His breath ghosted over Ewen’s lips. “Now you have that too. It’s not just me - you have the whole pack, all twelve of us, and that’s without Lord Hades and Consort Ali, because you’d better believe they would protect and care for you as well. You have a family that will protect you, support you, and probably drive you crazy with how much they’ll meddle in our lives.”
Ewen’s chest tightened, but in a good way. “That all sounds a little overwhelming.”
“It absolutely is,” Lamont agreed. “Damon’s going to want to meet you immediately. Faron will probably try to feed you - he’s obsessed with cooking since his chef mate has been teaching him how to barbecue, so expect a trip to Australia soon. Beau’s going to give us relationship advice we didn’t ask for, oh, and wait until you meet Java’s mate, Cyril. Java owns a hotel in Greece, and Cyril owns a sweet shop about two blocks down from thehotel. Cyril is a great believer in gift baskets for any occasion. A whole pack of hellhounds, and six mates so far, and you can’t forget about the children some of them have as well. It’s chaos. Beautiful, wonderful chaos.”
“I’ve never had chaos like that before.” Ewen’s fingers curled into Lamont’s shirt, quietly glad that his mate seemed to be able to shift into a fully clothed human form. Ewen wasn’t sure he was ready for a naked Lamont. He’d like to be, but he wasn’t there quite yet. “I’ve always had to be careful. I think in the back of my mind, I always knew that one mistake could cost me everything.”
“You don’t have to be careful with me.” Lamont’s hands framed his face again. “You can make mistakes. You can be reckless. You can chase whatever story you want, and I’ll be right there backing you up because you’re mine, Ewen. My mate. My family. And I protect what’s mine.”
The certainty in Lamont’s voice broke something open in Ewen’s chest. Something that had been locked tight since his mom died, maybe even longer. Perhaps since his father first walked out, or when he learned through one mishap after another that relying on anyone but himself was a recipe for disappointment.
But Lamont wasn’t anyone. Lamont was his mate. Fated. Chosen by forces older than humanity itself.
“I want to believe you,” Ewen whispered. “I want to trust that you’ll be there. That I don’t have to do everything alone anymore.”
“Then let me prove it.” Lamont’s thumbs brushed away fresh tears. “Give me the chance to show you that I’m not going anywhere. That when I say I’ll be with you wherever you go, I mean it in every sense of the word. Hellhounds can translocate anywhere on Earth or in the Underworld. You want to chasea story in Tokyo? We’ll go. You need to interview someone in Antarctica? Pack warm clothes, and then we’ll go. You want to sit in your apartment in New York and do absolutely nothing? I’ll be right there doing nothing with you.”
Ewen laughed. “You’d really go to Antarctica?”
“I’d go anywhere for you.” Lamont said it like it was the simplest truth in the world. And for him, maybe it was. Maybe it was Ewen who was complicating things.
Ewen looked at his mate - the man who was his promised forever.I didn’t realize that the Fates meant that literally. But that’s what had happened. Lamont’s dark eyes held nothing but honesty, determination, and something that looked like wonder.
Ewen’s body was exhausted - he was definitely not ready for anything physical beyond what they were already doing. But he was seized with a sudden urge to kiss Lamont. He had to do it. He needed to close the distance between them and claim the first of what he hoped would be many kisses.
He leaned forward, slow enough that Lamont could pull back if he wanted. But Lamont didn’t move. Didn’t retreat. His eyes widened slightly, then went soft.
And then their lips met.
It wasn’t desperate or demanding – that wasn’t Ewen’s intention even if his fox was keen. But rather, Ewen was seeking connection – a gentle and soothing connection. Lamont’s mouth was warm against his, and the bond between them flared warm and comforting through Ewen’s chest. He could feel Lamont’s emotions through their bond - wonder, joy, protectiveness, and underneath it all, a bone-deep certainty that what they shared was right. Yes, his fox wanted more - he was eager for the full claim from their side, too, but for now the kiss was a hint of what would come.
Lamont’s hand cupped the back of Ewen’s head, supporting him, while the other stayed at his waist. The kiss remained soft, exploratory, a promise rather than a demand.
When they finally pulled apart, Ewen was breathing hard. Lamont looked dazed, his eyes darker than before.
“That was...” Lamont’s voice was rough.
“Yep, it sure was,” Ewen agreed, not trusting himself to form complete sentences.
Lamont pulled him close again, tucking Ewen’s head under his chin. “Sleep, hon. You need to heal, and I’ll make sure there’s more food ready for you when you wake up. Hopefully Lord Hades will let you sleep longer than a few hours this time.”
“Just make sure I have clothes on if we’re making another visit there again.” Ewen managed a grin to show he was teasing, but then he felt another wave of anxiety again.
“Will you stay?” Even as he asked, Ewen knew he was being ridiculous. Lamont had already promised never to leave. But clearly it would take some time before his insecurities could be tucked away.
“Always,” Lamont said simply. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”
Chapter Eleven
Three days felt like both a heartbeat and a lifetime. Lamont had spent most of that time watching Ewen eat and sleep, marveling at how quickly the shifter’s body recovered now that they were bonded and Ewen had access to plenty of food. Between meals and naps, they’d traded stories. Ewen’s journalistic path was similar to Lamonts. He spoke of investigative work that exposed corrupt city officials, mostly, but also of stories that highlighted the plight of underserved populations.
Lamont countered his mate’s stories with a few of his own. How his coverage of historical discoveries had led to pages of academic argument that ultimately rewrote textbooks. He also shared stories about his packmates and their time in the Underworld. How they would be chasing errant spirits across the wasteland some days, and piled up in a heap of fur in front of the gates on others - listening to Cerberus grumble if one of them started farting.
It’d been fun. They’d laughed a lot of times, and yet their silences were always comfortable. Lamont noticed that Ewen didn’t say anything else about his captivity, or the story he had been working on, and he recognized that secrecy for what it was. Ewen would share when he was ready, and Lamont was fine with that. Pushing wouldn’t help - Lamont had already learned his mate could be stubborn.
After breakfast on day three, when Ewen demolished three omelets, toast, and enough bacon to feed a small army, his mate set down his fork with a decisive clink.
“Can you click me up some clothes? Is that allowed, or can you only click things for yourself?”
