Page 14 of Dance in the Stones

That heaviness hung between them again as their eyes met. It was as if the air itself was waiting for just one of them to make the slightest move. Redford wanted to reach out so badly, to touch and tell Damon that the stones were singing. But he hadn’t even opened his mouth, and his phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Files are in,” Redford said, checking the message.

“You need to get back to the cottage then. I’ll check on the castle and make sure everything’s secure and then be back to make us dinner.” Damon headed toward the castle. “It’ll be ready about seven.”

“Looking forward to it, thanks.”

/~/~/~/~/

The case broke late that night. His team executed the warrants perfectly, seizing documents and arresting the CEO and three board members. The pharmaceutical company’s human testing program was shut down, the victims would receive proper care, and the evidence was solid enough to guarantee convictions.

Redford should have felt relieved. Instead, he felt hollowed out. Cases did that to him, or at least they had in the last few years.

It was hard to take pride in the fact that the victims had been saved, when they should never have been targeted in the first place. There was no pleasure that could be taken from knowing the perpetrators would likely never see the sun rise again – they were paranormal, and the paranormal court had a more decisive way of dealing with criminals than the human system did.

Reading the testimony from the victims, looking at the medical reports and understanding what they went through, and then having to go through every line of the financial reports showing just how much profit those assholes had gained from hurting others…

It made Redford sick inside, because no matter how loudly his team might be celebrating tonight – and they deserved to - by tomorrow, there would be another case and even more victims. People who had their right to live a normal life stripped away because of another’s greed. Entitled paranormals who thought they could hurt others without consequences.

It was nearly midnight when he finally closed his laptop. The cottage was quiet. Damon had brought him dinner hours ago - some kind of pasta that Redford had barely tasted – before retreating to give him space.

Redford should sleep. He seriously needed to be in his bed and try to shut his brain off for at least a few hours. Instead, he got up from his chair and silently walked down the short hallway toward Damon’s room. Maybe he’s still awake?

But no. The door was open, just a crack, but wide enough that Redford could see inside without touching the door at all.

Damon slept on his side, one arm tucked under the pillow, his other resting over the blankets which had been pushed down to his waist. The room was dark, but Redford’s gargoyle lent him some night vision – enough for Redford to see how peaceful Damon looked. He’s stunning. Despite being so tired he could barely keep his eyes open, Redford felt his cock stir.

Touching the doorframe, Redford wasn’t sure what he was doing – stopping himself from going in or giving himself a push. His logical brain, which still managed to function but only just, knew that all he had to do was walk inside, climb on that bed, and tell Damon that he already knew they were fated.

His gargoyle urged him forward. Mate. Ours. Claim him.

But Redford forced himself to stay where he was, doubts clouding his tired mind. What if Damon didn’t want forever? What if he was happy with his solitary life in the Highlands and Redford showing up claiming they were mates was more of a burden than a blessing? What if the last three days of quiet care had just been Damon being kind, not Damon feeling the same pull Redford felt?

Damon shifted in his sleep, making a soft sound, almost as though he was chuckling in his dreams. Redford stepped back from the door – I need to sleep. I desperately need to sleep.

Making his way back to his room, Redford let his exhaustion overtake him. Falling on the bed, he barely remembered to kick his shoes off before he buried his face in his pillow.

Tomorrow, he promised himself. I’ll tell him everything tomorrow. He’ll either accept me or he won’t…and…I’ll deal with whatever happens then.

If nothing else, Damon deserved more than a completely overwhelmed and exhausted mate who’d barely spoken to him in three days.

I’ll tell him tomorrow.

/~/~/~/~/

Morning came too early. Redford dragged himself out of bed feeling like he’d been hit by a truck, who’d then reversed and hit him again just for shits and giggles. The case was done, but the exhaustion – not helped by the burnout he’d been suffering just a few weeks before - remained. By the stones, I’m a fucking mess.

Coffee. He needed coffee. Maybe then Redford would start to feel halfway human – which admittedly was the most he felt human on any day.

The kitchen smelled like breakfast when he shuffled in. Damon stood at the stove, hair still damp from the shower, cooking what looked like eggs and bacon.

“Morning,” Damon said without turning around. “You look like hell.”

How can you tell? Is it the way I’m walking? “Yeah, I feel like it too.”

“Did you get the case finished?”

“Yep. It was a late night, but it’s all done.” Redford collapsed into the nearest chair.