“But I should have known. Brother Matthias always said I lacked spiritual discretion—”
“Brother Matthias can choke on his spiritual discretion.”
Cass’s eyes went wide. Then—impossibly—he giggled.
“You can’t say that about an Elder.”
“I just did. What’s he going to do, harmonically realign me from here?”
The giggle turned into a real laugh, bright and surprised, and Riot felt it on his skin like the sun. Despite the guilt and the wanting and the mess of the last few days, Cass was laughing, pressed against his side, wearing his shirt, and for a brief, beautiful moment, the world felt like it was doing something right for once.
Then Cass’s expression flickered. His hand pressed to his stomach as his breath caught. Riot clocked it immediately, the shift in his scent, the sudden tension in his body, the temperature climbing where they touched, the pressure in the air like a storm front that hadn’t bothered to check the forecast.
“Oh no,” Cass whispered. “Not again.”
Orion tensed, his own scent spiking in response. The feedback loop starting—one Omega in heat triggering sympathetic responses in another, pheromones bouncing between them like a conversation Riot couldn’t interrupt.
“We need to go,” Dante said, already pulling Orion to his feet. “Now.”
“Don’t fucking grab me like that, asshole, I’ve never had this happen before,” Orion started, then cut himself off as another wave of Cass’s scent seemed to hit him. “Yeah, okay...going. We’re going.”
Cass doubled over as he stood, a thin trickle of slick already sliding down his inner thigh, visible below the hem of his shirt, and the sight of it sent heat pooling in Riot’s gut like someone had poured gasoline on an already considerable fire.
Focus. He needs help, not you losing control again.
“I’m sorry,” Cass gasped. “I can’t control—I don’t know why it keeps—”
“It’s not your fault.” Riot pulled him close, trying to ignore the way his head was swimming. He needed to be the person Cass apparently believed he was, even if the evidence for that belief was, at best, circumstantial. “It’s fine. I’ve got you.”
At the door, Dante paused. Whatever joke he’d been about to make died on his lips as he looked at Cass trembling in Riot’s arms, tears of frustration on his cheeks.
“Take care of him,” Dante said quietly.
Then they were gone.
“I didn’t mean to make them leave,” Cass said, his voice small. “My body keeps doing things without asking me—”
“It’s not your fault.” Riot cupped his face, thumbs brushing away tears. Cass’s skin was fever-hot. “None of this is your fault. And they’ll be back tomorrow to embarrass us some more.”
That got a watery laugh.
“Come on,” Riot murmured, guiding him toward the bedroom. His own body was thrumming with want, the need to touch and take and claim pounding through his blood like his pulse had developed a separate agenda. But underneath it—stronger, he hoped, he needed it to be stronger—was the need to take care of him. To do this right. To prove that the choice he’d made before wasn’t a fluke, but something he could keep making, over and over, for as long as it mattered.
He had to believe that was possible.
Chapter twenty-three
Harmony Circle of Two
Cass
EverythingwasquietafterDante and Orion left.
Cass stood where Riot had guided him, trying to breathe through the cramping, trying not to think about the wetness and his shaking legs and if he smelled terrible.
“I should probably...” He gestured vaguely toward the bathroom. “Clean up. I’m kind of...”
Messy. Everywhere. All the time now.
