And then Lo-Ren looked at me—atme, not just at the situation or the body we share—and she saw someone worth fighting for.
“I get it,” I say, and I mean it with everything in me. “And I’m sorry. For not giving you the benefit of the doubt sooner. And for believing Father’s poison about who you are instead of seeing you for myself.”
I pause, then push through the discomfort of vulnerability. “We didn’t have to live so long with all that acrimony between us.”
I meet his eyes in the mirror. “You’re a good man, Remus. Better than I gave you credit for. And I see that now. I seeyounow.”
For a moment, his expression goes soft. Almost tender.
Then he ruins it. “Don’t start that now and make me regret keeping you around.”
Our tail swings up to smack me again, but this time I’m ready. I catch it mid-strike and toss it away, standing up as I laugh—actually laugh—at his predictability.
“Don’t be so transparent,” I tell him. “Your enemy will see it coming a mile away.”
“Who said you’re my enemy?” he mutters, but there’s no heat in it.
“You’re getting quite proficient with the tail control, though,” I admit. “The dexterity is impressive.”
I can practically feel his ego inflating through our shared body.
“So.” I head toward the bathroom, where the shower is still running and Lo-Ren is still humming. “Why don’t we see if our woman wants some company?”
“Finally,” Remus says, “something worthwhile comes out of that mouth.”
Our tail whips excitedly behind us, and I don’t bother pointing out that he’s the one controlling it.
The bathroom isthick with steam, the mirror completely fogged over. I can see Lo-Ren’s silhouette through the frosted glass of the shower door—curves I’ve memorized, movements that make my chest tight with want.
I shed our clothes and pull the door open.
She turns, water cascading down her body, and smiles at me.Thatsmile. The one that says she knows exactly what I’m thinking and she’s thinking it too.
“Hey, handsome,” she says, eyes trailing down. “Couldn’t wait your turn?”
“It’s technically my turn for another twenty minutes,” I point out as I step into the spray. “I’m simply optimizing my allocated time.”
She laughs, that bright, unguarded sound that still catches me off guard. “God, you’re such a strategist about it. Just admit you missed me.”
“I saw you forty-five minutes ago.”
“And?”
I pull her against me, skin slick and warm. “And I missed you.”
“There we go.” She goes up on her toes to kiss me, and I lose myself in her taste, her touch, and the way she melts against me like I’m the only solid thing in her world.
We’ve made love dozens of times now. I’ve mapped every inch of her body, and I’ve learned every sound she makes and exactly how to make her come apart in my arms.
And it never stops feeling like a miracle.
That she wantsme. Not just Remus, though she wants him too. Not just the body we share or the power we command. She wantsme—my careful planning, my measured responses, my tendency to overthink everything.
She sees my need for control and doesn’t shame me for it. She just sets boundaries and trusts me to respect them.
“Romulus,” she says against my mouth, hands sliding down my chest. “You’re thinking too much again.”
“Impossible,” I murmur, kissing along her jaw. “I’m thinking the perfect amount.”
