“I know, right?” Sonny scratched behind the male’s only ear. “They need real names. Names that match who they actually are.”
Reese extended his hand slowly, letting the female sniff him. She leaned into the touch when he scratched under her jaw, her tail wagging harder. “She’s a fighter. Delilah.”
The name settled over the female dog like it had been waiting for her all along. Sonny’s bunny recognized the rightness of it, the way it transformed her from a victim into something stronger. “Delilah,” he repeated. “Yeah. That works.”
Reese moved to the male, who immediately tried to lick his hand. “And he’s got the build of a warrior under all that damage. Hercules.”
“Delilah and Hercules.” Sonny tested both names, feeling how they fit. They were perfect. They gave the dogs an identity beyond their suffering, beyond what the hyenas had tried to make them into. “Those are their names now. Their real names.”
The male, Hercules, seemed to approve. He wiggled on his back, his tail thumping against the concrete. Delilah had relaxed completely against Reese’s hand, her eyes half closed in contentment. Both dogs had accepted Sonny’s mate without hesitation, which should’ve been surprising given what they’d been through. But his bunny understood. They recognized safety the same way Sonny did, on an instinctive level that went deeper than logic.
“We need to get them to the vet.” Reese straightened in one fluid motion, his size once again dwarfing Sonny. “Can they walk to the truck?”
“Hercules can. Delilah’s leg is getting worse.” Sonny hovered his hands over her injured limb. “I can carry her.”
Reese made a sound low in his throat that might’ve been disagreement. Before Sonny could process it, his mate had bent down and scooped Delilah into his arms. The dog should’ve panicked, should’ve fought against being held by a predator shifter this powerful.
Instead, she settled against Reese’s broad chest, head tucking under his jaw.
Warmth spread through Sonny. His mate was holding a traumatized fighting dog with a gentleness that contradicted everything about his size. Delilah trusted him completely, practically melting in his arms. The image burned itself into Sonny’s mind.
“Come on, Hercules.” Sonny stood on legs that felt like jelly and started toward the gate. The male followed without hesitation, his determined gait uneven from his poorly healed ribs. They made it to the truck as a small group, Sonny opening the back door so Reese could settle Delilah on the seat.
Hercules needed help climbing in. Sonny lifted his back end while the dog scrambled with his front legs, both of them working together until he made it onto the seat beside Delilah. The two dogs immediately pressed against each other, seeking comfort in familiar contact.
“They’ll be okay back here?” Sonny’s hands lingered on the door frame, reluctant to close it and separate himself from the dogs even for the drive.
“They’ll be fine.” Reese was already moving toward the driver’s side. “Hop in.”
Very funny.
Sonny climbed back into the passenger seat. The truck now smelled like dog in addition to Reese. A combination that should’ve been unpleasant but just made everything feel more real. He twisted around to check on Delilah and Hercules, needing to see them, to confirm they were actually there.
Both dogs had settled, their eyes half closed. Delilah’s breathing had evened out despite her pain. Hercules had tucked his nose against her shoulder. They looked almost peaceful, which was more than Sonny had been able to give them in weeks of trying.
The drive to the veterinary clinic took less than ten minutes. Reese navigated the streets with the same controlled confidence, his presence filling the truck cab until Sonny felt cocooned by it.
Protected.
His bunny kept trying to completely relax, to lower defenses he’d been clinging to for days, but his human brain kept insisting on constant alertness.
His mate pulled into a lot next to a Victorian painted house the color of a robin’s egg, complete with white trim that made it look sort of like a wedding cake. A sign out front read Crimson Hollow Veterinary Clinic in cheerful script, and there was even a picket fence, along with a small parking lot beside it.
Lights were on inside despite the late hour. Reese parked near the front entrance and killed the engine.
“Wait here.” Reese was already opening his door, already moving with that purposeful stride that suggested he expected to be obeyed.
Sonny waited approximately three seconds before twisting around to check on the dogs again. Delilah had lifted her head, her ears perked toward the clinic. Hercules was panting, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.
Both dogs looked anxious, bodies tense.
“It’s okay,” Sonny murmured softly. “This is a good place. They’re going to help you feel better.”
He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince the dogs or himself. Veterinary clinics meant strangers touching them, examining their wounds, possibly causing pain in the process of healing. Delilah and Hercules had been hurt for weeks. Trusting new people was asking a lot of them.
Chapter Two
The clinic door opened, and Reese emerged with a man wearing scrubs. The stranger had the kind of gentle face that probably made animals trust him immediately.
