“Why?”
The question was quiet. Loaded with meanings neither of them had spoken aloud.
“You know why.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
Leo turned to face her. The movement pulled at his wounds, fresh pain flaring through his side, but he needed to see her.Needed to watch her face as he admitted the truth he’d been circling for weeks.
“Because he threatened Haven Shores.” He forced each word out, pulled from somewhere deep. “Because he destroyed your shop and stole your grandmother’s book. Because every time I close my eyes, I see your face in that diner, laughing at overpriced wine, and I can’t—” His voice cracked. He was too tired, too bloody, too raw to maintain the careful walls he’d spent two decades building. “I can’t stop wanting you. I’ve tried. I’ve fought it every day since I got here. Nothing works.”
Junie’s eyes were bright. Wet at the edges. Her hands had stopped shaking, steadied by what he’d said.
“You came back here.” Her voice was slow, working through it. “To the inn. To me. Instead of a hospital. Instead of the pack house. Instead of anywhere with actual medical facilities.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Leo reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her face. His fingers left a smear of blood on her cheek. She didn’t flinch.
“Because you’re here.” His voice was rough, scraped from somewhere he’d stopped visiting years ago. “Because the beast inside me demanded it. Because you’re the only person I want.”
She kissed him. Soft. Brief. A question.
He answered by pulling her down to him.
TWENTY-FOUR
LEO
The kiss deepened, careful and urgent at once. She tasted like the herbal tea she’d been drinking, like honey and magic and every late-night conversation, every morning coffee, every moment they’d been circling this point without quite arriving.
His hands found her waist, her back, the softness of her skin beneath the thin fabric of her tank top. Her fingers threaded through his hair, careful of his wounds even as the kiss grew more intense. Glimmer made a sound of protest and slithered away, scales flickering in resigned acceptance as she coiled on the bedside table.
Leo pulled Junie closer. The movement sent pain lancing through his ribs, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was holding her. Finally holding her. After weeks of wanting and fighting and pretending he didn’t need this—she was in his arms, real and his.
Mate. Safe. Home.
The words thundered through him with absolute certainty. His recognition was finally acknowledged. Finally accepted.
Junie broke the kiss, breathing hard. Her forehead rested against his, her hands still tangled in his hair.
“We should finish treating your wounds.”
“Probably.”
“You’re still bleeding.”
“I’m aware.”
“Leo.” Her voice was half-laugh, half-exasperation. “I can’t let you bleed to death. That would ruin the moment.”
He let her go. Watched as she returned to her emergency supplies, pulling out a jar of viscous green paste that smelled like forest floor after rain. Her movements were steadier, her hands no longer trembling.
“This is a healing accelerant.” She scooped the paste onto her fingers and began applying it to the bite on his shoulder. The pain faded almost immediately, replaced by a cool tingle that seeped into the damaged tissue. “Shifter metabolism will do most of the work, but this should help. You’ll probably have scars.”
“I don’t mind scars.”
