“Calm down, idiot, and focus on more important things, like the dogs,” he muttered.
In bare feet, he headed into the hallway, shutting the door behind him. Where was Reese? Had he slept in the same bed last night, rising before Sonny had woken up?
The dogs. The thought shoved everything else to the back of his mind, his focus returning to Delilah and Hercules. They needed him more than Sonny needed to process his feelings about borrowed sweatpants and his mate’s whereabouts.
As he made his way downstairs, Sonny noticed how quiet the house was. His hand trailed along the banister, smooth wood under his palm. Everything here felt solid, like the people who lived here had put down roots and weren’t planning to move anytime soon. The concept was foreign to Sonny, who’d spent the last few years bouncing between temporary situations.
The guest room door stood slightly ajar. He pushed it wider and stepped inside, eyes adjusting to the dimmer light. Both dogs lifted their heads when he entered, tails beating out a rhythm on the bed as they wagged. They were still pressed together, exactly where he’d left them last night.
Ryan was there too, sitting cross-legged on the floor near the dogs. He looked up when Sonny entered, his expression shifting from focused to welcoming. “Morning. I was just about to give them their meds.”
Sonny relaxed at the sight of them looking relatively comfortable. Delilah’s injured leg was still swollen but no worse than yesterday. Hercules was breathing easier, the pain medication probably helping with his damaged ribs. Both animals looked cleaner than they had, like someone had taken the time to wipe down their coats.
“You been here all night?” Sonny moved farther into the room and dropped to his knees beside the dogs, his hands immediately moving over them to check for problems.
“Most of it.” Ryan reached for the medication bottles lined up on the floor beside him. “I dozed in the chair for a few hours but wanted to make sure they were okay. The female, Delilah, she was restless around three. Kept trying to get up and walk around.”
Guilt twisted in Sonny’s stomach. He’d been asleep upstairs in a comfortable bed while the dogs needed monitoring. While Ryan, who had no obligation to help, had stayed up most of the night watching them. “I should have been here. You shouldn’t have had to do that alone.”
“You were asleep before you hit the stairs.” Ryan’s lips quivered, like he was holding back a smile. “Besides, I don’t mind. Animals are kind of my thing.”
Sonny probed Delilah’s injured leg, checking the swollen tissue. The infection felt stable, not spreading but not improving either. The antibiotics needed more time to work. He moved to Hercules next, checking the male’s ribs, feeling for any signs of what the vet warned about.
“Dr. Sullivan is good at what he does.” Ryan was measuring out liquid medication. “If he says they’ll be okay with proper care, he means it. The man’s never wrong about animals.”
“How long have you worked with him?” Sonny accepted the syringe Ryan handed him and positioned himself near Delilah’s head. The dog’s mouth opened without protest when he pressed the syringe against her gums, letting him squirt the antibiotics inside. Good girl. She was learning to trust the medicine would help.
“About two years. I’m his vet tech.” Ryan prepared the next dose, this one for Hercules.
Sonny handed the empty syringe back and took the full one. The male dog was more suspicious of the medication, trying to turn his head away. Sonny had to be patient, waiting for the right moment to get the syringe into his mouth. “You live here though. With Grayson and the others.”
Something soft crossed Ryan’s expression, made his features go warm in a way that suggested feelings ran deep. “Grayson told me you were a shifter. He’s my mate. I’m still getting used to the whole forever-person thing but it’s good. Really good.”
“Is it weird?” Sonny stayed busy with the dogs, giving Hercules scratches behind his one ear. “Being human and having a shifter mate?”
“It was, at first,” Ryan admitted. “But I’ve never been with anyone who treats me the way Grayson does.”
Sonny relaxed against the bed, thinking of Reese and wondering if his mate would ask him to move in. Seemed the logical thing to do, but Sonny never trusted logical.
Chapter Four
After the dogs were loaded into the truck, Reese climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, the sound rumbling through the cab.
The drive to the clinic didn’t take long. Sonny spent most of it watching the streets of Crimson Hollow pass them by. Sunlight glinted off surfaces as people walked on the sidewalks with coffee cups and shopping bags. Dogs on leashes. Kids on bikes. Normal things in small towns where the residents didn’t have to run from hyena shifters.
Sonny plucked at the fabric of the sweatpants, Reese’s scent clinging to the fabric. That clean cold scent that made his bunny want to curl up and stay there. His mate drove, large hands steady on the wheel. His eyes tracked the road and the mirrors and probably a hundred other things.
At least the bear was cautious.
“You’re staring.” Reese’s deep, smooth voice cut through the quiet cab.
Busted. Heat rushed to Sonny’s face. He quickly glanced away, concentrating on the glove compartment instead. “I wasn’t staring. I was just looking. There’s a difference.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Staring implies intensity. I was casually observing.” Sonny could feel his ears burning now. His dang mouth kept moving without permission. “You know, the way one observes traffic patterns. Or cloud formations. Nothing weird about it.”
Reese made an amused sound as the corner of his mouth quirked. “Cloud formations.”
