“Not a chance,” Logan rumbled against Finn’s ear, his voice a low growl that made their mate shiver despite his protests. “We’ve already waited four years. We’re not waiting another minute.”
“Insatiable wolves,” Finn grumbled, but Cade didn’t miss the way his scent sweetened with arousal or how his body unconsciously arched into Logan’s touch.
Keir stirred fully then, pressing a kiss to Finn’s shoulder as he joined the conversation. “Morning, little fox. Sleep well?”
“I was unconscious, not asleep,” Finn corrected, though his glare lacked any real heat. “Someone—or rather, three someones—made sure of that.”
“Complaints?” Cade asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Observations,” Finn shot back, but the flush creeping up his neck belied his casual tone. “And maybe a request for coffee before round… what are we on now? Twelve?”
Cade laughed, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. “Later. First, I think you need a bath.”
Before Finn could protest, Cade rose from the bed in one fluid motion, gloriously naked and unashamed, and scooped their mate into his arms. Finn squawked in indignation, his hands automatically clutching at Cade’s shoulders for balance.
“I can walk, you know,” he protested as Cade carried him toward the en suite bathroom. “I have two functioning legs and everything.”
“I’m aware,” Cade replied, his tone dry as he pushed open the bathroom door with his shoulder. “I became intimately reacquainted with them last night.”
The en suite bathroom was more luxury spa than functional space—Italian marble floors, a glass-enclosed shower large enough for four, and the centerpiece: a sunken tub that resembled a small pool more than a bath, with jets and underwater lighting.
Cade set Finn on his feet and moved to turn on the taps, adjusting the temperature. Behind them, he could hear his brothers moving around the bedroom, their voices a low murmur as they discussed breakfast plans through their pack bond.
“Where are my clothes?” Finn asked, crossing his arms over his chest in a belated attempt at modesty that Cade found both amusing and endearing. “You know, those things people wear in civilized society?”
“We’ll get you new ones,” Cade replied, not looking up from the filling tub. “Most of yours were worn thin anyway.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you’re a broke graduate with student loans,” Finn retorted, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone. “We can’t all be wealthy alpha werewolves with unlimited black cards.”
Cade straightened, turning to face his mate fully. Even attempting to look defiant while naked, Finn was breathtaking—all lean lines and subtle curves, his skin marked with evidence of their passion from the night before. The pre-marking scar on his hip seemed to shimmer in the morning light, more defined now that the bond between them had strengthened.
“Come here,” Cade commanded softly, settling on the edge of the tub.
Finn hesitated, wariness flickering across his expressive face before he stepped forward, allowing Cade to guide him to stand between his spread thighs. The position highlighted their size difference, Cade’s powerful frame dwarfing Finn’s more delicate build even when seated.
“Let me look at you,” Cade murmured, his hands settling on Finn’s hips, thumbs tracing the subtle definition of muscle there.
A blush spread across Finn’s cheeks, down his neck, to his chest. “Didn’t you get a good enough look last night? Or, you know, through your creepy surveillance for the past four years?”
“Four years of distance,” Cade corrected, his eyes never leaving Finn’s face. “Four years of photographs and reports. Four years of watching you grow into the man standing before me now.” His hands slid up Finn’s sides, mapping the changes time had wrought. “I want to look at you now, in the light, when I can touch you. When I can remind myself that you’re really here.”
The sass drained from Finn’s expression, replaced by something vulnerable and uncertain. “I’m here,” he whispered, the words seeming to surprise even him.
Cade’s hands continued their exploration, tracing the subtle definition of muscle that hadn’t been there before. “You’ve been working out.”
Finn shrugged, the movement sending ripples of lean muscle across his shoulders. “The gym was cheaper than therapy. And I guess you’d know all about that, what with your surveillance and all.”
Cade chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. “We kept tabs on you, yes. But some things can only be appreciated up close.” His fingers traced a new scar on Finn’s ribs, barely visible but unmistakable to enhanced werewolf vision. “Like this. How did you get it?”
“Bike accident,” Finn admitted, shivering slightly under Cade’s touch. “Last year. Hit a patch of ice and went down hard.”
A growl rumbled through Cade’s chest before he could stop it, his wolf responding to the thought of their mate injured and alone. “We should have been there.”
“I survived,” Finn pointed out, his tone softening slightly. “I’m tougher than I look.”
“Yes,” Cade agreed, leaning forward to press his lips to the scar, marking it as known, as part of the Finn they now reclaimed. “You always have been.”
The bath had filled while they talked, steam rising from the surface in lazy curls. Cade stood, guiding Finn into the water before following him in. Despite Finn’s token protests, he pulled their mate into his lap as he settled against the side of the tub, arranging him so Finn’s back pressed against his chest.