“Because Brennan wanted to help people and was somebody who trusted the people who did this to him.”
“What happened to him?”
“They broke him. They took what made him useful and turned it into something dangerous. Then threw him away when it didn’t work right.”
Cass thought about that as Riot stroked his hair. Not in the big complicated way that Honey would have—analyzing and connecting and building theories. Just the simple shape of it. Someone who wanted to help people got turned into something that scared people instead. And now he didn’t want to use his own name anymore because using it meant remembering the person he’d been before the scary part.
Oh.
“Do you miss him?” Cass asked. “Being Brennan?”
Riot took in a deep breath and sighed. “Sometimes. He was curious about how people’s minds work. He thought he could make a difference.”
“He sounds kind,” Cass said. “Like someone who would sit with a confused Omega and explain things without making him feel stupid.”
Riot went still.
“I don’t think there’s as much difference between Riot and Brennan as you think,” Cass said against his neck. “I can tell when you take care of me.”
Something happened to Riot’s breathing. A hitch, almost like a cramp of his own. His arms tightened around Cass, not Berserker tight, just holding on tight, and for a moment he didn’t say anything.
Then the heat crashed through in the worst wave yet.
Cass gasped, arching against Riot’s body. His skin was on fire and the deep craving returned so intensely it blurred his vision. Not just aching—demanding. Centered and specific in a way it hadn’t been before he’d learned what Riot’s fingers could do to that spot inside him.
“Sorry—” He pressed harder into Riot’s neck, breathing in desperately and tasting the salt of his sweat on his lips. The scent helped. The scent also made it worse. “You smell really good and I can’t—”
His body was moving without permission again, squirming as he turned all the way around to straddle Riot’s lap and cling to him. His hips kept rolling against Riot’s thigh, chasing that friction and that bright cresting feeling. More slick pulsed out of him, getting on Riot’s pants and on the bed as he whimpered. He knew what it meant now. His body wanted things.
His body wanted thingsbadly.
“I’m sorry,” he said, face burning. “I know I keep—I feel so—”
Riot had gone rigid beneath him, every muscle locked as his breathing shallowed. “Cass…you need to stop moving.”
“I can’t.” He hated how pathetic it sounded. “It aches and you’re warm and your scent is doing something to my brain where I can’t think about anything except getting closer—”
“Princess.” Riot gripped his hips hard. “Listen to me.”
“Okay?”
“The way you’re moving—” The gold started to glow brighter in his eyes. “It’s making it very hard for me to be careful.”
“Oh.” Cass’s face burned hotter. “Because I’m making you feel things too?”
The word came out like a growl: “Yes.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to, I just—” He shifted, trying to find a position that didn’t press against the ache, and felt Riot against his thigh. Hard. Unmistakable. His body surged toward it as the rest of him tried to pull the brakes.
That’s what was pressing against you in the bathroom. That’s what was too big. That’s—
He went still.
The wanting didn’t leave. That was the confusing part. The memory of the bathroom flooded in and the wanting stayed exactly where it was. Both at the same time, pulling in opposite directions, and Cass was stuck in the middle with no idea which one to listen to.
“Hey.” Riot’s voice softened. He must have felt Cass tense. “What happened? Talk to me.”
“I want things.” Cass swallowed hard. “But I keep thinking about... before. On the bathroom floor. The scary part.”
