“You’re not having a stroke.”
“How would you know? Maybe this is what strokes feel like. Maybe my brain is dying and hallucinating that my sort-of boyfriend turns into a lion and fights hyenas in the backyard.” Ryan pushed off from the doorframe and started pacing. The movement was jerky, uncoordinated. “Hyenas. There were hyenas. In Crimson Hollow. Where hyenas definitely do not live. Unless they’re also shifters. Oh god, they’re also shifters, aren't they?”
“Yes.” Grayson watched him pace. Five steps one direction, five steps back. Ryan’s feet were bare, his shirt inside out. He looked young and lost and terrified, and Grayson wanted to pull him close and promise that everything would make sense eventually.
“Cool. Great. Fantastic.” Ryan’s hands moved through his hair, tugging at the strands. “So shifters are real. Multiple kinds of shifters. And some of them are hyenas who apparently run illegal dog fighting rings, because why not? Let’s just throw that into the mix. This day just keeps getting better.”
Grayson moved toward him slowly. Ryan stopped pacing, his eyes tracking the approach. The fear scent spiked for a moment then settled. His mate was learning to trust him even now, even after seeing what he really was.
“The hyena pack runs the fighting operation,” Grayson said. He kept his voice level, factual. Ryan needed information right now, not emotion. “They use dogs because it’s profitable and because they can. We raided their operation to get the dogs out.”
Ryan’s expression did something complicated. The fear was still there, but something else moved across his features. Something harder. His eyes darkened, his mouth pressing into a thin line. “They’re shifters. They can turn into hyenas. And they’re using dogs for fighting.”
“Yes.”
“Dogs who can’t defend themselves. Who can’t fight back against people who can literally become predators.” Ryan’s voice dropped lower. The tremor had disappeared, replaced by something cold. “They’re taking innocent animals and putting them through that. For money.”
Grayson watched the transformation happen. His mate was still scared, still processing impossible information, but the anger cut through everything else. Ryan cared more about those dogs than his own safety, more about their suffering than the danger he was in.
“We’re shutting them down,” Grayson said. “That’s why they came here tonight. Why they sent you that text. They want their property back, and they’re willing to hurt anyone to get it.”
Ryan stood very still. His breathing had evened out, the panic receding. He looked at Grayson with eyes that seemed older than they had an hour ago. “You brought those dogs to the clinic knowing this would happen. Knowing they'd come after anyone involved.”
It wasn't a question, but Grayson answered anyway. “I didn’t know they had your information. Didn’t know they'd move this fast.” The admission tasted like failure. He should have protected Ryan better, should have anticipated the hyenas would target the weakest link.
“But you knew it was dangerous.” Ryan took a step closer. Then another. The fear scent had faded to almost nothing, replaced by something Grayson couldn’t quite identify. “That’s why you were so confident about protecting me. Because you’re a lion. Because you have a whole pride of shifters backing you up.”
“Yes.” There was no point in lying. Ryan had seen everything. Had watched Grayson shift, had seen him fight. The truth was out now, for better or worse.
Ryan closed the remaining distance between them. Because he was smaller than Grayson, he had to tilt his head back to maintain eye contact. His hands were still shaking slightly, but his gaze was steady. “What else aren't you telling me? About what’s happening with the pack, with any of this?”
“A lot.” Grayson met his eyes, let him see the honesty there. “There are things you don't need to know. Things that would put you in more danger if you knew them.”
“That’s not your call to make.” Ryan’s jaw set stubbornly. “Someone threatened me. I deserve to know what I’m dealing with.”
“You’re dealing with a hyena pack that has no morals and no limits. That’s all you need to know.” Grayson kept his voice firm. His mate was brave and angry and probably right, but some truths were too dangerous. “The details of their operation, their territory, their hierarchy, none of that will keep you safe. It'll just make you a bigger target.”
Ryan stared at him for a long moment. Grayson could see him processing, weighing the argument, deciding whether to push. The silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant sounds of the others moving around downstairs.
“Fine,” Ryan said finally. His shoulders dropped slightly, some of the fight leaving him. “I don't need to know everything. But I need you to promise me something.”
“What?”
“The dogs.” Ryan’s voice softened. “Promise me they’re safe. That the hyenas won't get them back. That all of this is actually going to mean something.”
Grayson felt something tighten in his ribcage. His mate had just learned that monsters were real, that the man he’d been sleeping with could turn into a predator, that an entire hidden world existed alongside his normal life. And his first concern wasn't for himself, wasn't about his own safety or sanity. It was about three traumatized dogs in a veterinary clinic.
“I promise,” Grayson said. The words came out rough. “The dogs are safe. They’ll never go back to that life. I’ll make sure of it.”
Ryan nodded slowly. Some of the tension bled out of his frame. He looked exhausted suddenly, the adrenaline crash hitting him all at once. His hand came up to rub at his eyes, the movement making him seem younger. More vulnerable.
“I should probably freak out more,” Ryan said. His laugh was soft and sad. “About the shifter thing. About everything. But I’m just so tired and my brain feels like soup and honestly the only thing I can focus on is that those dogs are going to be okay.”
Grayson reached out and pulled Ryan against him. His mate came easily, his body fitting against Grayson’s like it belonged there. Ryan’s face pressed into his shoulder, his breath warm through the fabric of Grayson’s shirt. They stood like that for several moments, not speaking, just existing in the same space.
“You’re really warm,” Ryan mumbled against his shoulder. “That makes more sense now. The running-hot thing. Lion body temperature or whatever.”
“Something like that.” Grayson’s hand moved up to cup the back of Ryan’s head, his fingers threading through his mate’s hair. The strands were soft, tangled from sleep and stress.
