The tiger released Bennett’s body, which crumpled to the floor in a way that made it clear there would be no getting back up. No regeneration. No supernatural healing. Just death, final and absolute.
Then Kivani was human again, naked and splattered with blood that wasn't his own. His eyes found Dakota immediately, the rage draining from his expression to be replaced by something that looked like anguish.
“Dakota.” He crossed the room in three strides, dropping to his knees beside where Dakota still lay sprawled on the floor. “God, Dakota, I’m so sorry. I heard you scream, and I came as fast as I could.”
His hands hovered over Dakota’s body, like he wanted to touch but was afraid of causing more damage. Dakota tried to speak, to tell Kivani it was okay, that he was here now, but his voice had abandoned him completely. All that came out was a whimper that made Kivani’s face crumple further.
“Your throat.” Kivani’s attention fixed on the wound, his jaw clenching. “He bit you. That bastard actually bit you.”
Dakota’s hand came up to touch the puncture wounds, but Kivani caught his wrist gently before he could make contact.
“Don’t touch it yet.” Kivani’s voice was soft now, careful, like he was talking to something fragile. “I need to seal it. It’s going to feel strange, but I promise it will help. Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
Kivani lapped at the wound, and Dakota felt it closing. He clung to Kivani, never wanting to let him go.
Chapter Ten
Kivani watched Dakota push pasta around his plate, the fork making soft scraping sounds against ceramic. Three weeks had passed since Bennett’s attack, and this was the first meal where Dakota had actually finished what was on his plate without Kivani having to coax him through every bite. The improvement was small, barely noticeable to anyone who hadn't been watching with the kind of obsessive attention Kivani couldn’t help but pay, but it was there.
Dakota’s shoulders had lost some of their permanent tension. The dark circles under his eyes had faded to something closer to normal. He’d started sleeping through the night again. Kivani knew because his mate had been doing it in Kivani’s bed, tucked against his side where the tiger could monitor every breath.
“That was really good,” Dakota said, setting his fork down with a small smile that made something in Kivani’s ribs loosen. “I didn’t know you could make carbonara.”
“YouTubetutorial,” Kivani admitted, collecting both their plates and carrying them to the sink. “Figured we’d been ordering out too much.”
The truth was Kivani had been searching for things that might tempt Dakota’s appetite back to life. Had spent hours scrolling through recipes, trying to remember what his mate had enjoyed before Bennett had left him bleeding on his apartment floor. The carbonara had been a gamble, rich and heavy, but Dakota had eaten every bite.
Small victories. Kivani was learning to celebrate them.
He washed the dishes while Dakota moved to the couch, his tiger rumbling contentment at the domestic scene. His mate was here, safe, healing slowly but steadily. Bennett was dead and rotting, his body disposed of where no one would ever find it. Everything Kivani had wanted, except for the shadows that still lived in Dakota’s eyes sometimes when he thought Kivani wasn't looking.
If Kivani could have killed Bennett again, he would have. Would have made it slower, more painful, would have drawn out every second to match the terror Dakota had experienced. His tiger snarled at the memory, at the scent of Dakota’s blood and fear that had driven Kivani across the hall at a dead sprint.
But Bennett was gone. All Kivani could do now was help Dakota heal.
He dried his hands and joined Dakota on the couch, settling close enough that their thighs pressed together. Dakota leaned into him immediately, the gesture automatic now after weeks of Kivani being his primary source of comfort. His mate’s head found Kivani’s shoulder, hair tickling his jaw, and he wrapped an arm around those slim shoulders.
“Want to watch something?” He reached for the remote with his free hand. “There’s a new season of that baking show you like.”
“Sure.” Dakota’s fingers found Kivani’s shirt, twisting in the fabric. “But can we just sit here for a minute first?”
“As long as you want.” Kivani set the remote back down and let himself just hold his mate. He felt the steady rhythm of Dakota’s breathing, the warmth of his body, the way his mate fit against his side like he’d been designed for exactly that purpose.
“Kivani?” Dakota’s voice was soft, but there was steel underneath it. The strength that had been missing for weeks, returning piece by piece.
“Yeah?”
“I want to be your mate.” Dakota pulled back enough to meet Kivani’s eyes, his expression open and certain in a way that made Kivani’s tiger surge forward with approval. “Actually your mate. The bonded kind. Whatever that means for shifters, I want it.”
Kivani’s breath stopped in his throat. His hands tightened on Dakota’s shoulders, his brain trying to process words he’d been hoping to hear but hadn't dared push for. “You’re sure? You don’t have to decide that right now. There’s no timeline.”
“I’m sure.” Dakota’s hand came up to cup Kivani’s face, his thumb brushing across his jaw. “I’ve had three weeks to think about it. About what I want, what I need, what makes sense. And the answer is you. It’s always been you.”
The conviction in Dakota’s voice made something primal roar to life in Kivani’s hindbrain. His tiger pushed forward, demanding he act on what was being offered, claim his mate properly and permanently. But Kivani forced himself to stay still, to make sure Dakota understood what he was asking for.
“The bond is permanent,” he said, his voice rough. “Once it’s sealed, it can’t be undone. You’ll be tied to me for the rest of your life.”
