Page 37 of Map of Pain
Ours to protect.Ours to heal.Ours,his beast murmured with deep satisfaction.
The possessiveness should have alarmed him. Instead, Luka found himself sinking into the feeling, letting it wrap around him like warm honey. Whatever this was, whatever it might become, he would follow the certainty that whispered:this matters.
Nick stirred against Luka’s chest, eyelids fluttering as consciousness returned. His fingers twitched, curling into the fabric of Luka’s shirt as though anchoring himself. A small frown creased his forehead as the peaceful expression of sleep gave way to familiar tension.
Luka watched the transformation with fascination—this brief moment between states when Nick’s defenses hadn’t yet engaged. His breathing changed, deepening as his body tensed with awareness.
Nick’s eyes openedsuddenly, blinking in confusion at the fabric against his face.
Luka prepared for inevitable retreat, keeping his arms loose and unthreatening. The rejection would sting, but he understood its necessity. Nick needed control over his own boundaries more than Luka needed acknowledgment of what passed between them.
Instead, Nick remained frozen, neither pulling away nor settling back. His heart hammered against Luka’s chest, racing with indecision. The moment stretched between them, taut with unspoken possibility.
Then Luka caught it—the subtle shift in Nick’s scent. The floral undertone wavered, threatened by something sharper. Not the acrid-sweet of pure terror, but the earthy musk of tang of anxiety. Nick’s authentic self was still there, but uncertainty crept in around the edges.
Why isn’t he moving?Luka wondered.
“Am I allowed to get up?”Nick whispered, his voicebarelyaudible.
Allowed.As if Nick needed permission to move his own body, as if freedom required approval from whoever held him. The scent of anxiety spiked, overlaying the jasmine with familiar fear-markers.
His beast roared within, furious.Find them.Hunt them.Make them suffer for teaching him to ask permission to exist.
Luka kept his facecarefullyneutral despite rage boiling beneath his skin. He nodded once, opening his arms in a clear gesture of release. His beast mournedinstantlyat the loss of Nick’s warmth, but Nick’s right to choose mattered more.
He reached for the notepad abandoned on the couch, fingers finding the pen. The words came without thought: ‘Don’t need to ask permission. Just do.’
Nick read the note as he extracted himself from Luka’s embrace. Some tensionvisiblydrained from his shoulders, but the flicker of disbelief in his eyes told Luka he didn’t accept the words yet.
But the floral scent strengthened again, pushing back against the anxiety. His authentic self fighting to surface.
“What time is it?”Nick asked, his voice steadier now that physical distance separated them.
Luka checked the phone Ophelia had given him, turning the screen toward Nick: 8:00 PM.
Nick’s scent shifted—surprise mixed with something warmer.“We slept on the floor for ten hours?”
Luka nodded, watching as Nick stood and began adjusting his clothing. The hunter tugged his long sleeves down over his stump, straightened his collar, smoothed fabric over places where Luka knew words were carved into his skin. Each movement was methodical, practiced—armor being reassembled piece by piece.
The jasmine scent fadedslightlyas Nick rebuilt his defenses, but it didn’t disappear. Progress.
Luka fought the urge to ask about the scars, about which monster had left such extensive markings. His beast growledhungrilyat the thought of hunting down whoever hurt Nick, but revengerarelyhealed wounds this deep.
Taste his lips again,his beast whisperedunexpectedly.Sweet.Warm.He liked it too.
The memory sent heat through Luka’s chest—Nick leaning forward with deliberate choice, claiming something for himself. But then the quiet embarrassment afterward, the soft request:“Can we pretend that didn’t happen?”
Luka understood. Nick needed control over this more than Luka needed acknowledgment. But understanding didn’t make the ache in his chest any less sharp.
He wanted it then,his beast insisted.Still wants it.Can smell the interest beneath the fear.
Then we wait,Luka decided.Until he’s ready to claim it again.
His beast purred approval at this logic.Patient hunter.
He reached for the notepad, pen hovering over paper as he considered what to write. The words came from intuition rather than strategy: ‘Hungry? I can make something to eat.’
“I’d kill for some coffee,”Nick said, his eyes scanning the room with automatic caution before settling back on Luka.
