Thankfully, by the time Quin was done, it appeared the triad might actually have heeded his warning. Kit, however, wasstanding rooted to the spot in the open door, his arms folded and lips pressed into a flat line. “That did nothing for me, in case you were wondering.”
“No wondering here,” Quin assured him, washing his hands and judging the cottage owner’s choice of an overpoweringly pungent rose-scented hand wash. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I didn’t want you to piss on me, or vice versa.”
“I dunno,” Kit said, scuffing a toe on the tile floor. “I thought it might have been like the foot thing. You know, where you say you’re not into feet, but it kind of feels like you’re into feet. Even now, you’re looking at my foot.”
Quin mock-glared at him. “You moved it deliberately. That’s entrapment.”
“I wonder if foot fetish is on DJ’s bingo card. I bet he really has one,” Kit mused as Quin dried his hands. “And Rake for sure has a to-dolist. He’d have ticked orgy off the other night.”
Quin huffed with laughter. It hurt his tender throat, but it was worth it to see Kit smile in response. Those lips turned down, though, as Quin studied himself in the mirror, touching a finger to his throat.
“I was as gentle as possible,” Kit said.
“I know, baby. It’s not that obvious.” Quin’s throat didn’t look half as bad as he’d expected based on how it felt. It was red, sure, but the marks were unlikely to be noticed by anyone.
“I still did it to you.”
Quin met Kit’s eyes in his reflection. “You know I don’t mind.”
Kit flew forward and wrapped his arms around Quin, burying his face in his back. “I never wanted to hurt you,” Kit said, his voice muffled.
Quin turned around and drew Kit into his chest instead, loving the feel of Kit’s body against his own. He’d missed it, even though it had been such a short time since he’d last heldhim. “I know, baby boy,” he murmured into Kit’s hair, “I’d never intentionally hurt you either. I’m just a stupid idiot who can’t stop getting possessed.”
Kit drew his head back and looked up at Quin, brows in an unhappy furrow. “You’re not stupid, nor an idiot, Quin. Don’t say that about yourself.”
Quin’s cheeks heated. “I mean?—”
“No,” Kit interrupted. “You wouldn’t let me say something like that about myself. It goes both ways.”
“Well, I can’t argue with that, can I?”
A satisfied smile spread across Kit’s face. “Glad we’ve come to an accord.” His gaze flicked to the high strip of bathroom window. “The sun’s up soon.”
As if on cue, Quin yawned. “I’m down for a nap.”
After a quick check-in with the others, Quin and Kit settled into the bed. The mattress was too soft, and the duvet too heavy, but Quin was cuddling Kit close, so nothing else mattered. Kit’s fingers traced patterns on Quin’s chest as they lay there. Dawn approached, and as the sun rose, Kit fell into his inhuman sleep. Even then,especiallythen, Quin didn’t let him go. He couldn’t.
Dozing and on the verge of unconsciousness, something under Quin’s skin itched. A stirring. An inkling. A mere suggestion of another presence.
His last thought was that he only needed to get through one more day, and then he and Kit would have as many nights together as they wanted.
When Quin next woke up, it was with a great deal less panic than the time before. Quin reached over and put on the small lamp on the bedside table, bathing the room in artificial yellow light.Kit’s skin looked sallow. It unnerved Quin to see just howdeadKit appeared whilst in this state. He resisted the urge to check Kit’s pulse and settled for untangling a twiddled curl as opposed to looking for signs of life.
Given his stomach’s grumbling, he wasn’t surprised to find he’d slept till mid-afternoon when he checked his phone. As soon as he could bear to tear himself away from the bed, he went for a shower to combat his lingering grogginess. The shower head was too low for him to fit under, but the lukewarm water went some way to refreshing him.
The ring on his finger had now darkened to midnight black, stark against the white tile of the shower. A single shallow crack split the metal on the underside of the ring, right across all three bands. Whatever magic Xavier had infused the jewellery with had to be waning.
Quin decided then and there that getting away from the cottage—and from a defenceless Kit—was the best way to protect them all. After a perfunctory clean, he got out of the shower and threw on some clothes. A quick kiss to Kit’s forehead, and Quin followed his instincts to leave. He texted Kit as he went out the door, letting him know he’d gone out in case he wasn’t back before nightfall.
It was a grey day, the sun hidden behind thick swathes of cloud. The cool weather allowed Quin to wear the collar of his jacket turned up to hide the bruising left by Kit’s fingers. He looked up the location of the closest cafe and headed in the direction on foot, appreciating the fresh air and the chance to stretch his legs. He used the walk to get used to his own body again, a bit like how he did after changing back to his human form after the full moon.
Except, there was a stark difference between spending time as his wolf and being Lawrence’s bodysuit. Quin had always seen himself as subservient to the moon; never in control of himself,even when not in his beast form. Ironic that it took being possessed to show him just how in charge he was. At least when the full moon reigned, Quin’s thoughts and actions were his own, albeit a more instinctual, base version of them. His beast didn’t force him to do anything his human side would abhor.
With the benefit of hindsight, it was easy to see that his relationship with Lark also hadn’t helped. Whenever he’d berated himself for being stupid, Lark had never bothered to disabuse him of the idea like Kit did. Quin balanced Kit, and Kit did the same for him. Until Lawrence’s possession, Quin had become comfortable in his own skin for the first time in recent memory. And not only his human skin, but his wolf, too. The other part of him, just as undeniable as his love for Kit.
Quin missed running under the light of the moon. The notion hit him with such suddenness that he almost stumbled as he walked down the street. He’d never before longed to be at one with his wolf, and yet, he craved the freedom it would offer him. Freedom to run with Kit all night, to keep up with him, to bond as the creatures they both were.
After a greasy all-day breakfast, he took a stroll around the little town, head still tumbling with thoughts. He wanted to waste as much time as possible, but there was little to be seen; a few shops here and there, a small park with a war monument, and an old church with the spire obscured by scaffolding. He wandered into a promising-looking gallery, and was rewarded with a plethora of local art pieces. His distraction for the afternoon would be picking up something for Kit.
