Page 15

“SO HERE’S Rían, sitting up in the tent in the middle of the night, dead asleep, and he goes, ‘Wolf. You don’t have magical powers. I’m the mage. I’ll turn you into a neeeewt.’”

Caius chuckled as Lukas and Rían regaled them with stories from their missions, Quinn even adding a few of his own. He was content to sip his tea and listen, glad to see Max relaxing enough to laugh.

Dinner wasn’t nearly as rowdy as a mess hall, but it had the same kind of comfort, being surrounded by people who belonged to him. For a moment, he was keenly aware of what his uncle had stolen from him.

His father had been alpha of a large pack and expected Caius to take over.

Instead, Caius had joined the Marines when he turned eighteen, needing to get away from the empty wilderness of Wyoming.

His father had been disappointed, but they’d kept in contact, up until his death four years ago.

It wasn’t until he finally returned home for the first time in nearly twenty years that he realized how deep his uncle had sunk his teeth into the pack.

In their eyes, Caius had abandoned them all for humans and their wars. The pack named Kostas their new alpha, and Caius was exiled.

A pack of four could hardly be considered a pack by most standards, but it was his. And thanks to his father’s refusal to become obsolete in the modern age, and his expectation of Caius taking over the pack, the majority of his wealth was legally transferred to Caius, despite his uncle’s betrayal.

When the war stories turned to talk of gaming, Caius grabbed a beer and slipped outside to the patio.

The temperature had dropped again, and more snow was in the forecast, but the cold didn’t bother him.

As much as he’d resented growing up away from a proper city, he preferred the deep snows found in the wilderness.

His wolf shifted restlessly inside him as he sat on the swing bench, staring out at the edge of the national park on the other side of their backyard .

He hadn’t shifted since he’d been shot with aconite. The doctors might have assured him it was safe enough, but his arm had limited range as a human. He wouldn’t be able to run as a wolf.

The door slid open, and Quinn sprawled with boneless grace in the chair next to him. “So, you gonna make a move or what?”

“Excuse me?”

Quinn snorted, running his fingers through his hair as he scanned what little they could see of the neighborhood. “C’mon, Cap. The way you two have been pining over each other is painful to watch.”

Caius frowned. “What?”

“What do you mean what?” he demanded with a wide-eyed stare. “Don’t lie to me. I can smell it on you!”

Fuck. With a huff, Caius looked away. He couldn’t deny his attraction for Max, but he was sure he’d hidden it better than that. Besides, Max got along with Quinn far better than he did anyone else. “He likes you.”

“Mmm, yeah,” Quinn said, drawing out the words. “Pretty sure he’d fall into bed with any of us. Even Lukas, eventually. But we’re not gonna make a move until you do. You bound him first, and you’re our alpha. So suck it up and bed him, yeah? I want my turn.”

He braced a hand on Caius’ shoulder and pushed to his feet. “And hurry up. The house smells like UST so bad, I’m surprised Rían hasn’t commented on it,” he added, patting Caius on the head before dancing back inside.

Caius growled and wondered if he could get a court-martial backdated. He lingered where he was, draining his beer as true night sank in. He waited until the sound of chatter faded as the others moved to Quinn’s lair for gaming before heading inside.

He intended to head straight for bed and instead found Max sitting on the sofa, watching him like a deer in headlights.

“Quinn said I should wait for you?”

Caius swallowed a sigh, unable to help the way his gaze drifted over Max.

The clothes he’d picked out suited him. Form-fitting jeans and an overlarge sweater that gave a teasing glimpse of a shoulder.

He was even experimenting with the eyeliner they’d picked up, adding an enticing smudge of darkness around his eyes to contrast with the electric blue of his nail polish .

He stepped closer, intending to shoo Max off to bed, but his fingers found their way into silky brown hair instead. “How are you settling in?”

Max blinked, his eyes owl-wide even as he leaned into the touch. “Fine,” he said, his breath hitching when Caius’ fingers ghosted against his cheek. His lips parted on his exhale, his scent changing almost immediately. There was no denying the sharp, thick tang of arousal.

He couldn’t resist stroking his thumb across Max’s lips, a quiet growl escaping him when a hot, wet tongue flicked out and tugged his finger in. “Come to bed with me,” he murmured, heat blooming in his gut when teeth scraped against his thumb.

