Crawford watched him go. “Well I’ll be damned.”
Melvin leaned against the cage beside Mac, shoulder brushing his.
The contact was small. Easy. For a moment the wolf inside Mac stirred. Not restless. Content.
Reynolds tilted his head slightly, like he sensed it too. Sometimes peace showed up like this. People standing in a motor pool with nothing left to prove.
Crawford checked his watch. “DFAC?”
Reynolds perked up. “Please.”
Melvin laughed under his breath.
Mac pushed off the cage. “Let’s go.”
For the first time since stepping off the plane, the future didn’t feel like a test.
They headed toward the DFAC together.
Two days later the Army finally ran out of paperwork. Mac signed the last form and dropped the pen on the desk. He looked across the office at Melvin.
“Leave starts now.”
An hour later they were off post, the base disappearing behind them in the rearview mirror.
Neither of them said much during the drive.
The hotel door closed behind them, sealing the world out.
Mac stood still for a second too long. Not out of doubt. Habit. The part of him trained to compartmentalize. But now there was no duty. Just this room. This man. This moment.
Melvin studied him, searching his face for ghosts that didn’t follow.
Then he moved, deliberate and certain.
They staggered back toward the bed, hands roaming, pulling at buttons and zippers, mouths parting only long enough to drag in shaky breaths. Clothes dropped to the floor in a trail: boots, shirts, belts, until there was nothing left but skin and heat and the thundering rhythm of two hearts.
Mac kissed him again, slower this time. His hands traced down Melvin’s sides. He nudged him gently back onto the bed and climbed over him, straddling his hips. Melvin watched him, open and waiting.
Mac reached for the lube they’d grabbed instinctively.
He worked Melvin open slowly. The room filled with the quiet sounds of breath and movement, Melvin’s body warm beneath him. Every shift and sigh was a language Mac understood without words.
Melvin leaned in, his mouth brushing Mac’s ear. “I want to knot you tonight,” he whispered. “For the first time.”
A beat of silence.
“It will deepen our bond.”
Mac stilled. His breath caught as the words settled through him. Not a question. A promise.
Melvin let out a soft whimper. “I thought you’d never ask.”
For a moment Mac caught a flicker of green in Melvin’s eyes, the panther just beneath the surface. His own wolf answered with a low stir in his blood. Instead of speaking, Mac bent and kissed him, deep and slow. A seal. A yes.
When he pulled back he reached for the bottle again, warming slick between his palms before returning his hand between Melvin’s thighs. His touch was deliberate now, patient. A careful stretch. A quiet preparation.
Melvin’s shoulders loosened as Mac worked him open.
