Grayson smiled against his mouth. Ryan’s fingers traced along his jaw, his touch gentle. The fear scent was completely gone now, replaced by satisfaction and something deeper. Something that made Grayson’s lion settle with contentment.
“What about you?” Ryan’s hand moved down between them, reaching for Grayson’s cock. “You’re still—”
“Later.” Grayson caught his wrist, stopping the movement. His dick ached, hard enough that it hurt, but this wasn't about him. This was about making Ryan feel safe. Making him forget the threats, if only for a little while.
“That seems unfair.” Ryan tried to push his hand lower, but Grayson held firm. “You just blew my mind and possibly my soul out through my dick. The least I can do is reciprocate.”
“Later, sweetheart,” Grayson repeated. He pulled Ryan against him, tucking him into the curve of his body. Ryan went easily, his breathing still uneven.
“You’re bossy,” Ryan mumbled. His eyes were already drifting closed, exhaustion finally winning. “I should probably have opinions about that, but I’m too blissed out to care.”
Grayson ran his hand down Ryan’s back, feeling the knobs of his vertebrae. His mate was small against him, fragile in a way that made his protective instincts roar. Nothing would hurt him. Nothing would get close enough to try.
“Sleep,” Grayson murmured against Ryan’s hair.
“Sleeping,” Ryan agreed. His voice was already thick with it. “This is me sleeping. Excellent sleeping happening right now.”
Grayson continued the slow strokes down Ryan’s back, feeling the moment his breathing evened out. His mate was safe, in his bed, in his arms, where he belonged. The threats still existed. The hyenas still planned whatever violence they thought would get their property back. But right now, in this moment, Ryan was safe.
Grayson’s hand stilled on Ryan’s back. The room was quiet except for Ryan’s breathing and the distant sound of the others moving around downstairs. Grayson’s dick was still hard, aching with need, but he ignored it. Later. After Ryan slept. After the immediate danger passed.
His mate sighed in his sleep and pressed closer. Grayson tightened his arm around him, his nose buried in Ryan’s hair, the fruity scent of his shampoo now mixed with sweat and satisfaction. Grayson breathed it in, letting it settle something restless in his gut.
Tomorrow would bring new problems. The hyenas wouldn’t give up. They'd push harder and try to find weaknesses to exploit. But they wouldn’t find any. Grayson would make sure of it.
Ryan shifted slightly, his hand curling against Grayson’s ribs. Even in sleep, he held on. Like he knew on some instinctive level that Grayson would keep him safe. The trust in that gesture made something fierce and tender rise in Grayson’s throat.
His mate. Finally.
Grayson closed his eyes and let himself drift. Not sleep, not yet, but something close to it. His senses stayed alert, tracking the sounds of the house. Reese moving in the kitchen. Malik's fingers on his keyboard. Colton's footsteps on the back deck. Everything normal. Everything secure.
Ryan’s breathing deepened further in his complete surrender to sleep, to safety. Grayson’s hand resumed the slow circles on his back, an unconscious soothing motion. His mate needed rest. Needed to recover from the fear that had been eating at him all evening.
The threats would come tomorrow. Tonight, Ryan could sleep.
Chapter Seven
Ryan jolted awake to the sound of glass shattering somewhere in the house. His heart slammed into his throat. For a moment he couldn’t remember where he was, why he was naked in an unfamiliar bed, why someone else's heat radiated against his back.
Then it all came rushing back. Grayson’s house. The threats. Everything that had happened before they'd fallen asleep.
Shouting came from outside. Male voices, harsh and aggressive. The sound of something heavy hitting the side of the house made Ryan flinch against Grayson, who was already moving, already pulling away from him and rolling out of bed with a speed that seemed impossible for someone who'd been asleep seconds ago.
“Stay here.” Grayson’s voice came out different. Lower. Almost growling. He was reaching for his jeans, yanking them on with movements so fast Ryan could barely track them. “Don't leave this room. Do you understand me?”
“What’s happening?” Ryan sat up, clutching the sheet to his lap even though that seemed ridiculous given what they'd done an hour ago. His hands were shaking. The fear he’d managed to forget came roaring back, worse than before. “Is it them? The people who sent the text?”
More shouting. Closer now. Ryan could hear Reese's voice, deep and commanding, yelling something Ryan couldn’t make out. Then came another crash, this one loud enough to rattle the window in its frame.
“Stay here,” Grayson repeated. He was already moving toward the door, his feet bare, his torso still naked. “Lock the door behind me. Don't open it for anyone except me.”
“Wait, you can’t just—” But Grayson was gone, disappearing into the hallway at a run. His footsteps pounded down the stairs, impossibly fast, impossibly quiet despite his size.
Ryan sat frozen in the bed for approximately three seconds. The sheet was still clutched in his hands. His heart was trying to beat its way past his ribs. More sounds came from outside. Snarling now, actual snarling, like animals fighting, like something from a nature documentary about predators.
Stay here, Grayson had said. Lock the door. Don't leave.
Ryan was already scrambling out of bed, his legs tangling in the sheet. He hit the floor on his hands and knees, the hardwood cold against his bare skin. His clothes were somewhere in the darkness. His jeans. His shirt. Where had Grayson thrown them?