His finger slid free when Max stood and slipped his arms around Caius’ neck with a grin before hopping and wrapping his legs around his waist. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Caius grunted at the unexpected weight, settling his hands on Max’s ass. He buried his face in Max’s neck, breathing in his scent, full of the warmth of a campfire and a hint of orange blossoms.

He turned for the stairs, ignoring the warning twinges in his left arm as he carried Max up to his bedroom.

He may not have much mobility left in it, but he could damn well handle carrying Max for a few minutes.

He kicked the door shut behind them and set Max on his feet, sliding his hands up Max’s back and around to cup his face.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmured, making sure the bond enforced his words before brushing their lips together.

Max melted into him, his hands still buried in Caius’ hair. “Don’t stop,” he breathed, tugging him closer for another kiss.

Caius groaned as Max opened for his tongue, tasting the lingering remnants of the peach ice cream he’d had for dessert. He backed Max towards the bed and hooked his fingers under Max’s sweater.

He broke the kiss long enough to pull the sweater over Max’s head, dropping it to the floor and diving back in for another.

Max shivered beneath Caius’ hands as they explored bare skin. The binding marks may have hidden most of the scars from view, but they were still there. Small bumps and uneven lines detailing a nightmare of a life.

Caius was no stranger to abuse or the malice that lived in some men, but it was something he would never comprehend.

When his hands moved to Max’s front, he found similar scars there.

He pulled back when his finger dragged across the other end of the bullet wound he’d seen the other night, glancing down as he circled it with his thumb.

“Sorry,” Max whispered, ducking his head, his scent taking on an acrid stench like he was ashamed.

“Don’t,” Caius said, grasping Max’s chin and gently forcing his head up until their eyes met. “Don’t ever apologize for someone else’s cruelty.”

Max’s eyes were suddenly too bright in the darkness, and he blinked repeatedly, struggling through several shallow breaths before nodding.

Caius kissed his forehead, his nose, lingering on his lips. He slid his hands down Max’s chest, his stomach, hooking two fingers in the front of his jeans.

Max’s grip on Caius’ arms tightened. His scent changed again, turning thick and heady with the spike of his arousal.

He popped the button with his thumb before dragging the zipper down, swallowing Max’s soft moan as he pushed both jeans and boxers until gravity did the rest. Once Max was bare, Caius chased the goose bumps rippling across exposed flesh with his fingertips.

He settled a hand on Max’s lower back before reaching for the lamp, turning it to its lowest setting, then grabbed the lube from the drawer. Then he turned and tossed the bottle onto a pillow. Once he was settled on the edge of the bed, he pulled Max down to straddle his lap.

“Caius,” Max murmured, voice pleading. He dragged his fingers down Caius’ chest, reaching the bottom of his shirt and unbuttoning it on his way back up.

Caius focused on keeping his breathing steady as Max reached the last buttons and pushed his shirt off his shoulders.

He knew Max could see the mess of his arm.

The silvery blue remnants of the aconite bullet fused with his skin glinted in the corner of his eye.

He expected questions, maybe revulsion, but Max barely slowed in his mission to remove the shirt, then bent closer to press his lips over the worst of the wound, two inches above Caius’ heart.

When Max sat up, Caius tangled a hand in his hair and dragged him in for another kiss, sliding his other hand along Max’s thigh until he could grip his ass .

Max pressed closer with a moan, rocking forward, grinding himself against Caius’ stomach. His hands roamed from arms to chest to shoulders as if unsure where to focus, leaving shivers of pleasure in their wake.

Caius pulled his hand out of Max’s hair and fumbled blindly for the lube. When he found it, he thumbed it open and squeezed too much into his palm. It took a moment to warm as he spread it over his fingers, breaking the kiss enough to watch Max’s face as he slid a finger along his cleft.

Max pushed closer with a gasp, lifting onto his knees and burying his face in Caius’ hair. “Please.”

Taking advantage of the new position, he fastened his lips to Max’s chest, trailing wet kisses from one nipple to the other as he slowly pressed a finger inside.

Fingers twisted in his hair as Max keened, bordering on the point of pain as nails left shallow scratches across his shoulders.

He growled as Max’s scent sharpened further as he alternated between pushing onto Caius’ finger and grinding into his stomach.

He needed more of that scent. Needed to bury his nose in the musk and smoke and citrus until it filled his lungs. He urged Max to lift up higher until he could take the mage into his mouth.