Ward blinked slowly, his voice catching on something soft and stunned. “I… yeah. I think so. Are you?”
“Fuck no.” Viper couldn’t help himself; he had to tease him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been less okay. Because now I know what you taste like, and I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to walk away from that.”
Ward’s laugh was startled, breathless, and beautiful. “That’s honestly one of the most terrifyingly romantic things I’ve ever heard.”
Viper nuzzled his nose to the hairline at his temple. “I don’t do romance. I barely do feelings. But for you? I’m trying.”
A pulse of blue light shimmered faintly up his arm again, and Ward looked down, tracing one fingertip over Viper’s skin. His touch was feather-light and reverent, as if he were reading the story of their fledgling bond with his fingertips. “It doesn’t feel like magic,” he murmured. “It feels right.”
“It feels like it’s knocking me on my fucking ass.” Viper huffed out a breath and pulled him closer again, needing the contact like he needed oxygen. “I’ve survived warzones, hostage ops, hell, I once rappelled off a burning embassy roof with two civilians on my back and a sniper tracking my every move. But this?” He touched their joined marks. “This scares the shit out of me.”
Ward leaned in and pressed his mouth to his lips. “Then we figure it out together.”
Viper swallowed hard, heart hammering.
Together.
No one had ever said that word to him and made it sound like safety and hope.
But Ward did.
He wasn’t sure what they were going to face tomorrow, but he knew this: whatever came for them, whatever monster rose from the shadows of the myths and legends they were dealing with, he’d take it on without a second thought, so long as Ward was at his side.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ward hadn’t movedall night. When the sun broke across the lake, he found himself wrapped around Viper under the furs. The memory of the kiss yesterday still lingered on his lips. He shifted his legs carefully and adjusted his morning wood, because Viper’s hand was dangerously close to brushing off it. Before anything happened with their dicks, he was going to need another of those mindfuck kisses and maybe a dinner or two.
What startled him most wasn’t that they’d kissed—it was that for the first time in forever, he hadn’t woken up with the tight-clenched panic in his chest. He hadn’t dreamt of the volcano exploding or buried stone prisons. He didn’t think he’d dreamed at all. From how rested he was, he thought he might have just... slept.
I never just sleep.
Now we’re at two nights in a row.
What kind of madness is this, and can I bring it home with me?
Viper was wrapped around him, his breath hot and even on the back of Ward’s neck.
It’s wild how comforting that is.
A soft knock at the crannóg door had startled them both awake. Zero’s voice drifted through with no regard for volume. “If you two lovebirds are done hibernating, there’s a caffeine emergency out here. Kaze is threatening ritual sacrifice.”
Viper groaned and rolled to his feet. “Murder isn’t a crime in mythological dimensions, right?” He didn’t wait for him to answer. “I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned my stash of coffee. I knew it, and I did it anyway. What a fucking idiot.”
By the time Ward pulled on clothes and made it to the common clearing outside the crannógs, the chaos had already begun. Kaze was pacing like an uncaffeinated asshole denied his prey. Juice had his arms crossed and was watching the drama unfold with the calm of someone used to wrangling emotionally unstable brothers in arms. Reaper sat cross-legged with a piece of buttered bread, pretending to meditate, while Zero narrated the whole circus with a running commentary.
“There’s enough drama here for three reality shows,” Ward muttered as he came up beside Viper, who had been digging in his pack with laser focus.
“Coffee or riot,” Viper answered. “Choose one.”
“Please be coffee.” Desperation leaked into Juice’s voice. “Because I’ve only got one knife on me, and I’m not wasting it on Kaze.”
“I’m wounded,” Kaze declared, one hand on his chest. “I thought I was your favorite.”
“You are,” Trace said from the far side. “But only when you’re quiet and not threatening to offer squirrels to appease the caffeine gods.”
Ward bit back a laugh as Viper finally stood, tin in hand, victorious. “Everyone shut up. The bean juice has arrived.”
Cheers. There were actual, real cheers from grown-ass men.
