“And I killed Henderson. It’s one of the Society’s greatest rules—don’t harm other operatives.”He stared into his coffee.“It’slikely they want me dead now. I’m just not sure how they found me.”
Luka studied Nick’s face, reading the tension there. The weight of having nowhere left to go, no allegiances except this fragile thing building between them.
Luka wanted to see something other than wariness and pain on Nick’s face. His beast nudgedgently, reminding him of sweeter observations. He pulled the notepad back, following impulse rather than logic: ‘Do you always put a mountain of sugar in your coffee?’
The question caught Nick off guard and he laughed, his eyes becoming brighter as the perpetual guardedness lifted for just a moment.
There,his beast purred with satisfaction.That’s him.That’s ours.
“Yeah,”Nick admitted, looking down at his sugar-saturated coffee with a hint of embarrassment.“Always have. It drives people crazy.”
Luka found himself smiling at the reaction. He wanted to coax more of that lightness forward, to see Nick’s authentic self emerge without fear.
“I used to get those frappuccino things from Starbucks all the time,”Nick continued, his voice softening with memory.“My mom would tell me I was going to get diabetes if I kept it up.”
His fingers tightenedmomentarilyaround the mug before relaxing again. The memory didn’t trigger distress—just gentle melancholy mixed with something that might have been fondness.
Good memory,his beast observed.Not everything stolen from him.
Nick looked upsuddenly, curiosity replacing usual caution.“Do you like coffee?”He paused, correcting himself.“I mean, did you like coffee? Before you were... turned?”
The question was innocent, normal—the kind of thing one person might ask another without life-or-death stakes between them. Luka felt heat blooming in his core at this attempt at connection, this glimpse of Nick engaging with the world as himself rather than survivor or weapon.
He wrote:‘Prefer tea, lots of sugar too.’
Nick’s eyebrows shot up as he read.“All vampires have refined palates, right? Lots of Earl Grey and Darjeeling.”
Luka snorted, shaking his head. He scribbledquickly:‘Chamomile tea, five sugars.’
“Chamomile tea? Five sugars? You’re messing with me.”Nick sounded amused, the guarded look in his eyes fading.
Luka shrugged, tapping the pen against the notepad. He wrote:‘Sweet tooth runs in the family. Big brother loves slushies, blue raspberry #1, wild cherry close #2.’He paused, adding:‘Don’t tell him I told you.’
Nick laughed again. It was pure and untainted in the air around them, and it smelled like roses.
That’s him,his beast purred with deep satisfaction.That’s who he really is.
Luka wanted to hear that sound again, wanted to see that unguarded expression more often. He wanted to protect this emerging lightness, to create spaces where Nick couldsimplyexist as himself.
The want was overwhelming. It should have scared him.
He wrote: ‘More coffee?’
Nick shook his head, still smilingfaintly.“I think I’ve reached my limit for the day.”He hesitated, then added,“Thanks.”
The single word, spoken with genuine gratitude, warmed Luka more than he cared to admit. His beast purredcontentedly, satisfied by their mate’s—
The thought stopped him cold.Mate.When had he started thinking of Nick that way?
Since always,his beast repliedsmugly.Since the first night we held him.
Luka absorbed the thought, stewing in it. It felt right. Nick Walsh—broken hunter, trauma survivor, human with a jasmine-scented authentic self—had somehow become essential to his existence.
The three-day deadline pressed at his awareness. Soon they’d have to leave, deliver Nick to strangers who might help him heal but would take him away.
Not ready to let him go,his beast whispered.May never be ready.
Then we make the most of the time we have,Luka decided.