to what happened to you.”

Ethan’s face paled slightly. “You think so?”

“I don’t know,” Lucio admitted. “But it’s too much of a coincidence. First, you get tortured for information about your clan, then one of our pack members gets shot in broad daylight.”

“I should have told you more about what happened to me,” Ethan said quietly.

Lucio set down his knife and crossed to his mate. “You don’t have to talk about it until you’re ready.”

“But if it could help—”

“It can wait until after dinner,” Lucio insisted. “You need to eat and rest.”

Ethan nodded then surprised Lucio by leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not pushing. For bringing me here. For…” Ethan gestured vaguely. “Everything.”

Lucio smiled, feeling something settle inside him. “That’s what mates do, carino .”

Dinner was a quiet affair, with Ethan complimenting the food between bites while Lucio helped him manage the fork with his bandaged hands. They talked about small things—Lucio’s job as the pack’s tech expert, Ethan’s work as a wildlife photographer, the books they’d read recently.

It was only after they’d moved back to the couch, bellies full and the kitchen cleaned, that Ethan brought up his captivity again.

“They kept asking about clan territory,” he said, staring at his hands. “About our defenses, access points, how many of us there were.”

Lucio sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders touched. “Did they say why?”

“Not directly. But I overheard things when they thought I was unconscious.” Ethan’s voice grew quieter. “They talked about ‘collection sites’ and ‘harvesting.’”

A cold feeling settled in Lucio’s stomach. “Harvesting what?”

“Blood, tissue samples, bone marrow.” Ethan shuddered. “I think they’re trying to develop something using shifter biology. Something they can sell.”

“Like a serum?” Lucio remembered the needle marks on Ethan’s arms, the way his pupils had been dilated when they found him.

Ethan shrugged. “I think they might be targeting different shifter species for different traits. What if the hyenas are trying to use all of this on themselves? To make them superior to the rest of the shifter species?”

“Shit.” Lucio ran a hand through his hair. “This is worse than we thought.”

“There was one man who seemed in charge—not a scientist, more like a businessman. Expensive suit, always on the phone.” Ethan’s fingers twisted in his lap. “He came in once, watched them... work on me. Seemed pleased with the results.”

“Would you recognize him if you saw him again?”

“I’d never forget his face.” Ethan’s expression hardened. “He had these cold eyes, like he was looking at a lab rat, not a person.”

Lucio pulled out his phone, bringing up the image he’d recovered from the warehouse security system. “Is this him?”

Ethan flinched visibly, his breath catching. “That’s him. Where did you get this?”

“From the warehouse cameras before they were cut.” Lucio set the phone down, wrapping an arm around Ethan’s shoulders. “We'll find him, osito . I promise.”

Ethan leaned into him, exhaustion evident in the slump of his shoulders. “I should call my dad.

“Tomorrow,” Lucio said firmly. “You need rest now.”

“But—”

“He knows you’re safe with me.” Lucio pressed a kiss to Ethan’s temple. “Let’s get you to bed.”

The bedroom was similarly modest—a queen-sized bed with navy sheets, a dresser, and nightstands. Lucio dug through his drawers for something Ethan could wear to sleep.

“These might be big on you,” he said, holding out a soft T-shirt and flannel pants with a drawstring waist, “but they’re comfortable.”

“Thanks.” Ethan took the clothes then hesitated. “Um, could you...”

“Help you change?” Lucio finished for him, noting the blush spreading across his mate’s cheeks. “Of course.”

With gentle hands, Lucio helped Ethan out of his clothes and into the borrowed sleepwear. He tried to keep his touch clinical, respectful, but the sight of Ethan’s bare skin—even bruised and healing—sent heat coursing through him.

“There,” he said, voice slightly rough as he finished tying the drawstring. “All set.”

Ethan looked up at him, those hazel eyes reflecting the soft lamplight. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

The question hung between them, loaded with meaning. Lucio cupped Ethan’s face in his hands. “I’ll stay as close as you want me to, carino . No more, no less.”

“I want you next to me,” Ethan said softly. “Just holding me.”

“Then that’s what you’ll get.” Lucio pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Let me just lock up.”

After securing the house and changing into his own sleep clothes, Lucio slid into bed beside Ethan. His mate immediately curled against him, head resting on Lucio’s chest, one bandaged hand splayed over his heart.

“This okay?” Ethan murmured, already sounding half-asleep.

“Perfect,” Lucio whispered, arm wrapping protectively around his mate’s shoulders.

He lay awake long after Ethan’s breathing had evened out, mind racing with everything he’d learned. Someone was targeting shifters, harvesting their biological material for profit. They’d hurt his mate, shot his packmate, and were likely planning more attacks.

Lucio tightened his hold on Ethan, a silent promise forming in his heart. He would protect what was his, no matter the cost. And when he found the man in the suit—the one who had watched Ethan’s torture with those cold, calculating eyes—there would be hell to pay.

His phone vibrated on the nightstand. Careful not to disturb Ethan, Lucio reached for it, squinting at the bright screen.

A text from Boone. Is he safe?

Lucio typed back one-handed. Yes. Sleeping now. He’s worried about you.

The reply came quickly. Taking care of some things. Tell him I’ll see him tomorrow. And, wolf, if anything happens to him, I’ll hold you personally responsible.

Lucio’s mouth curved into a grim smile as he set the phone aside. At least they agreed on one thing. Ethan’s safety came first.

Outside, the wind picked up, branches scratching against the window like restless fingers. Lucio listened to his mate’s steady breathing, finding comfort in the rhythm.

Whatever was coming, the Salvador pack would be ready. And God help anyone who tried to hurt Ethan again.