The view is even better than last night. Glinting stars and lush forest bring Cody’s form into primal balance. Every muscle moves with ease. Even at a distance, beneath unbroken skin, Cody’s blood smells richer than the bottled stuff in Simon’s goblet.
This is the right decision. Locking a werewolf up on the full moon is like locking a ravenous fledgling in their coffin. Safer for the night, perhaps. But far more dangerous in the long term.
Cody piles his clothes on the porch step, then meets Simon’s eyes. He takes one step forward, like he wants to duck down fora kiss. Which Simon would welcome, both for the pleasure of kissing and the amusement of having an audience.
But discretion wins out—or the brightening moon. Cody turns from the porch, heedless of the gravel beneath his bare feet, and transforms.
The changes are quick enough to blur in mortal eyes. Simon winces at the convulsion of flesh and bone. Better than Tania turning into a swarm of bats, at least. The next moment, Cody stands on all fours, shoulders heaving with the effort, tail swaying slowly.
Bright canine eyes gleam in the porch light, like lanterns against his fur. Cody shakes himself, then throws back his head.
The howl trembles through the night. Pure and resonant enough to send chills down Simon’s already cold spine. Tobias swears under his breath.
Cody looks at them one more time. Then he trots away, nose lowered to the lawn.
“I’d prefer you hung out inside,” Tobias says. “For security reasons.”
Right. Besides this whole werewolf rehabilitation thing, someone’s still trying to kill Simon. Arguing wouldn’t be nice, especially after Simon so sharply dismissed Tobias last night.
Do the kids still call it sexiling?
Simon rises to his feet. One smooth motion that doesn’t spill a drop of blood. “Cody showed me how the cameras work. I’ll spy from inside.”
“One more thing.” Tobias grimaces, glancing out to Cody, who’s currently inspecting the garage with his tail held high. A fascinating hesitation wars across Tobias’s face. “If my employee ever behaves in a manner that concerns you, please inform meimmediately.”
Ah. Poor man. Looks like someone had an awkward conversation recently.
“I appreciate your professionalism,” Simon says, raising his goblet of blood in toast. “Goodbye, if I don’t see you before you leave.”
Tobias bravely doesn’t flinch.
In the kitchen, Simon forces himself to finish drinking before washing the glass. Disrespectful to waste blood freely given, even if it isn’t fresh from the vein. He considers retreating downstairs or pretending to paint. Ordinary hobbies for what feels—beyond all reason—like an ordinary night.
He fucked a werewolf.
That werewolf wants to take him on a date sometime.
And Simon’s world hasn’t crumbled into pieces. Sun and moon and earth keep dancing around each other. If anything, the stars shine a little brighter.
A date would be nice.
Smiling to himself, because nobody can see him acting like a smitten teenager, Simon makes his way to Cody’s room. He can spy on the camera network from there.
***
Tonight goes differently. Quiet, comfortable. No better or worse than raw passion—just different. Simon is in the garden mural library when Cody finds him. Dawn lurks less than an hour beneath the horizon, and Cody’s still in wolf shape.
He rests his head in Simon’s lap again. Simon strokes his ruff for as many minutes as he dares, waiting for Cody to change back. But the moon is stronger this time. Cody won’t change shape until Simon is already asleep.
Tomorrow night will be good. Next time Simon wakes, Tobias will be gone, and Cody will be human-shaped. They can readjust to their habits or create new ones. Maybe solve an assassination attempt. Maybe dance again.
“Good morning,” Simon murmurs, with one last ruffle of Cody’s neck. “Sweet dreams.”
Cody sighs, tail thumping, then lets Simon go.
Simon flees as quickly as he can to avoid the temptation of lingering. Moments later, alone in his coffin, his fingertips are still warm.
***
