Page 102 of Aryn

Brihn’s eyes widen. “You were in the human lands?”

“For nearly the last century. I was on the other side when the veil closed between our worlds, and I have spent every day since trying to find a way back.” My tail flicks again, coiling gently around Cato’s arm as the light between our marks brightens. “There is much I must tell you, son.”

He glances between us, studying the marks for a long moment before he nods. “Let me call for more food, then. This sounds like it will require more than broth.”

Cato

Brihn and I both try to talk Aryn into staying in bed while the rest of us come to him, but for as logical as he usually is, there’s no getting past his stubbornness when he digs in his heels. He claims the room is too small, then too dark, and finally outright refuses to hold any kind of official business while people see him laid up and bedridden.

We compromise on meeting in one of their common rooms, and Brihn leaves to prepare. Once we’re alone, Aryn drops some of the tough-guy front. He showers, and when he walks out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of tight black briefs, I have to remind myself how to breathe.

Where I’m bulky, Aryn is all lean, hard lines. The days running through the woods with no food have carved every muscle into sharp relief. His ass looks criminal in those briefs, and when he turns to face me, the prominent bulge at the front nearly short-circuits my brain.

“See something you like?” he teases.

My eyes snap up to his, guilty as hell for being caught staring, but he just looks amused as he continues dressing. He steps into his pants without issue, but winces when he tries to pull the sweater over his head. I’m across the room in two strides, snatching it from his hands while he scowls at me.

“Here. Let me help.”

“I’m not an invalid,” he mutters, but he lets me ease the fabric over his head and down his torso.

His hair is damp from the shower. I pull it free from the collar and run my fingers through it, working out the knots. “You want this up?”

Aryn twists his head to look at me over his shoulder. “How do you like it?”

I swallow hard, remembering how it had fallen around us when he was hovering over me. “Down,” I manage. “I like it down.”

He nods and faces forward again while I keep running my fingers through the strands. “We need to talk later,” he says quietly as he shakes his hair out and turns to face me.

“That sounds ominous.”

He doesn’t smile. He just gives a small toss of his head and steps closer. “You said a lot of things in a very short amount of time, and it was all in the heat of the moment.”

My heart thuds heavily. “I did.”

“I know you care about me, Cato. There’s no doubt in my mind about that. But you thought I was going to die, and you said things—”

“That I meant,” I cut in. “It wasn’t some ploy to get you to stay.”

He studies me for a long moment. “You’ve had time to think now.”

“I have.”

“You still want this?”

My tongue darts out to wet my lips as I hook his waist and pull him in. “I really…” I brush my nose against his, then press a kiss to his jaw, then another just below his ear. “…really want this.”

His tail curls around my arm, and I swear he actually purrs when my lips brush his ear. He pulls back just enough to give me that smug little smile while he watches my mouth, but when I tug him closer, he flinches.

I loosen my grip with an apologetic grimace. “Shit. I keep forgetting you’re sore. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

His smirk doesn’t fade. His hands slide to the small of my back, fingers teasing the edge of my waistband. “Don’t worry, kitten. You don’t have to be gentle with me. I’d prefer it if you weren’t.”

“Fucking hells, Aryn,” I groan as he steps back with a wicked grin. “We have places to be and you’re going to give me a problem.”

His eyes flick down to my crotch and back up again. “Looks like a big problem.”

“You’re a tease,” I accuse, jabbing a finger at him.