He still didn’t have a plan. The demons were still out there, and the money was still owed, and the watcher in the trees was still unidentified.
Not a damn thing was resolved.
But the weight he’d been carrying alone sat differently now. It was still there. Just wasn’t only his anymore.
Malik let out a long breath through his nose.
Then he went to find Indy, who’d slipped from the room while Grayson had been talking to Malik.
His mate was in the bedroom with the dogs, which surprised him for a moment before it didn’t. The lamp on the shelf cast a low amber light across the floor, and Indy was sitting cross-legged on the floor with his back against the wall and one of the terriers in his lap.
The dog was deeply asleep, its small body rising and falling against Indy’s thigh. The other two dogs were still breathing steadily on the blankets, undisturbed.
Indy’s head was tipped back against the wall, his eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. His auburn hair was slightly disheveled, and the shirt had slipped off one shoulder again. His blue-violet eyes caught the light when he heard Malik in the doorway, landing on him.
Malik watched his mate try to appear casual, but fail.
“Hi,” Indy said, voice a little rough.
“Hey.” Malik leaned against the doorframe. He’d gotten lucky as hell when it came to mates, his cheetah purring in agreement. The pull was strong, and the need to claim Indy rode him hard.
But for now, he simply enjoyed watching his mate.
“The terrier woke up.” Indy glanced down at the sleeping dog, his hand moving in a slow stroke along its back. “She seemed unsettled. I sat down for a minute, and she climbed up. Then she fell back asleep, and I didn’t want to move her.”
Malik looked down at his mate sitting there, holding a sleeping dog because he hadn’t wanted to disturb it, and felt something in him pull taut.
“You don’t have to stay on the floor,” he said.
“I know.” Indy tilted his head back against the wall again. “I’m comfortable.” He paused. “Also, my legs fell asleep about two minutes ago, so there’s a practical element to this as well.”
Pushing off the doorframe, Malik crossed the room. He crouched down beside Indy and carefully lifted the terrier from his mate’s lap. The dog stirred but didn’t wake, its paws twitching once before going still. He set her gently on the blankets with her companions and watched all three of them resettle without opening their eyes.
When he straightened and looked at Indy, his mate was watching him with an expression that disappeared almost immediately, replaced by something neutral and faintly amused.
“Nicely done,” Indy said. “Very smooth. Do you do that for all the foxes who end up trapped on your floor or just the ones with numb legs?”
Malik extended a hand.
Indy looked at it for a beat then took it. His fingers were cool, his grip lighter than Malik expected given how much presence Indy managed to occupy. He pulled his mate to his feet, and Indy came up with a small exhale of effort, one hand briefly catching Malik’s forearm for balance before releasing it.
He was close. Close enough that Malik could see the faint shadows under his eyes from a day that had asked too much of him and the way his blue-violet eyes had gone a little darker in the low light, more purple than blue.
“Thank you,” Indy said. “For earlier, by the way. What you said in there.” He was looking at Malik’s chest rather than his face, which was its own kind of tell. “That couldn’t have been easy.”
For a moment, Malik didn’t say anything. The room was quiet except for the soft sounds of the dogs breathing, while the amber lamp threw warm shadows across the walls.
“It wasn’t,” he confessed.
Indy’s gaze came up then, and this time it held. “I know.”
Malik wasn’t ready to talk about it. He was old enough to know better, to have allowed an addiction to grip him by the throat.
“Come on,” he said, his voice rumbling. “You should sleep.”
He led Indy out of the room and down the hallway. His mate followed. The house was quiet now, only the small sounds of a home settling in for the night. The staircase creaked under his weight, the third step from the top protesting the way it always did.
Reaching his bedroom, Malik opened the door.
