Viper leaned against the post beside him, arms crossed and eyes scanning the perimeter out of habit. “Because if I stop to feel it all, I won’t be able to move. Training kicks in, telling me to prioritize, stabilize, and protect the asset at all costs.”
Ward turned to him slowly. “Who’s the asset? The realms or worlds?”
“You are. Like it or not, there is something you offer this world. From what I have seen, you’re the only one here who knows what half these stones mean. That makes you valuable.”
Ward studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “And that’s the only reason?”
Shit.
He wasn’t sure he was ready to tell him how his stomach clenched when he looked at him that way. Or how he’d woken up this morning after a sleep not disturbed by nightmares for the first time in longer than he could remember. He certainly didn’t know if he was ready to tell him how his balls ached and his dick wore the impression of his zipper just because of Ward’s smile. He clenched his jaw and looked away. “I don’t do the soul-sharing shit.”
“Didn’t ask for your soul. Just honesty.”
The mark on his arm pulsed again, and he blew out a long, slow breath. He focused on a red squirrel as it ran down the branch of an ash tree to balance on a twig that bent under its light weight to reach for something on the ground. “You matter. That’s thetruth. To this place. To the Fianna. And…” His throat bobbed. “…To me.”
Ward stepped close enough that Viper felt the heat of him. “Even if this is fate or determined by a mating mark that directs it?”
“I don’t think there is a mating mark on this world or any world that can ignite a flame when there is no spark to begin with.” His voice was hoarse around the words. But he figured it was already in for a penny, he might as well throw a pound into the mix too. “Sleeping beside you last night…” He wasn’t even sure he was explaining it right. “…I just know. You settle the nightmares when my mind is besieged by the demons of the wars I have served in.”
Aaaaand now you’re a damn poet.
They stood in silence, the air between them charged and fragile. Ward’s gaze dipped to Viper’s arm, where the ink pulsed brighter than it had all day. “I don’t know what to do with this,” he whispered. “Any of these things that’s building between us.”
Viper’s voice was low and rough. “Then don’t do anything yet.” Ward looked up, and their eyes met. “But let me stay close,” Viper said. “Let me be your anchor and you be mine, until we’re ready to figure out what happens next between us.”
The air between them had shifted—again—and the only thing keeping Viper from pacing like a caged animal was the fact that Ward was watching him with that expression. Quiet, thoughtful, and intense in a way that peeled back his armor one layer at a time.
“I know exactly jack shit about relationships.” His voice was rough with something he wasn’t used to admitting. “And all I know about this fate, magic, and bond bullshit is what I’ve seenwith Juice and Trace. I was trained to track enemies, take shots, not—” He flexed his fingers, hoping maybe he could release the ache building in his chest. “Not feel like this.”
Ward stepped closer and placed his arm with the mating mark on the railing of the crannóg walkway so the edges of their mate marks were side by side. Both marks flared softly, and the designs climbed past their elbows. They glowed softly between them, drawing them in like a tether, and Viper’s mouth went dry as he watched them. “We don’t have to know how,” Ward said. “Because the marks keep growing, I think we’re already doing what we are supposed to be doing.”
“What if I can’t keep you safe?” Viper whispered before he could stop himself. “What if this thing makes me reckless?”
“You caught a ball coming at my head from behind your back.” Ward stepped close enough to brush against his back. “I’m guessing this bond makes you dangerous rather than reckless.”
Viper looked down at him, and something in his chest thudded hard against his rib cage.
Is that my cold, dead heart?
He snorted to himself. Wasn’t it just his luck to find a man with a quiet courage, a steady strength, and an unshakable presence that drew him like a flame does a moth, and he couldn’t be one percent certain it wasn’t just a fucking dream?
I really hope this isn’t a dream.
I no longer want it to be a dream.
He brushed his fingers along Ward’s jaw. “You’re in my head,” he said softly, “and under my skin.” Ward leaned in, and he met him halfway. The kiss wasn’t gentle or hesitant. It was fire andgravity, soul-deep and instantly addictive, like everything had tilted in the world and the only thing holding him steady was the man in his arms.
Ward’s hands gripped his shirt, fisting it tight as if he needed something solid, something real—and Viper gave it to him. He gave everything, kissing him like the world would stop spinning if he didn’t.
He wasn’t sure he’d survive losing the taste of him now that he knew exactly how Ward felt in his arms—like home. Like fate had done one thing in this whole fucked up situation that was right.
Viper broke the kiss with a gasp, his forehead resting against Ward’s, both of them breathing hard like they’d sprinted a mile in full kit. He still had one hand curled around the back of Ward’s neck, his fingers were buried in the short strands there because letting go wasn’t an option yet.
Ward’s eyes were blown wide, his pupils dark and dilated. His lips were swollen, and his breathing ragged. But he wasn’t pulling away or punching him in the nose.
Thank Christ.
Because Viper didn’t think he had the strength to pretend he could stop this now. The mate bond was a storm in his bloodstream. It crawled under his skin, rampaging with desire toward his heart. He was acutely aware that beneath all of it was the steady, undeniable truth that he would’ve wanted this man even without the magic. If he’d met him on leave, he’d have made excuses to see him again. “You okay?” The words sounded gruff and roughened with everything he was too much of a coward to say out loud.
