Aidan thought. “When this is done—when we’re out of the dark—I want you to take you to the sea where I grew up. Western coast. Wind that’ll knock the hurt straight out of you for an hour at a time. I think you’d like the way the horizon doesn’t end.”
Declan’s voice dropped. “I want you to taste my stew, made with real herbs. Made over a real fire. In a safe place.”
I stared at the flames because looking at them felt like stepping off a ledge. “Those are… not terrible plans.”
“We’re full of good ideas,” Declan crooned.
“And some terrible ones,” Aidan added.
“You don’t say,” I deadpanned.
The quiet between us stretched, comfortable now. My hand stayed in Aidan’s. Declan’s knee bumped mine once more, a silent check-in I didn’t realize I appreciated. I didn’t promise them anything. I didn’t have to. And when I finally let my head tip, just a fraction, against Aidan’s shoulder, and let Declan’s fingers lace briefly with mine, we all pretended it was nothing.
I could have kept pretending. I could have let the moment pass, filed it away with all the other things I didn’t let myself want.
Instead, I listened to the warmth sliding through my chest, to the way my pulse steadied with them close.
“Aidan,” I said, because saying his name made it real.
His thumb stilled on my wrist. “Yeah?”
“Don’t move.”
He didn’t. He went perfectly still, eyes full of understanding, mouth soft with patience. I leaned in, slow enough to stop if my nerves panicked, and pressed my mouth to his. He tasted like smoke and salt and the last bite of ration biscuit, and when I pulled away, he didn’t chase me. He exhaled, eyes closing for the briefest second, and smiled like something long knotted had finally loosened.
“Okay,” he murmured, voice rough. “That’s… good.”
My heart kicked. I turned to Declan before I could think myself out of it. He didn’t crowd me. He just sat there, watching me like I was the only thing in the room that mattered.
“Come here,” I said, and it came out softer than I meant it to.
He did, only enough to meet me halfway, and I kissed him, too. This one was more heated though, and a grin caught againstmy mouth because he couldn’t help himself. His hand came up to the line of my jaw and stopped there, asking without words. I answered by pressing closer, then broke the kiss before the ground shifted too far under my feet.
“Don’t read into it,” I said, breath unsteady.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Declan said, eyes bright enough to make a liar of him.
Aidan laughed under his breath, low and delighted. “I would never.”
From across the room, Jamie made an obnoxious, smothered catcall.
“Maybe you could have met the nice me if you hadn’t been such an animal,” I retorted. His sharp intake of breath was very satisfying.
Edward didn’t even turn his head. Logan lifted the map a fraction higher like a curtain and found the ceiling intensely compelling.
Aidan’s shoulder brushed up against mine. “What do you need right now?” he asked, like it was a tactical question with a clear answer.
“Quiet,” I said. “And… keep doing exactly what you’re doing.”
“Copy that,” Declan said, smug and gentle at once.
We let the quiet settle. My fingers found Aidan’s again, and this time I didn’t pretend it was an accident. Declan let his knee rest against mine like he’d always meant it to be there. The fire snapped beside us. Jamie muttered something about the bedding. Edward shifted his weight at the door.
The world was still a mess, the Elder Lycan still out there, traps stacked in our path like dominoes waiting for a push, but for a handful of heartbeats, I let myself stop running.
Aidan spoke first, voice pitched for me alone. “If this gets too much?—”
“I’ll say,” I cut in.