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I knew neither of us would be sleeping much, but we were content to lie there in silence until our hearts synced up again and our bodies relaxed. The lights were off, but the glow from the overhead cave lights cast an orange shadow across the room, and I watched it play along the walls as Kor’s fingers drew lines along my skin.
“Do you have tattoos?” he asked after a little while.
I startled, then remembered he’d never actually seen me. “No,” I said. I dislodged his arms just long enough to roll toward him, then I settled back into his grip. Lifting two fingers, I traced them down his brow, which was cut directly in the center with a scar. “I thought about getting one once. My father was adamant we never mark our bodies.”
“What would you have gotten?” he asked.
I lifted his arm, then traced the Greek letters into his skin. ?ν ?ρχ? ?ν ? λ?γος. I repeated it in Greek first. “It’s from the Christian Bible. From the Gospel of John. ‘In the beginning there was the word.’”
His hand lifted to my face, and his finger absently traced the shape of my lips. “Are you religious?”
“No,” I said with a laugh. “Nothing like that.”
Religion had started fading long before the revelation of the Wolves, and knowing they existed only hastened embracing logic and science. Some people clung to old Pagan culture—and I knew that it was big amongst the Wolves, but all religion was important for me. I couldn’t separate history from any of it, and history was my life.
“So tell me,” he asked quietly, almost begging, like he wanted to crawl under my skin and know me.
“I liked the quote without the context,” I told him. “In the beginning there was the word. Everything starts with words, whether they’re spoken aloud, signed, written, sung, thought. We’re all defined by them, shaped by them. We begin and end with them.”
“My little philosopher,” he murmured.
I kissed him, a little hard and a lot possessive, my hands curling into his front. He hauled me in close, mindful of my leg, but I could feel him trembling with need to take me. “Kor,” I breathed out.
He cupped my face and rubbed his nose along mine. “I’m not ready to lose you.”
“You haven’t,” I told him. I wanted to give him more hope—to tell him that I didn’t feel like these few nights were going to be my last. I didn’t think the moon was going to rip me apart. I had listened to him for hours talk about what it was like to have a wolf inside of him, and I didn’t feel any of that.
But it wasn’t a promise I wanted to break with my death, so instead I rolled onto my back and let him gently arrange me so he could get my sweats pulled down over my bandaged thigh. His parted lips traced my dick before sucking the head into his mouth. My hips arched, but only for a moment before he pinned them and pulled off with a wet pop.
“Stay still. I don’t want you hurting yourself,” he said with a small growl under the sound of his voice.
I loved it—the way he spoke with different parts of his voice, like his dual nature was combining into one. I nodded, then touched his face and rubbed the corner of his lips with my thumb. “I promise.”
He grinned, a little feral, then lapped at me with a rough tongue. He passed my dick and sucked my balls into his mouth, toying gently with them before bending my uninjured leg and going right for my hole. He loved this, I noticed. He got pleasure in ways I wasn’t sure I’d understand from dipping his tongue deep inside me and tasting me there. I loved the way it made him growl, and tremble, and whine.
I loved the way it made him needy as he kissed back up the inside of my thigh, then took my cock in his hand and sucked me to the root. In spite of the lingering pain, my head pushed back into the pillows, and my eyes slammed shut. I was pulsing and trembling with the desire to spread my legs and let him fuck me deep and slow and heavy—but I knew this was the most he was willing to give, and I would take it.
I didn’t try to hold back. When his hand drifted between my cheeks and two fingers pushed into my slick heat, I was gone. I shouted, then I came in hot ropes against his tongue, and I shuddered as he swallowed down every drop.
He pulled away gently, laying kisses across my exposed skin, his fingers following in the wake of his mouth until he was back to my own lips, waiting to taste myself on his tongue. He kissed me without finesse, and I felt the bond speak to me.
He was scared, and he was relieved, and he was desperate to know I would always be okay.
I couldn’t tell him for sure that I would be. After all, I would die someday. I just had to believe it wasn’t going to be when the moon sat full in the sky.
* * *
I hadn’t anticipated sleeping well into the morning, and I had no idea what time it was when I got up, but it felt like I had been sleeping for a week. My leg ached, but not as badly as I would have expected, and I wondered if the accelerated healing was part of it.
Danyal had given me a pair of crutches, which I grabbed as I stood, but when I put weight on my leg, there was barely a twinge. It was a strange bonus to the shit my father had done, and I was still furious at him, but I realized I wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Would I have fallen for Kor without having been changed like this?
It was hard to say either way. He was definitely the sort of man that would have caught my eye, but with the bond—with the way this new nature inside me had been tapped into—it was so much more primitive. And once upon a time, I might have been horrified by that idea, but now it made me feel almost settled into my skin.
I took one crutch with me in case my leg started hurting, and I moved to the bathroom to clean up before trying to find Kor. I could tell he was in the apartment, and the damn thing was nearly the size of a closet, so it didn’t take me long. He was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table—one of his favorite places—and he had a bunch of white papers spread out in front of him.
His hands were trailing along in strange circles, and I realized after a second it was tactile.
“What is that?” I asked, shuffling closer.
