Ryan pulled back enough to look up at him. His eyes were red-rimmed but clear. “So what now? Do we just pretend this is normal? Go to sleep and deal with the existential crisis in the morning?”
“We make sure you’re safe. Everything else can wait.” Grayson’s thumb brushed along Ryan’s jaw. The skin there was soft, marked with the faint shadow of stubble. His mate was beautiful like this, rumpled and scared but still standing. Still fighting for what mattered.
“How safe? Because I’m standing here processing the fact that shapeshifters exist, and I just watched you turn into a literal lion, and I’m still not sure if I’m dreaming or having some kind of breakdown.”
“You’re not dreaming.” Grayson’s other hand settled on Ryan’s hip, anchoring him. The warmth of Ryan’s body seeped through both sets of their clothes, familiar despite everything that had changed in the last hour. “And you’re handling this better than most humans would.”
“Am I though?” Ryan’s fingers twisted in the front of Grayson’s shirt. “Because internally I’m screaming. Like constant screaming. My brain is just one long sustained note of what the actual hell.” His laugh came out shaky. “But apparently my coping mechanism is to just keep talking and pretend this is fine.”
Grayson studied his face. The fear was still there, lurking in the tightness around Ryan’s eyes, the way his breathing hadn’t quite evened out. But he wasn't running. Wasn't demanding to leave. He was standing here in Grayson’s bedroom, holding on to his shirt like it was the only solid thing in a world that had just tilted sideways.
“You’re not freaking out about the shifting,” Grayson said. It had surprised him how quickly Ryan had moved past the impossible transformation to focus on the dogs, on the danger. Most humans saw a shifter change for the first time and lost their minds completely.
“Oh, I’m freaking out.” Ryan’s grip tightened. “I’m just freaking out quietly. Internal freaking. Very dignified.” He paused, his gaze dropping to Grayson’s mouth again before skittering away. “Also, I’m trying really hard not to think about the fact that I saw you naked. Again. While you were covered in dirt and possibly blood and looking like some kind of feral warrior. That’s a lot to process on top of the whole lion situation.”
Heat curled low in Grayson’s gut. Ryan’s scent had shifted again, the fear mixing with something headier. His mate had noticed. Had looked. Even with his entire worldview crumbling, Ryan’s eyes had tracked down Grayson’s body with an awareness that made the lion rumble with satisfaction.
“You looked,” Grayson said.
Ryan’s face flushed. “I’m gay, and you’re built like a Greek statue. Of course I looked. That’s just biology.” He pulled away slightly, putting a few inches between them. “Don't let it go to your head. I was also processing the fact that you’d just been a lion, so my brain wasn't exactly firing on all cylinders.”
Grayson let him have the space but kept his hands on Ryan’s hips. The contact seemed to ground them both. “The mate bond doesn’t care about timing.”
“The what bond?” Ryan’s eyes went wide. “Wait. Mate. You said mate earlier. I thought you meant like, friend. Roommate. Not mate mate.”
This wasn't how Grayson had wanted to explain it. He’d planned to wait, to let Ryan adjust to the existence of shifters before dropping the rest of it on him. But the words were already out there, and lying now would only make things worse later.
“Shifters have mates,” Grayson said. He kept his voice even, factual. “It’s not something we choose. The bond just happens. Recognition on a level deeper than conscious thought.”
Ryan stared at him. His mouth opened, closed, opened again. “And you’re saying I’m your mate. Your shifter mate. The person you’re biologically programmed to be with or whatever.”
“Yes.”
“Since when?” Ryan’s voice had gone high again. “Since we met? Since you brought the dogs to the clinic? Have you known this whole time?”
“Since I walked into that exam room and saw you.” Grayson’s hands flexed on Ryan’s hips. The memory of that moment was burned into his brain. The way Ryan had looked up from the injured pit bull, concern written across his features. The way the pull had drawn him toward Ryan like something that had always been waiting. “I knew immediately.”
“And you didn’t think to mention this?” Ryan pulled away completely now, putting several feet between them. His hands moved through his hair, tugging at the strands. “You just let me think this was a normal attraction thing? Let me stress about coffee dates and whether you actually liked me? While the whole time you were sitting on this massive piece of information?”
“I was going to tell you.” Grayson stayed where he was, letting Ryan have the distance he needed. “When you were ready. When I could explain it properly.”
“When I was ready…” Ryan laughed, the sound brittle. “When exactly would I have been ready to learn that shapeshifters exist and I’m apparently destined to be with one? Was there a good time for that conversation that I missed?”
Grayson didn’t have an answer. There was never a good time to tell a human that their entire understanding of reality was wrong. That monsters were real and walking among them. That fate had decided their future before they'd even had a chance to choose.
Ryan paced to the window and back, his movements jerky, his shirt still inside out, the tag visible at the back of his collar. He looked rumpled and young and overwhelmed, and Grayson wanted to close the distance between them. Wanted to pull Ryan back into his arms and promise that everything would make sense eventually.
“I need to know more,” Ryan said finally. “About the pack. About their operation. About what they’re planning.”
“No.” The word came out harder than Grayson meant it to. “The less you know, the safer you are.”
“That’s not how this works.” Ryan took a step closer. The anger was still there, simmering under his skin. “I’m already involved. They already sent me threats. Hiding information from me doesn’t make me safer. It just makes me ignorant.”
“It makes you less of a target.” Grayson held his ground. His mate was brave and angry and probably right, but some knowledge was too dangerous. “If the hyenas think you know details about their operation, about their territory, about their business, you become worth interrogating. Worth taking.”
The color drained from Ryan’s face. “Taking.”
“They’re not above kidnapping. Not above torture.” Grayson hated saying it, hated watching Ryan process the reality of what they were dealing with.
