“One day, we’ll finish this,” Keon promised, delighting in the drag of Milo’s tongue against his cheek. A definitiveyesin their new secret code.
A surge of adrenaline and joy flooded him when he was with Milo. A sensation he normally got from running as his m’weko. Being in Milo’s presence eased a forgotten piece inside and reminded him what a mating was supposed to be. Not the screaming matches and frustration of being around Vega, and not the hurtful words slung like weapons.
Thiswas a real mating. Playful, sweet, sultry. Spending time basking in every touch. Kissing Milo was luscious and irresistible. He wanted to sink into the sensation and never surrender the right to kiss him.
Milo whispered, as Keon looked him in the eye, “I want what you said.” He looked scared, like he’d said the wrong words, but he didn’t wait for reassurance. “I wanteverythingyou said. To be the one to take care of the pack, to be the doctor and your mate. To be yours,” he confessed, brushing fingertips against Keon’s jaw.
“Okay,” he agreed, proud he’d admitted it. “We’ll need a suitable building for a doctor’s surgery.”
Milo rolled his eyes. “I should refresh my first aid, first.”
Wriggling his eyebrows, Keon teased, “Want to practice the kiss of life?” The words earned him the push of a palm against his chest. Inspired, he lay back to enjoy the sunlight before returning to the house and responsibility.
Milo pulled one leg beneath him, in a half-lotus, and brushed his thumb against a cut on his calf, from when he dropped his coffee mug onto the counter while pulling it from the upper cupboard.
Keon instinctively mimicked his position and took Milo’s hands. He’d been angry, upset. Hurt. His fingers had spasmed from a twitching nerve. The mug had slipped innocently from his hands and landed on the counter from a height, shattering into pieces. Milo had shouted in frustration, fumbled to salvage the broken pieces skittering across the counter to the floor. He’d been a mess of self-hatred and anger, for breaking something Milo claimed didn’t belong to him. Moving toward the counter to catch the falling shards, he’d gotten too close. The shards left a pattern of cuts and scrapes against his bare legs, as Milo had been wearing boxers in his attempt to surprise Keon with breakfast in bed.
The way Milo looked, Keon could tell he felt guilty. “What is it?” he asked to remind him he’d been about to ask a question.
Milo risked a glance. “After we’re mated and it’s official, will you teach me to fight?”
“What?”
“During the challenge, you fought Usher with confidence, not arrogance. Youknewyou could take him by surprise. I’ve never seen the moves you used.”
Surprised, Keon realised it made sense. Milo’s injuries came from a fight to the death, and he must have known fighting techniques to win. But that was pre-injury, and his body was different now. If he wanted Keon to teach him more, he’d do his best.
Milo twined his fingers through Keon’s. “Would I need to use my legs?”
Keon turned their hands and linked their fingers, mentally scrolling through the possibilities. “Humans have sporting competitions for people with disabilities. Drew and I watched a wheelchair boxing match once.” He recalled a fight they’d found online while checking the score for a boxing match. Hope lit Milo’s eyes, beautiful and welcome. “It’s normally two people in wheelchairs, but I’ve seen a guy train against a standing sparring-partner,” he continued, aware it would require more research. “Being me, I’d throw in dirty tricks for defence purposes, of course.”
Milo broke the distance between them to place a kiss on his lips. “Thank you.”
Keon shrugged, because it wasn’t a big deal. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” Whether safe from the limitations of his body or the world, he wasn’t sure. He’d do anything to keep Milo from harm, as long as it was in his power.
Milo remained close enough to kiss, eyes wide with emotion. “I trust you.”
*
Milo
RETURNING HOME, MILOfelt light as a feather. The day he’d spent with Keon had been wonderful, calming, relaxing—everything he’d needed to get his mind away from the chaos of the pack, and responsibility. He’d barely noticed his pains, aches, and fatigue, which was a near miracle.
As he shut the door, and Keon lifted a pile of papers from the small hallway table, the sound of voices caught Milo’s attention. Keon was already two steps along the corridor towards the kitchen when he paused, glancing back at Milo.
“You underestimate him,” Weston insisted, exasperated.
As Keon stepped towards the living room, Milo caught his arm and shook his head. He hated eavesdropping, but was curious what this was about: who Weston might be talking about, and whether it might help him gain insight into how Haley was settling into the pack.
So far, she resisted every effort. Keon’s kindness was ignored, invitations to spend time together were scoffed at, or she made arrangements with other people.
“Keon cares deeply for Milo, and I believe the affection is returned with sincerity,” Weston insisted though Haley’s huff was clearly audible.
“They barely know each other.”
“How well do true mates know each other when they first experience the bond?” Weston retaliated, his natural knowing Beta tone sounding less kind and teasing than usual. “Some trust in the bond so severely they skip the courting period, unless advised otherwise by the Alpha. Some feel an obligation to accept their true mate and never stop to learn who that person is beyond the mate bond.” With a heavy sigh, his voice gentled, though Milo wished he could see Haley’s reaction.
“The bond can be overpowering, even terrifying. I have seen couples accept the bond when they should run far away and others, who would make a perfect pairing, reject the bond or be denied their bond for reasons beyond their control.”
